Page 116 of Meet Me In The Dark
Fuck.
“Did you seriously just full name me?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
I peek through my fingers.
Yup.
Julian.
In the flesh.
“You’re lying in a hospital bed and you didn’t think to tell me?”
Oh, painkillers. Sweet narcotic angels of mercy, please carry me through this moment and straight into the afterlife.
“Let me guess. Madison and Emmy?” I mutter. “I knew they couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”
When I finally lower my hands, he’s right beside me, towering and gorgeous as ever. His eyes are still stormy but softer, like he’s angry for me instead of at me.
I slap my hands over my face again and fake cry. “You’re not supposed to see me like this,” I wail. “I’m supposed to be sexy and mysterious and irresistible. Not bed-bound and pumped full of morphine.”
He takes my hands and coaxes them down from my face.
“The hospital gown is really doing it for me,” he says, smothering a smile.
I groan. “Stop. Just stop existing, please.”
He pulls up a chair as if we’re about to catch up over coffee instead of dealing with the trauma of my malfunctioning reproductive organs.
“Julian,” I whisper, waving him closer.
He leans in.
“They gave me all the good drugs.”
His lips twitch. “Oh, you’re high as a kite, aren’t you?”
I nod, then immediately sniff him.
Openly.
Like a feral bloodhound.
“God, you smell good. Like money and orgasms.”
He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest as if trying to regain some control.
Good luck with that, buddy. I’ve detached from Earth, and I’m not coming down.
“I’m glad you’re in a good mood,” he says dryly.
“I’m in an excellent mood. I can’t feel my uterus. This is the best day of my life.”
“Good, because I need to ask you some questions. Maybe medicated Celeste will give me some honest answers.”
“No fair. That’s emotional manipulation.”
