Page 210 of Cross Checked
I stared at him, and he stared back, and oh my gosh, I was absolutely not stable enough for this. I was injured. I was vulnerable. I was wearing a hospital gown that had definitely seen too much of humanity. This was not the correct environment for romantic emotional escalation.
“You can’t say us like that,” I muttered.
“Like what?”
“Like you own the word.”
“I do.”
My stomach flipped, which was deeply inconsiderate because my ribs were already filing complaints with management. “You’re very arrogant for a man sitting next to someone who can’t physically fight back.”
“You wouldn’t win healthy.”
“I would emotionally confuse you until you surrendered.”
“You do that daily.”
“Exactly. I have a system.”
His laugh came low and quiet, brushing over me warmer than the thin hospital blanket tucked around my waist. It made my throat ache for reasons that had nothing to do with Luke’s handprint and everything to do with the fact that Cade Mercer was sitting there teasing me like my face wasn’t swollen and the world hadn’t nearly ended.
And that was exactly why I needed him.
Not because he ignored the damage. He saw it. Holy shit, he saw all of it. Every few seconds, his gaze flickered to my throat, my cheek, my lip, and every time it did, the air around him changed. He looked like violence wearing human skin. But he kept coming back to my eyes. Kept answering my jokes. Kept letting me be a girl instead of a crime scene.
I loved him for that.
The thought slipped through me so quietly I almost didn’t catch it.
Then I did, and my entire body went still.
Cade noticed because Cade noticed everything, which was honestly getting old.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Pip.”
“Don’t Pip me when I’m medically fragile.”
“You’re spiraling.”
“I am not spiraling. I’m reflecting.”
“On what?”
“Your many flaws.”
His mouth curved. “Name one.”
“You know when I’m spiraling.”
“That’s not a flaw.”
“It is to me.”
He leaned closer, careful not to jostle the bed. “You were getting there with the marble.”
