Page 11 of Cardinal House

Too good.

I’ll be discharged soon and I’ll never see her again.

Saying nothing in response, she carries on assessing my chest, I let my eyes close once more, and her fingers leave my skin. The sound of her opening up a fresh dressing is loud in the room, and when her touch comes back to me, I flinch. It is like electric shocks bolting through my veins, bringing me to life with the mere touch of her. I wonder, not for the first time, why I’m such an arsehole to her.

It’s like we’re in the playground and I’m pulling on her pigtails and shoving her into the dirt. Because I like her.

What’s worse is that so do my brothers.

My dad.

They’re all on first name basis with her like they’re longtime friends, and me, I can’t even form her name on my tongue before I’m being a rude fuck.

My stomach clenches with thoughts of Raine. He’s the only one who hasn’t been by, hasn’t text, hasn’t called. No one knows where he is and no one can get hold of him. He has a lot of issues, he uses a lot of substances to cope with things that haunt him, and sometimes he’ll disappear for days, he always comes back, but he’s never disappeared after shooting his brother before either, that’s what has me worrying.

But that’s no reason to treat this woman, who is never anything but gentle with me, like shit.

I’m thirty-four years old, I need to get a fucking grip.

I open my eyes, lips parting to finally, finally speak her name, and the door’s are swinging closed at her back as she leaves me alone once more.

I don’t press the call button again for the rest of her shift, but I do manage to hobble out into the hall after watching her step inside one of the storage rooms.

“Wolf!” Luna whispers with alarm as I stumble into the tiny room, clinging onto a shelf for balance.

Shelves and shelves of dressings and bandages in different coloured trays line the walls, filling the room.

“What are you doing out of bed?” her bright eyes flick frantically over my shoulder, through the open door towards the hall at my back, so I slap out my hand and manage to dislodge it from the doorstop.

It shuts slowly, one of those soft-closing safety features, and then I’m slumping back against it, my breathing ragged in my chest, dizziness tightening my lungs, but I keep myself up, clad only in a loose pair of black boxer shorts, I stay standing.

“I was a dick,” I say sternly, frowning at myself, “and I needed to apologise.”

With a thud, my head drops back against the solid wood, no sound filtering in from outside the door, and I stare down at her, her big eyes wide on mine. She looks nervous but she doesn’t flinch back, she doesn’t try to step away, and she could, I’m useless in this state, and she’s got plenty of space if she wanted to avoid me.

“I don’t want to scare you,” I whisper the words, closing my eyes for a second as black spots burst in my vision.

“You don’t,” she breathes, a shuddery exhale. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Mr Blackwell.”

“Wolf,” I rasp.

“Wolf,” she repeats quietly, and it’s like a tether tugs at my balls, heat sinking into my stomach.

“I love hearing you say my name,” I confess, and it feels so unlike me, but it doesn’t feel wrong in this moment, it feels important that she knows.

“We need to get you back to bed,” she says, her voice still a whisper, cracking with urgency to get me to comply.

“I needed to get you alone, just for a moment,” I push off of the door, fisting the metal pole of a shelving unit dividing the room.

Luna backs up, bumping into it, her head tipped back, her pretty eyes on mine, “Wolf,” she warns again, and it makes my dick throb in response.

I dip my face down into hers, clinging onto the shelving unit to hold me up, our lips almost brushing. She sucks in a sharp breath, my own rushing over her mouth as I exhale heavily. Her hands come to my chest, fingertips delicate over the rough gauze taped over my stitches.

“Wolf.”

“Fuck, I love that,” I murmur against her lips, my cock sitting heavy in my boxers. “Let me take you to dinner,” I tilt my head, slanting my mouth over hers, my whiskey-caramel eyes flicking between her icy-blues. “I’ve been a grumpy shit with you,” I lick my lips as I say it, catching her cupid’s bow, her expression softening. “Let me show you I’m not really like that. Say yes, Luna.”

“I can’t,” it’s barely a whisper, but to me it rings loud and clear as if she’d shouted it at me.

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