Page 57 of After We Fall
What is in her job description is administering medication. A delightful medication that currently dulls the sharp corners of my injuries. Concussion protocol won’t allow for normal pain meds or muscle relaxers. But when the nurse entered the room and found me burrowing the injured side of my forehead into the unyielding mattress just after Finley’s dramatic exit, she took pity on me. Or, more accurately, she contacted my doctor who took pity on me and ordered a tiny dose of Dilaudid.
I am now thinking about proposing to my doctor—but this nurse is so nice.
I shift my weight, pulling her arm into my chest and curling my body into the fetal position.
Her hand seems hairier than a woman’s should be.
With a monstrous effort, I pry my eyes open. In a hazy halo is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
“Luke,” I breathe.
His face, pulled close to mine because I’m holding his arm hostage, is a fascinating combination of concern, amusement, and question. “Heard you’ve had a rough night.”
“You’re so pretty.”
A smile tugs at his lips. Lips I can’t take my eyes off of. “You okay?” the lips ask.
“I’m okay.” I sigh, petting his warm hand. “I’m receiving some excellent drugs.”
“I can tell.”
“Do you need some too? Hospital policy won’t let me share, but you never know. I’ve gotten a lot accomplished in my life by simply asking.”
“I bet that’s right,” he mutters.
“Sometimes I think I might want to kiss you,” I whisper.
His eyes flash.
“But then you do something annoying.”
He chuckles. “Then maybe I should stop doing annoying things.”
I lean toward him, our faces only inches away, and offer a sly grin. “Did you know that I’m very good at my job?”
His cheek twitches. “I’m afraid tonight’s going to be a story I’ll tell you in years to come and you won’t believe me. But I really hope you’ll be able to remember this later.”
I don’t know what that nonsense is about, so I continue. “Not surprisingly, I’m also excellent at your job.”
“What are you talking about, kitten?”
“I’m a better hunter than you.”
He lifts his chin. “And how’s that?”
“I found Finley.”
Luke’s hand spasms. He sits up, his arm sliding out of my hold, his piercing eyes alert. Pretty, piercing eyes. “What do you mean, you found her?”
“Well, she came to see me. But it still counts. I found her.” I beam, quite pleased with myself.
“When?”
A brilliant thought comes to me, and I point my finger in the air. “I should charge you a finder’s fee.”
“Penelope, baby. Focus. When did she come visit?”
Gosh, he’s demanding. And his urgency is kind of a buzzkill. But his calling me “baby” feels lovely. Okay. When did Finley come to visit . . . “Right before I got my medication.”
