Page 111 of Just One Bite
When I reach the hallway, Parker’s standing in his full uniform with no shoes, like he ripped his skates off and rushed here. His hair is wet with sweat and blood, and he’s looking me up and down like he’s worried I might die on the spot. There’s a scratch on his cheek oozing blood but healing before my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I say, to get that look off his face.
“Let me take you to the nurse.” He almost knocks over a stone statue in the hall on his way to me.
“Splendid idea,” Mrs. Vix says.
“No, I can dance,” I say desperately. “Please don’t give up my spot.”
“Come back tomorrow, we’ll reevaluate.”
“But …”
My voice is hollow as she almost shuts the door.
“I know how much you want this spot, Olivia. Rest up. We’ll see.”
Parker effortlessly lifts me into his arms bridal style and starts toward the nurse's office. With my arms wrapped around his neck, the heat emanating from him is blazing hot.
“It’s just my wrist.”
“I know your ankle hurts.”
“How?”
He smiles. “I, uh … felt your pain through the bond and got tackled to the ground. Then I just bolted for the studio.”
“The physical pain?”
“Yeah, but mostly I could feel how upset you were.”
I lay with my head on his shoulder and move my throbbing wrist to his chest. Our first performance is in a few weeks, and if let up now, I’ll never get this momentum back. This had to happen at the worst time. I’ve lived with the fear of an injury taking me out of dance since I was a little girl.
Because what would I do?
“Don’t worry and get yourself hurt,” Dad would say.
It lingers like an itch at the back of my skull. Because what if? What if it crumbles? What if there is no ballet?
“I can’t believe I slipped.”
Parker’s breaths are even and steady as I cling to him.
“It will be okay. You heard her, you’ll be back to dancing tomorrow.”
I hope he’s right. Because what if?What if?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Parker
I pace the floor next to the fireplace while I wait. My socks catch on the rug, and I almost trip. Olivia is nauseous because she’s nervous, and it pulses in and out of the bond as she gets checked out. I squeeze my fingers at the pain in my wrist, as they likely try to adjust her for x-rays.
They wouldn’t let me go back with her. She’s obviously a grown woman who doesn’t need my help but … what if she does need me? What if the nurses are shit and don’t listen to her? What if they hurt her more?
The alpha blood is to blame. I’m so fucking worried I’ve asked the nurse five times how much longer. I look like a jackass, but I can’t stop. We’re linked, which means I’m made to protect her. It’s basically woven into my DNA. That makes me relax a little after growling at the male nurse in the infirmary when he tried to take her back.
I stop pacing, and Olivia waddles out of the door with a nurse. She’s barely hiding that limp. I knew she wasn’t going to tell them.
