Page 40 of All My Broken Pieces

Always

I’m hunting for the perfect GIF response when a throat clears, drawing my attention away from the screen.

A haggard looking, middle-aged man stands on the edge of the lobby. He’s dressed in a pair of green scrubs, a brighter shade of lime green scrub cap covers his head. He slips his finger under the surgical mask covering his face, hanging it around his neck as he looks around the room. “Huxley family?” He calls, drawing the attention of the rest of Fallon’s family.

I take Fallon’s hand in mine, gently squeezing to reassure her that I’m here, that she’s not alone. She squeezes back, her grip remaining tight as the surgeon explains Hudson’s condition.

“Things were a little touch and go for a moment, but,” He pauses, a weary smile crossing his face. “He should make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank god!” Fallon’s mom cries, clinging to her husband. Fallon’s sister smiles politely back at the surgeon, not hiding the obvious lust in her eyes as she drags her gaze down his body.

Fallon sniffles beside me, her body shaking. I gently pluck the coffee from her hand and set the cups on the floor. Turning back to her, I wrap her up in my arms, murmuring, “He’s going to be okay,mi vida.” She nods her head against my chest, fisting my shirt in her hands. Setting my chin on top of her head, I tighten my hold. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Chapter 17

Fallon

I rub my eyes, exhaustion setting in. Now that we know Hudson’s going to be okay, I reluctantly agreed to Arriana taking me back home.

Home.

A smile lifts my lips as I lean my head against the chilly window.

My hand reaches for hers, interlocking our fingers as I bring our clasped hands to my lap.

She’s my home.

And I’ve finally returned.

The early morning light filters into the room, momentarily blinding me as I blink my eyes open. Slapping my hand around, I search for my glasses, sighing when my fingers brush against them.

Snatching up the frames, I slip them on my face before I stretch, letting out a soft noise as my muscles loosen. I turn my head, squeaking as I find Arriana propped up on her elbow as she watches me. “Creepy much.” I mutter, unable to hide my grin.

She hums, running her finger down the center of my chest. A shiver runs through me at her soft touch. “You stayed.” She murmurs, tracing the edge of my breast.

I blink at her, tilting my head to the side. “Um, yeah?” I respond lamely.

Why wouldn’t I have?

A familiar anxiety gnaws at me at the thought.

Maybe I screwed it all up. Maybe it was too little, too late.

Humming again, Arriana slides her hand down further, circling my belly button before slipping under the waistband of my stolen sweats. “I love seeing you in my clothes.” A warmth spreads through me at the possessiveness shining in her eyes. “It makes me feel like you're mine.” She whispers, leaning to hover her lips over mine. “All mine.”

I shudder, my lips brushing against hers as I whisper back, “I am yours.” Holding my breath, I wait for her response, knowing whatever it is will be my answer.

Please still want me to be yours.

She searches my eyes, a hint of desperation filling the chestnut orbs. Her eyes darken at whatever she finds, a smug smile spreading across her face. “Mine.” She growls, taking my bottom lip between her teeth.

I gasp as she bites down, the warmth pooling in my pelvis growing as I whimper. The sound flips a switch in her. Before I can react, she yanks me down, gripping my sweats and tearing them off my body. My breaths come in heavy pants as I watch her discard her own clothes.

Peering down at me, she raises an eyebrow at my tank top. I wiggle on the mattress, desperately trying to remove the offensive material as quickly as possible. Somehow I manage to tangle myself up in the blanket, tank top, and my own hair. I let out a frustrated groan, yanking futilely on my self imposed trap.

Arriana chuckles as she helps to untangle my mess before gripping the thin fabric of my tank. A loud rip sounds as she tears it off of my body.

Holy shit.

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