Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
SOFEE
I’m stunned, standing in place, not moving a muscle as I stare at the only man who has asked me on a date in months. His light brown eyes seem to gobble up the sight of me as I stand here holding the flowers he brought me.
Nobody has ever gotten you flowers before. The voice that resides only in my mind coos.
I look from him down to the deep red lilies. Not the cheap kind of lilies you can get from a grocery store either. These look like he went to a flower shop and had an actual florist arrange them. Even though I appreciate the gesture, I never really understood the point of buying something that will die in a few days. I much prefer my plants to have soil and roots so they can continue to live on long past the point of gifting.
From the moment Joel stepped through those doors, I felt as though he stole all the air in the room. And now that he’s asked me on a date? I feel like I may never breathe again. It’s not like I’ve dated a ton before, but nobody has ever gone out of their way to bring me flowers or made me laugh until tears gathered under my eyes.
I flounder for words, opening and closing my mouth like a fish, unable to actually say anything. All the while, he studies me with a genuine smile on those soft-looking lips and a quiet hunger in his eyes.
Nothing compared to the ravenous hunger you saw in Declan’s .
I suck in a sharp breath as the uninvited thought of Declan comes roaring back to the forefront of my mind. A nervous energy washes over me like a cool shower. But just as quickly, my anger flares to life. Fuck Declan. I growl at my inner voice as if we’re two separate people.
For the first time in my life, I opened myself up to possibility yesterday, and he shit all over it. He took what I offered and basically threw it back in my face. And now I have this wonderfully sweet, handsome, polite man right in front of me offering me something that I would never receive from Declan. And what’s my first thought? To reject him because the man I hate occupies way too much of my mind.
Well, fuck that.
Miles may have been wrong about the thin line between hate and lust, but he was right that I need to put myself out there more. And here stands a man willing to help me with that. I’ll be damned if I let Declan ruin this too.
But even as I try to force myself to say yes to Joel, the thought of violet eyes drilling into my soul has me pausing again. I try like hell to replace those eyes with Joel’s light brown ones, but it doesn’t sit right with me. When I imagine Joel looking at me and doing what Declan did to me not even twenty-four hours ago, it feels wrong.
I look back up at him and start to form polite words of rejection on my lips, but before I can utter a single syllable, the automatic doors open, and I’m left speechless by yet another thing I never saw coming.
As if my thoughts of hard violet eyes called to him, Declan pushes past the glass doors and enters the waiting area. Scratch that. He doesn’t enter the room; he stumbles inside.
A flare of panic courses through my veins before I try to remember that I’m a nurse and trained for these types of situations. Except, they never trained me for the moment when the man I can’t stop thinking about hobbles into my ER with a knife sticking out of his thigh.
He leans against the wall as soon as he makes it past the doors. Sweat covers his forehead, just as surely as his blood pools around his right boot, creating a puddle that's growing by the second. He breathes heavily as his gaze snags mine, a small smirk I don’t understand creases his lips before he speaks.
“Hey, Brat, can I get a little help here?” he asks before attempting to push away from the wall, only to stumble forward.
I toss the flowers onto the desk in front of me before rounding it. “Miles,” I call out to my friend as I move toward Declan. Stepping into his space, I’m immediately overcome with a sense of urgency I’ve never felt before. His usual hypnotic scent is now masked by the thick smell of blood as it continues to seep from around the knife lodged in his thigh.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice trembling. He starts to stand away from the wall but falters. Rushing to grab onto him around his waist, I help him stay upright. I pull him firmly to my front, not an inch of space between us. I don’t know how long ago he was stabbed, but from the look of it, he’s lost no small amount of blood.
He winces as I help him stay upright before turning his chin down toward me. He hovers over me, our breaths intertwining as one. Pained violet eyes meet mine and hold me captive. Eyes that also have dark circles marring the thin skin below them. As if he’s holding me against my will, I can’t look away from him as the corner of his lips twitch upward.
“I fell,” he murmurs finally.
“You fell?” I ask, skepticism dripping from my tone.
He nods his head down at me before his eyes lock onto my lips. I dart my tongue out to wet the suddenly dry flesh before swallowing thickly. Hearing Miles bringing a wheelchair into the waiting room pulls my focus, breaking the hold Declan unwittingly has over me.
Once Miles locks the chair in place, he moves around to Declan’s back and grabs onto his waist. He keeps his eyes on me but allows Miles to guide him to the seat carefully. “Oh sugar, you boogered yourself up something good, didn’t you?” he croons, his sweet southern accent lilting his words.
