Page 22 of The Fate Philosophy

Dominic.

The nurse gave me an irritated look. “Your boyfriend is…persistent.” She strode across the room and began checking my vitals. “He’s quite worried about you. Although, I do suppose it’s sweet.” She began making notes in a chart before looking up at me and smiling mischievously. “Should we put him out of his misery, or do you want to make him suffer a little longer?”

I could only blink at her.

Dominic-fucking-Evans was yelling at this poor, sweet, nurse because she wouldn’t let him see me. He was outside the emergency room door, begging to be let in. Begging to know if I was okay. I wasn’t even sure how he knew I was here. If he knew what had happened.

I wasn’t surewhyhe was here.

I felt as if I had zero control over my mouth as I spoke, “Let him in.” She nodded with a smile as she walked toward the door. “And he’s not my boyfriend, by the way.”

She turned back to me, placing a hand on her hip. “Brother?”

I shook my head. Her brows furrowed.

“Friend?” I said it as a question.

She snickered, muttering something like, “Uhuh,” as she turned around and grasping the door handle. Before she could get it opened all the way, Dom’s broad body was barreling through it.

He reached the bed I was on in two long strides, his hands immediately combing over my face, pushing my hair away from my forehead. He said nothing as he scanned me, running his fingers along my cheek and the curve of my jaw.

“Are you okay? Where are you hurt? What happened?”

I looked over at the nurse and shrugged. I had no idea. We hadn’t gotten the results of my scans back yet, as far as I knew. He followed my gaze until his eyes met hers again.

“I am so sorry for how I spoke to you. I don’t do well in hospitals.” His eyes fluttered bashfully and I could’ve sworn she swooned. “I was worried about her. I’m sorry again,” he glanced at her badge, “Debra.”

She blushed. “No need to apologize. I understand.”

He looked back down to me, his thumb running across my cheek. “What happened, Mace?”

“Umm,” I began. “I got knocked out? I guess. I don’t really…” I shook my head. “I was being stupid. I got too excited aboutTwilight. I was being too loud and reckless in the bar and…” I trailed off. I gave Debra a pleading look, hoping she’d understand what I couldn’t say.

She cleared her throat. “She received blunt force trauma to the head. There was a small laceration on her forehead. We ran a CT and a few other tests. She has a minor concussion that should heal on its own in a few days with proper rest. The cut didn’t require any stitches. She’ll need to ensure she keeps it clean and dry, so as to not risk infection, but that should heal too.”

Dom looked back and forth between us, his nostrils flaring. I watched his jaw tense before his eyes finally settled on me. “Did…did someone attack you?” he asked with a deadly calm.

Debra shot me a raised brow as if to say:not your boyfriend, huh?

“Who in the fuck hurt you, Macie?”

His first assumption was that someone attacked me. Not that my own stupidity caused me to give myself a concussion. Not that I had caused such a ridiculous scene in a crowded bar over a 2008 movie soundtrack that I’d knocked myself out.

What would his reaction be once he did find that out?

With that realization settling in my bones, my head fell into my hands as sobs began to wrack my body. I heard my nurse whisper something about processing discharge papers and giving us a minute alone.

The second the door clicked shut behind her, I felt the narrow hospital bed dip. Dom gently pushed me forward as he slid in behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“It’s okay, baby girl.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, hushing me quietly. “I’m going to take you home. Is that okay? Can I bring you home?”

Despite all the reminders I’d been given in my life to think before I spoke– before I acted… The reminders not to make impulsive decisions. The understanding that Dom and I were hardly friends. That this friendship was rapidly barreling into something destructive. Despite knowing I didn’t trust myself alone around him. Knowing that the way he felt pressed against me was far too intoxicating to be considered healthy– I found myself nodding against his chest.

And despite knowing that it should, it didn’t feel wrong.

Chapter 8

Domlistenedattentivelywhenthe doctor came in to discharge me. He explained standard concussion protocol, which Dom was already briefed on, apparently. He had several during his high school football years, he’d said. The doctor explained that I was to rest for at least the next twenty-four hours. That I was to avoid any strain on my eyes, including phone, television, and computer screens.

---