Page 44 of The Love Destroyers

“What are you doing here?” the woman asks Nicole sharply, looking her up and down. “You don’t—”

“There’s something wrong with this food,” Nicole says, picking up the tray. “I’m going to bring it down to the cafeteria for a thorough investigation.” And she takes off with it without another word.

The woman in the rectangular glasses watches her for a second, then shakes her head and murmurs something about interns before turning to me with a bright smile. “Mr. James…I’ve heard so much about you. We’re going to take the very best care of you.”

The next coupleof hours are boring as fuck.

After examining me, leaving, and then returning, all without any explanation, the doctor informs me that I likely have a minor concussion and tells me to avoid stress, physical activity, use of electronics, and driving. Finally, I am released, and the red-haired nurse, Paul, warns me that he has to wheel me out in a wheelchair, which is a rule, not a medical necessity. He apologizes at least four times and asks me not to let “her” know. I assume he’s talking about the doctor with the rectangular glasses, who didn’t seem like much of a hardass, but some people are good at hiding their true nature.

I don’t feel any great need to be a dick, so I sit in the chair and consent to being wheeled around by a man I could carry around in a Baby Bjorn.

My family and friends are gathered in the part of the waiting room closest to the entrance-slash-exit, because I texted Declan and Rosie to say I was getting sprung. Nicole and Damien are gone, but everyone else is present. Emma is in the back, looking a little pale and nervous. My gaze settles on her and sticks.

I’m okay, I try to silently convey.

But the second my sister sees me, she turns to Emma and says, “Holy shit, what did you do to him?”

Emma blushes—blushes—and a strange feeling washes through me. An inner warmth. It…delights me to see her blushing. “I didn’t do anything,” she hisses. “It was my mother.”

“Uh. Are you sure you want me to leave you with these people?” Paul asks.

“Yeah,” I say, laughing—and then not laughing, because it hurts. “Yeah, it was a misunderstanding.”

He gnaws on his lower lip, looking like he’s giving some serious thought to blasting my chair through the crowd and out into the cold night.

“It was Mrs. Rosings in the study with the paperweight,” Rosie says with a grin as I rise from the wheelchair. She’s acting light-hearted, but I can tell she was worried. Anthony’s holding her hand, as he should, and I nod to him, glad they still think they love each other. Hopefully, they’ll carry on thinking it forever, because I like seeing my sister happy.

“Thanks for driving me around,” I tell Paul, who says “thank you” in response, then looks embarrassed, and wheels the chair off with at least five backward glances at us. I give him a wave, and he nearly trips over his sneakers.

Huh. That doctor must really have him running scared.

“You’re okay?” my brother asks, giving me the worried mother hen look no man wants to get from his brother.

“I’m fine,” I confirm. “Just a little headache.”

Meaning my head feels like it’s going to cave in.

Turning to look at Emma, who’s still at the back of the group, near her brother and my sister, I ask, “Where’s our cat?”

“Oh no,” Rosie says, her eyes widening. “Are you sure they discharged you? Maybe you got hit harder than they realized.”

“We found a cat in the walls of my house,” Emma says, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “We’ve decided to share custody of Shadow.”

Rosie still looks like she thinks I lost my mind, not that I’m surprised. I’m not the kind of guy who goes around rescuing cats and co-adopting them with a woman he’s not even fucking. Maybe I’ll regret making the offer, but I don’t regret it yet. I likethat there’s something else tying me to Emma Rosings Smith, beyond the flask and lighter.

“Well?” I ask Emma.

“Well, I’d better get home to make sure she hasn’t tried serving Shadow a gin martini.Ifyou’re okay.”

“I am,” I lie.

Emma hesitates, and I wonder if she’s feeling the same way I am—like it’s strange to step back and leave each other after the afternoon we shared.

We saved that little cat together, and it felt good.

She sat on my legs, her perfectly round ass parked on them, and that felt better.

She ran her soft hands all over my face, and I felt itall over.

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