The skin around Declan’s eyes tightens as he finally sits, ignoring Miles’ question. His gaze only leaves mine as movement beside me catches his attention. The soft shimmer in his eyes turns hard as his jaw feathers and he squints at Joel.
As if I just remembered he was here, I turn to face him as Miles wheels Declan into the main emergency bay. I fumble for my words as Joel stares after Declan. His serious eyes study him in a way that piques my curiosity.
“Paging Dr. Haley to triage.” I recognize one of the other nurses' voices coming over the intercom system.
“Joel, I’m so sorry. I have to go,” I rush to say and start to follow after Miles.
He finally looks away from Declan and back to me before grabbing my wrist. His light-colored eyes shift to an intensity I don’t understand before softening toward me. Smiling down at me, his double dimples deepen on either side of his mouth. Then he steps into my space, towering over me completely.
“My number’s on the card with your flowers,” he murmurs before running his fingers up my arm before pushing a lock of my hair away from my face, eliciting shivers to rise in his wake. He pushes the hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a long moment before dropping his hand and sliding it in his pocket. “Call me,” he says, his gaze flicking to my lips.
It’s not a question, and I can’t help but feel a nervous thrill coursing through me at his demand. He winks down at me with a sly grin before stepping away and backing toward the door. All I can do is catch my breath as I watch him. Once the door opens and he backs out, I’m left standing in the middle of the empty waiting room, confused about everything that just happened.
But that confusion doesn’t last long before I hear a crash coming from the triage room. I twist and quickly look in the direction where Miles took Declan, only to see him trying to stand from the gurney. Miles stands in front of him with his hands up, frantically trying to get him to take a seat.
“Get the fuck off me, where’s Sofee?” Declan shouts, and I jump into motion, completely ignoring the red flowers as I follow the blood trail on the floor.
Four hours later, the steady beat of Declan’s heart monitor has become in tune with my own heartbeat as I sit and wait for him to wake up. He started twitching and nodding his head back and forth not long ago. He should be up and talking soon.
I didn’t have the chance to ask him how he really ended up with a large knife sticking out of his thigh before the doctor shot him full of a sedative. He was passed out before I even had a chance to get in here after Miles took him back; he was belligerent from the sounds of it.
No sooner had Miles gotten him on the gurney and tried to assess his wound, Declan shot up and attempted to find me. The crash I had heard while I was still with Joel had been a tray full of medical supplies that one of the other nurses, Maria, had been carrying. Needless to say, when Dr. Haley jogged into the trauma room before me, he came with a syringe full of Haldol.
He should be awake by now, but the sedative, combined with his obvious exhaustion, has turned this into a nice little nap for him. My shift ended over an hour ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him here like this.
“Still out?” Miles' voice startles me, and I sit up, feeling my own exhaustion settling behind my eyes. I glance at my friend leaning in the doorway as he nods toward the man passed out in the bed.
“He’s coming out of it slowly,” I rasp as though I haven’t spoken all night.
We fall silent for a moment, both of us listening to the steady beeps of the heart monitor. Declan tosses his head to the side, finally starting to fight the clutches of sedation. Again, I ask myself why I’m still sitting here. After the way he acted yesterday morning, I shouldn’t even be able to stand being in the same room as him.
But there was something that happened earlier in the waiting room that I can't get out of my head. I’ve been a nurse for a long time, and I know exactly what to do in instances just like last night. But for some reason I can’t explain away, I felt real panic when I saw him stumble through those doors. I can still feel the echo of my heart stuttering in my chest as I watched him bleed all over the floor. For the first time since he ran into the fire for me, I felt something other than anger, frustration, or this newfound lust for Declan. I felt concerned for him as if I have a right to do so.
He groans as he tries to escape sleep. It won’t be too much longer now.
“That man is crazier for you than I thought,” Miles says, seemingly out of nowhere. I jerk my head in his direction to find him with his eyebrow raised, studying Declan with an odd curiosity. I shake my head almost violently.
“You’re out of your mind if you think that man has any type of feelings for me other than disdain,” I scoff.
When I came into work last night, I avoided Miles as if he were the plague. Mainly because I didn’t feel like talking, but partly because I didn’t want to tell him what happened with Declan yesterday. If I told him what happened, I wouldn't hear the end of it for months.
