Page 57 of Booked for the Holidays
She looks up from her screen, mildly alarmed. “He was brought in a little while ago. Exam curtain five—right over there.”
I barely wait for her to finish pointing before I’m weaving between wheelchairs and IV poles, muttering apologies, while my heart thuds in my ears.
Curtain five.Please be okay. Please be okay.
I whip it open and stop cold.
Oh.Oh no.
A man, no, a mummy, lies in the hospital bed, fully encased in a head-to-toe body cast. Only his eyes and mouth are visible. His face is battered, and a little puffy. But he’s tall, dark-haired, and currently very silent.
“Liam?” I croak, my voice wobbling.
He doesn’t answer. Just blinks. Twice.
My eyes fill with tears as I step closer, grabbing the edge of the bedrail. Yes, he’s alive, but a full body cast? It’s so much worse than I’d imagined.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe this happened to you. I—” I let out a shaky laugh. “I’m so mad at you. For scaring me. For being reckless. For kissing me like you did last night and now I can’t even touch you.”
He still says nothing, just another blink.
That’s how we’re going to have to communicate now.
Blink once if you need water, twice if you have an itch.
Selfishly, I’m dying for him to touch me. And now he can’t. At least not for a while. Ugh. Is the universe punishing me for not leaping into his arms the moment he showed up?
Knowing what I’m about to say will be another hit to the ego, I power through the humiliation anyway.
“Here’s the truth, okay?” I say softly, my voice cracking. “You do mean something. You always have. Even when I didn’t want you to. Even when I swore I’d let this silly crush go.”
From behind me, a throat clears.
If that’s the nurse coming to check vitals, it’s the worst possible timing.
“Just a minute. I have to get this out,” I say, dropping to the chair next to the bed. “That watch you found? It was for you, but it wasn’t from Jasper. I picked it out. I saw it at a vintage shop and immediately thought of you.” I swipe at a tear sliding down my cheek. “Even after last Christmas, I never stopped thinking about you. I don’t know how to stop.”
“Firefly.”
The deep rumble makes my heart seize. But unless Liam has a talent for ventriloquism, it did not come from the mummy in the hospital bed. It came from behind me.
I turn my head slowly, and there he is—Liam. No body cast, no tragedy. He’s dressed in snow pants and a sweater, a stitched-up gash on his forehead, and the smuggest fucking grin I’ve ever seen.
“I meant curtain six,” the nurse calls from the hallway. “Sorry! My bad!”
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask.
“Not long.” His lips twitch. “But I did hear every word through the curtain.”
“Oh my god.” I cover my face with both hands.
Swallowing hard, I turn to the man in the hospital bed and whisper, “I’m so sorry.” Then, I shoot Liam a hard stare as I move to rush past him.
He reaches for me, pulling me behind the actual curtain six where I see his winter coat is lying across the bed.
I fold my arms. “You look pretty okay for someone who hit a tree.”
“My ego took the worst of it.”
