Page 355 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas

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I close my eyes, just for a second, and let the relief roll through me.

Not because I’m okay, but because she’s here.

Everything else is a blur.

The slow beep of a heart monitor. The ache pulsing behind my eyes. The heavy fog in my limbs.

I remember talking to a doctor or a nurse. I’m not sure at this moment, but this ain’t my first time awake. It’s just the first time the room is coming together in more than an image or a sound.

My lips part, but no sound comes out. My throat is desert dry.

Still, I manage a rough whisper of a word.

“Hey.”

She doesn’t move.

I try again, pushing past the weight in my chest.

“Hey...”

I move my fingers, just barely.

Her thumb twitches and pulls her from her sleep. Her eyes blink, unfocused at first.

Then she sees me.

Really sees me.

Her head jerks up fast, eyes wide, hair a mess. Absolutely gorgeous.

“Hart,” she breathes.

I try to smile, but it’s a struggle. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I—” I push into my thoughts. “We were at the rodeo—” Our fight crashes into my head. “Jade, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” She’s already rising. “We’ll get through this. Together.” She squeeze my hand. Right now, focus on feeling better.”

Her chair scrapes backward. She’s on her feet so quickly that the chair nearly tips backward behind her. Her hand touches my chest.

“I need to get someone. It’s the first time you’ve been this lucid.” She’s smiling, backing toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

I want to stop her.

I want her to stay, to sit back down and tell me what the hell happened and how long I’d been lying here.

But I can’t say much more than a rasped, “Okay.”

She’s gone in a blink, calling for help in the hallway.

Footsteps shuffle in the corridor. The curtain pulls aside, and two nurses come in, followed by a man in scrubs with a tablet.

“What’s your name?” He snaps his fingers in my peripheral vision.

“Hart Wilde,” I manage.

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