Page 52 of Broken Prince

“Not quite, I almost met him though.”

“Not funny,” I grumbled as my heart started to settle down.

“Not even a little?”

I glared, shaking my head.

“Fine.” He sat up on the bed, wincing.

I went to the bed. “Lean forward,” I said, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling him forward toward me so I could adjust his pillows to make him sit more comfortably.

It was awkward this time though as he was conscious and I had my chin resting against his shoulder. I felt him turn his head a little and I felt a faint brush against my hair. Did he just kiss my hair? No, that was stupid.

I shook my head, helping him against the pillow before adjusting the cover around his waist.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I've been run over by a truck.”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah, well, I hope it will teach you a lesson and you won’t do something that stupid again.”

“I didn’t think it would be so bad.”

“Yeah, well… You scared me, Luca, really.”

“I’m sorry, the last thing I want to do is scare you. I never want you to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scaredofyou butforyou? It seems to be my default mode.”

He smiled as his stomach grumbled.

“I have a little food for you. Try to have that, okay?” I settled the tray on him with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a bottle of apple juice.

He looked up at me with an arched eyebrow. “I’m now a five-year-old boy?”

I rolled my eyes. “You need the sugar. Just eat up and take your antibiotics,” I added, giving him two tablets. “You’ll have to take them for at least another week.”

“Yes, boss.”

I sighed, sitting back on the chair while he ate, and I let my eyes wander on his naked chest, and in particular the tattoo he had there.

I was interrupted in my inspection when his fingers brushed against it.

I looked up and met his eyes before looking away, quite embarrassed at being caught red-handed.

“This is the famiglia tattoo,” he said, still tracing it with his fingers. “We all have it—or a variation of it. It all depends on which family you are part of. This one is the East Coast family tattoo.” He sighed, letting his hand fall back on the bed. “I got mine when I was fourteen. It was when I took my final allegiance test. Normally you take it between sixteen and eighteen, but what can I say—I always was precocious.” He said it as a joke but the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. “Sad that these stupid scars didn’t take it away. It would have been the one good thing.”

“Are you even supposed to tell me all that?” I asked gently, leaning forward on my chair to give him my full attention. I wanted to know, of course, but not if it would create issues for him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really care. You saved my life, took care of me, washed my dick… You earned my trust.”

I blushed crimson at the mention of his dick. “Dom was there when I bathed you! It was nothing untoward!”

He let out a little chuckle. “Hey, I'm just joking, but all that to say… You’re in my trust circle now. All you want to know you can ask.”

I nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

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