Page 69 of The Head Game

The nurse woke him several times too and Nico grumbled about it, annoyed because he was so very tired but August stood on the other side of the bed, stroking his hand until he settled and let her fuss over him.

When she was gone and the sky through the window was beginning to grow light, Nico tugged at August.

He was too weak to move him but August bent forward. “Hey, what’s wrong? What do you need?”

His voice was sleep-raspy and Nico liked it. “Want you close,” he said fretfully. “Makes me feel better.”

“It’s a hospital bed. I can’t climb in with you,” August said quietly.

“Yes, you can.” With great effort, Nico scooted over and sleepily patted the bed next to him.

“God, you’re a pain,” August grumbled, but he sounded almost fond and Nico smiled when he squeezed in beside him.

Nico let out a sigh of contentment when he felt August’s body pressed to his. “That’s better,” he said, relieved.

August grumbled a little as he tried to arrange their limbs but eventually, he found a position that worked, one arm sliding carefully under Nico’s pillow, his other settling on Nico’s stomach.

Nico sighed, the tension draining from his body. He liked the warmth of August’s chest and the weight of his palm.

Nico fell asleep to August’s deep, even breathing and when he awoke, it was brighter out and there was a different nurse in the room, doing something with the IV.

“Mr. Manning,” she whispered. “You aren’t supposed to be in bed with the patient.”

“I know.” August rasped. “But he was sleeping restlessly and talking in Dutch half the time and …”

“Well, that’s not unusual,” she said with a small smile. “Sometimes after trauma, the brain gets a little mixed up about which language is which. Sometimes people can speak a language they’ve never spoken before.”

“Already speak English, Dutch, bit of Arabic, and li’l French,” Nico mumbled, finally getting his eyes all of the way open. “Don’t need any more.”

She chuckled. “How are you feeling this morning, Nico?”

“Like I got no sleep,” he muttered grumpily.

“Well, you get some more rest then. We’ll get you up in a bit for breakfast and some assessments to make sure everything is in working order but you can sleep until then.”

“You want me to move?” August asked. But he hadn’t lifted his arm from where it rested across Nico’s stomach, his body warm and comforting where they were pressed together.

“No. You might as well stay at this point if the patient wants you there,” she said.

“Want him here,” Nico said petulantly.

“Well, Nico, it’s a good thing you have such a devoted fiancé then,” she said with a laugh as she draped a blanket over them both. “You’re going to be quite a handful during your recovery I’ll bet.”

Nico squinted. Fiancé? Huh. That sounded … weird.

As she turned and walked away, August lowered his head onto the pillow beside Nico’s with a sigh.

Nico stared at the ceiling. He could only sleep on his back in this stupid bed with his stupid head wound and the IV and it sucked.

But even when he closed his eyes, the word fiancé swam around and around his poor battered brain.

He wasn’t engaged, was he?

He didn’t remember that. Of course he didn’t remember a lot of things. Everything still felt fuzzy and like he had to squint and focus hard to get his thoughts to behave.

Nico yawned and turned his head to look at August.

Oww. That hurt. He hadn’t been able to feel much of anything yesterday except a sore throat but damn, his scalp was starting to hurt now.

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