Page 46 of A Little More Hope

“Here.” He picked up the glass on the nightstand. “Drink some water.”

I took the offered straw in my mouth and sucked a couple of times, letting the tepid water slip down my throat, easing the dryness.

“What happened?” I croaked.

“You fainted.”

I glanced around the room again. “Shouldn’t I be in the hospital if I fainted?”

“We called the local doctor,” Gabe answered me. “One advantage of living in a small town, is a doctor who still makes house calls. She came out, checked you over.”

Mason sat forward on the chair next to the bed. “Without an X-ray, Doctor Arran can’t confirm if you’ve fractured any ribs or only bruised them,” he explained. “However, the rehabilitation is the same, and she’s left some information for you to look at. If the pain worsens or your temperature spikes, then we’ll need to take you to the hospital for further tests.”

I stared at him blankly, not sure what else to do.

“Also, Doctor Arran doesn’t think you have a concussion”—he grimaced—“despite me punching you in the face, but we will need to monitor you to make sure that’s the case.”

“Why don’t I hurt?”

“Drugs,” Mason responded, his twinkling eyes making my pulse trip. God, he’s so gorgeous and sexy. His messy hair and five o’clock shadow gave him a rugged look and made my heart flutter. I bet if he dressed in a sack and didn’t shave for a week, he’d never stop looking like an A-list movie star and not the hobo I’d resemble. “Lots and lots of drugs.”

I laughed but ended up coughing, then wincing, as pain shot through my body.

“Remind me to never get in a fight with you two again,” I moaned. “I’d definitely come out the loser every time.”

“Sorry,” Gabe mumbled, clearly uncomfortable about having to apologize.

I dismissed him with a wave. “You were protecting Mase from someone you judged to be attacking him. Why would I be unhappy about that?”

“Mase?” he queried, raising an eyebrow and looking over at the man in question.

If not for the fact all I ever see is Mason and wasn't sedated under a shit-ton of drugs, I’d likely have melted into a puddle at the lazy smile spreading across Gabe’s face, changing his whole demeanor. The usual scowl he wore no longer marred his handsome features, allowing me to finally see him. With his sharply angled cheekbones, square jaw, straight nose, and full mouth, he was stunning. Add in the olive skin, almost-black hair artfully styled like he’d just gotten out of bed, and the green eyes currently sparkling with humor, and he could stop traffic.

Mason gave him the finger.

I scrunched up my face, confused by his response.

“I only allow those closest to me to call me Mase,” he explained. He took my hand, linking us. “You’re one of a very select few.”

Me.

A weird feeling fluttered around in my chest, the sensation heating me, warming my heart, spreading its tendrils along my senses. For some reason, he’d allowed me to be a part of that small group and had done so from the very beginning without me even being aware of it.

If I’d hoped not to be a complication for the man, I discovered how wrong my previous decision had been. He’d somehow found his way into my heart, lodging himself deep, settling in, ensuring there was no way I’d ever give him up. He’d better learn to get used to having me around as I planned on going nowhere. No matter what.

A sudden memory from their conversation when Gabe had first arrived resurfaced in my fuzzy brain. “You told him,” I stammered. “You told him we…we…”

“Aaaaand, there’s my cue,” Gabe said. I’d already forgotten about him, so engrossed in looking at the dirty-blond, blue-eyed man sitting beside me. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He headed out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Order food,” Mason called after him and got a muffled reply in confirmation.

The sardonic look covering his face made me laugh. “What?” I asked.

“I hurt your jaw, bruised your ribs. Gabe nearly strangled you and left you almost needing a new kidney, and that’s what you remember?”

I bristled. “It’s important.”

A deep sexy laugh erupted from his throat and long fingers stroked down the side of my face. The man liked to touch me. “Yes, it is,” he replied, “very important.”

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