Page 78 of High Stakes and Soulmates
“There’s still an hour or so before light. I’ll keep looking. I shouldn’t have wasted time here.”
Cyrus gives me a look of surprise. “You are absolutelynotgoing to go out in the dawn to look for Joaquin, you hear me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I know, but?—”
“You think he’d just be chilling out in the sunlight? Don’t be foolish. My phone is busted. What if you found a way to get mea replacement? He could be trying to get ahold of me for all we know. It’s not like he has your phone number. And I sure as hell don’t have his phone number memorized.”
“Okay,” I say. “Yeah, I’ll work on that.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CYRUS
Everything hurts but I can’t sleep. Every time I do, I feel like I’m thrown back into that bathroom stall with that monster coming at me with no way to stop it.
I glance over at Ezio, who hasn’t stopped staring at me since I woke up. Hell, I’m positive he stared at me plenty before I woke up, too, but at least I wasn’t conscious for it.
“I just… I feel like I don’t know if I should just stare back or pretend I don’t notice you staring at me,” I say.
Ezio’s eyes catch mine. “Yeah, either of those is fine,” he assures me, like I wasn’t hinting at the fact that he’s being ridiculous staring at me for hours.
“I’m okay. Like… you see that, right? I’m not just going to keel over.”
“They had to give you blood and they had to drag you back from the brink of death?—”
“That first part might have happened, but I’m not so sure the second part did,” I tell him. “No one said anything about the brink of death.”
“You nearly died in my arms,” he says, and I can tell he’s not joking. I’m not sure whether I actually nearly died in his arms or not, but he’s clearly very shaken up about this. The poor man had to deal with his lover dying in his arms, and then I go and traumatize him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why would you apologize?”
“That had to have been really upsetting. But I promise you I’m okay. I hurt a bit, but I really don’t feel too bad for having been mauled by a werewolf. I’ve definitely fared worse. Like this one time I…” I trail off. “I broke my arm… I don’t even remember how, it was so long ago. I just remember it really fucking hurting, and Joaquin was like, ‘You’re fine! It’s not broken!’ He probably didn’t want Mom or Dad to think he wasn’t watching me properly or something. Who knows with him. Anyway, thank you, Ezio, just… thank you for saving my life.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if?—”
I flick my glower onto him. “Do I need to reiterateagainhow none of this is your fault?”
His expression tells me that it doesn’t matter how many times I say it, he’s never going to believe it.
“Scoot your chair over here,” I demand. Maybe if I can get him closer, I can force him to understand a bit better.
“You need something?” he asks. “Are you hurting? Do you want me to call the doctor? Do you want water? Are you hungry? Are you cold? Are you hot?”
“No… no… and no. I just want you to scoot your chair over.”
Ezio hesitates before giving me a soft smile. “I… shouldn’t.”
“Why?” I ask, wondering what he thinks is going to happen by scooting his chair closer to me. “I’m literally lying over here half dead, and you’re going to refuse?”
“You’re half dead because?—”
The look I give him stops what he was about to say.
“What does scooting your chair close to me cause?”
“It causes me to want to love you,” he says. “But I know I have to pull away from you before I cause you any more pain.”