“Well then call the second floor, because I need to be seen by a fucking shrink. I know what I saw,” he says as though it’s a fact before crossing his arms over his chest, digging in and planting himself firmly within his opinion.
I roll my eyes. “What you saw was a guy who just got stabbed, acting foolish in an emergency room. Sounds like a typical night working during Mardi Gras,” I retort sharply. I know he means well, but the last time I listened to Miles’ cockamamie thoughts on my sex life, his theory was proved so painfully wrong that I surely won’t be forgetting about it in this lifetime. Only he isn’t the one who had to feel the repercussions of his wrong guess, I did. And I don’t think I have it in me to experience any more of his misguided hypotheses.
He shakes his head and shoves away from the doorway. “You didn’t see his face when he saw you still talking to the guy with the flowers. I know an obsessed man when I see one.”
His words shake me, causing me to glance back at the man who is slowly waking up. He groans again and moves his legs restlessly, his fingers gripping the blanket draped over him as he mumbles quietly. I don’t even realize I’m grinning at him until Miles snorts, drawing my attention back to him.
“Oh girl, you have it so bad,” he says, and I frown at him. He holds his hands up in defeat and backs away. “I’m just calling it like I see it, baby girl. But if I were you,” he points toward Declan, and I force myself to look at my friend with indifference. “I would be curious about what this yummy specimen wanted from me. And then I would gladly give it to him from my knees.”
My annoyance flares, deepening my frown into a scowl for my so-called friend. I open my mouth to tell him to put his curiosity where the sun doesn’t shine when Declan starts muttering.
“Sofee,”
I close my eyes briefly, blocking out the look I know Miles is giving me. But his resounding chuckle still manages to send embarrassment coursing through me.
“Yeah,” Miles laughs and pauses as Declan mutters my name again. “Nothing but cold disdain coming from that one.”
“Get out of—” I start to scold Miles before Declan’s pleas cut me off.
“Sofee,” he says loudly, causing me to jump in my seat and fling my gaze to him. He groggily claws at the blanket, ripping it off his legs as he tries to sit on the edge of the bed.
No longer paying attention to a snickering Miles, I quickly move from my seat and rush to Declan. His naked feet are dangling over the edge of the bed as he blindly searches for me, calling my name louder and louder.
“I’m here,” I say in a rush as I place my hand on his shoulder.
He jerks under my touch before gripping my wrist tightly. He pulls me toward him roughly, causing my shoulder to scream from the violent treatment. I stumble toward him, nearly falling onto his lap. Steadying myself with my other hand, I press it against his uninjured naked thigh. His eyes are bloodshot and frantic as he scans my face. Then, as if he finally recognizes me, his features relax and he releases my wrist.
But just as I straighten to move away from him, he clumsily grips my hips and pulls me to him. I’m too shocked to fight him as he pulls me between his spread thighs. The breath that hisses from behind my teeth is loud to my own ears as his fingers dance along my hips until they’re digging into my ass. He then shoves his nose between my breasts, nuzzling me there and breathing deeply.
“Fucking rose petals,” he groans against me, his words muffled by my top. His deep rumble travels from my chest and settles into my core. My pulse jumps in my throat as his fingers start to knead my ass, pushing and pulling me in a restless manner. His attention nearly rips a moan from me until I realize I’m at work and Miles is still watching us.
And as if on cue, Miles snickers from the doorway. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” He grabs the curtain and starts to close it before stopping. “By the way, I put your flowers in a vase at the nurses' station so they wouldn’t wilt.” He winks at me and pulls the curtain shut on us.
You completely forgot about Joel and his flowers, didn’t you?
I ignore my inner voice and clear my throat. Gently placing my hands on his shoulders, I try pushing Declan away from me. He’s clearly disoriented and doesn’t realize it’s me he’s groping.
“Declan,” I try.
“If I bring you flowers, would you smile at me like that?” he slurs, his words still muffled against my chest.
I still as he continues to nuzzle me. How did he even see me smiling? By the time he stumbled into the ER, I was getting ready to politely decline Joel's offer for a date, not smiling at him. He must be delusional from the sedative. He needs to lay back down before he tears his stitches.
“Come on,” I pull my chest away from his face, but he keeps his grip on my ass all the same. “Let's get you back into bed, Casanova.”
He shakes his head but finally allows me to pull him away from me. “My brother told me once that you only get a girl flowers when you want something from her,” he mumbles as he clumsily scoots back on the bed.
