Page 49 of Love Shots

“I get it,” Ivy whispered.

“I don’t know that you do. I shoulda told her, Ivy.” His throat felt raw. “I shoulda told her every second of every day how I felt. How much I love her. That she’s the only one for me. I spent my whole life wanting her, wanting to tell her just how gone for her I am, and what do I do when I finally get her? I choke. That’s right, when shit gets real, I choke. And now she’s lying in that bed, fighting for her life, not knowing how loved she is.”

Ivy was up and out of her seat before he’d finished his last sentence. She crouched in front of him and dragged him into a hug he never knew he needed until now. It had been a long two days. Every time he closed his eyes he was back in Iraq, only instead of seeing Mason’s lifeless body, he saw Summer’s. Needless to say, he hadn’t slept much.

Teddy soaked up his sister’s comfort. Thankful that his punishing internal monologue had quietened down. At least for the time being. They stayed like that for a while. Enough for his heartbeat to steady.

All that calm lasted a total of two minutes, as the sound of Summer gasping beside him had his heart missing more than a few beats.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Holy shit, my head hurts.

Summer couldn’t get her eyes to open any wider. It wasn’t quite a squint she was sporting, more like a rapid succession of blinks.

“Ivy, hit the lights.”

She recognized that voice. Teddy. Of course Teddy was there. Her knight in shining armor. Witness to yet another mistake that managed to bleed over into his life now too.

Wait. Did he say Ivy? Shouldn’t she be on her honeymoon?

No. Please no.

“Doll.” His voice was closer now. She tried again to open her eyes. It was easier this time. Darker. “That’s it. Open those beautiful eyes for me.”

“Hey.” It was nice to know she sounded just as awful as she felt.

Trying to move her face to look around, she winced at the shooting pains striking her right in the head. Oh dear. Everything hurt. Even her hair hurt.

“Hey, baby.” Teddy’s meaty fingers lightly ran over her cheeks. “How you doing? How are your pain levels?”

Is fifty fucking million a level?

Before she had a chance to answer, the room was flooded. Ivy was followed in by two nurses and someone Summer could only assume was a doctor. The stethoscope gave him away. Teddy was pushed aside as the women fussed over the machines and the lines currently attached to her.

Once she’d been thoroughly examined, the questions began. More pain-level guessing. Sadly, fifty fucking million was not recognized as an official measurement of pain-level assessment.

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