His words give me pause once again. “I didn’t know you had a brother,” I mutter more to myself than to him. He grunts in agreement before pulling himself back onto the bed.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Brat,” he says, sounding clearer as he speaks.
I try not to get hung up on his words. Of course, there is a lot I don’t know about him. Anytime I’ve tried to have a conversation with this man, it ends in some stupid argument. It's kind of hard to learn anything about a person when all they want to do is fight with you.
“Why don’t you tell me something else I don’t know about you?” I ask, pushing my luck with the drugs slowly leaving his system. It may be wrong of me to exploit him while he’s in this vulnerable position, but I just can’t pass up the opportunity. This may be my only chance to learn something new about this man, a prospect that I have no right to be excited about.
He scoffs and frowns ridiculously deeply at nobody in particular. The look making me bite my lip to keep my laughter at bay. “I would have brought you one of those damn houseplants that you like. You hate flowers,” he crinkles his nose in disgust, making me grin. “They’re cliche and they die too quickly. I’ve never gotten a girl flowers before, not even Alana,” he says, his voice garbled.
My smile falters as I pause, not sure if I heard him right. He knows I prefer houseplants over flowers? I didn’t realize he paid that much attention to me. Why would he? He has proven time and time again that he doesn’t care for me. So if that’s true, why would he know what I like and what I don’t like?
And who is Alana? I know logically he has been with other women, but I’ve never actually heard him mention any of their names. Even though I have no idea who this old flame is, I can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy as I hear him say her name. I try to shove it down and forget the other woman's name as he continues as if he had never spoken at all.
His thin hospital gown leaves little to the imagination as I help him lay back down. Avoiding looking at the substantial tent of the fabric as he finally reclines, I pull the blanket over him as quickly as possible. Just the slightest glimpse of his excitement has my blood running hot.
Once he’s down, I inspect his bandages for any indication that he may have popped a stitch. Dr. Haley assured me he would be fine. Though we still don’t know how he was stabbed, whoever did it avoided any major arteries. He’ll be swollen and sore for a few days but other than a slight limp, nobody will be able to tell anything is amiss with him.
He becomes increasingly restless as I take a peek at his stitches. They are all still intact. He tugs at the gown covering his chest, revealing his tanned, inked skin below before I move it back into place.
“I’m begging you, please keep your gown on. I don’t think Maria’s heart can take much more of you.” I bite back my grin as he looks up at me with furrowed brows.
“What the hell happened?” he asks, his eyes starting to clear of any residual sleep and disorientation.
“10 milligrams of Haldol,” I say before pulling the blanket back over his wrapped thigh. When I look up again, he's staring at me as if I spoke a different language. I send him a blank stare. “You were being a dick, so the doctor shot you in the ass with a tranq.”
He sighs heavily before running his hand down his face, pulling his cheeks and eyes down in a way that makes me chuckle. His violet eyes shimmer with what looks like regret before he lets his hand fall to his lap.
“It’s fine, you sleep it off, and everything will be alright,” I assure him. When he’s all tucked back into bed, I start to turn away from him. But just as I go to take a step, his hand flies out and grabs my wrist again. This time, he’s surprisingly gentle as he pulls me closer to the bed.
“Stay,” he whispers quietly, and something tugs at my chest. His eyes are soft as he looks down at our hands. He rubs small circles on the inside of my wrist as he does something I never would have expected. He says “Please,” so quietly that I think I imagined it until I see the plea shimmering in his dark gaze.
I can do nothing more than nod my head as I sit on the edge of his bed. Then, shocking myself in the process, I allow him to wrap his arms around me again and pull me to him. He holds me around my waist, forcing me to wrap my arm around his neck so he can nuzzle into me again. Soon, his cheek rests against my breast, his head rising and falling with each of my breaths. I know there is no way he can’t hear the way my heart beats erratically in my chest. My fingers are shaking as I timidly grab his forearm draped over my belly. Soon, his breathing evens back out as sleep takes him under again.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be entertaining his need for human contact. But at this point, I can’t help it. For the last twenty-four hours, I’ve felt nothing but shame and self-hatred, and right now, I need the comfort of another human to remind me of my own worth. Even if this comfort comes from the same person who made me feel this way in the first place, it feels too damn good to ignore. The way his warmth and scent surround me has me melting into him again. I can’t fight the feeling of this being right any longer.
And even if I know this will end badly for me, even if I know he holds all the power to completely destroy me, I allow him to find comfort in me. And I do something I never thought possible; I find my own comfort within my enemy's arms.