“You okay?” he asks, for what I swear is like the hundredth time today. I bite my bottom lip to keep from telling him that he’s being annoying with all of his questions. I may pout or even give him a dirty look when he does it, but deep down, I live for these moments when he’s all paranoid. I just wish he didn’t have reason to be paranoid.
“I’m okay,” I say and give him a soft smile. He’s got almost a week’s worth of stubble on his chin, as he hasn’t shaved since the morning of the day I was taken. I had a bath yesterday, and that was interesting—he insisted on crawling in there with me. I’m not sure how clean I am, as my skin’s a little filmy, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him he did a poor job.
“Are you sure? Because if you’re not, Nic can go fuck herself,” he says. His eyebrows pull together as he looks me over.
“I’m fine,” I say a little stronger this time and pull myself up into a sitting position as best I can. Ryan’s hovering makes it difficult, and I have to elbow him in the stomach to finish the task. “And I asked Duke to bring her by. He says she’s been worried, and apparently it’s a big deal for her to come to the house, and she’s willing to do it to see me. So yes, I’m sure.”
“Don’t like it,” he mutters and crosses his arms over his chest. In the days since the club found me in that warehouse, so much has changed. Jim’s been nothing but kind, my mom’s finally stopped crying, and now she just walks around with a big, stupid smile on her face when I can see her, but I have it on good authority she’s worried about Michael. Despite everything, so am I. He’s my brother, and even if he was a serious asshole and I’d like to return the favor one day, he’s my brother. For the longest time, before I had the club and Ryan, and Nic—before I knew my mother—and before I found out Ian’s my brother as well, all I really had was Michael and Gloria. I have no idea what’s going on with Gloria, and the club’s got Michael locked in a safe house somewhere nearby. I’m just not allowed to see him.
“You don’t have to like it,” I say for about the tenth time today. The moment I told Ryan that I wanted to hang out with Nic—alone—he practically blew a gasket. I had to hold his face and kiss him for five minutes straight before he calmed down enough to be spoken to in a rational and calm tone. “You’ve been great, you really have. But I need a little girl time. I have a lot to talk about that I can’t say with you playing helicopter.”
“I’m not a fucking helicopter, and if you’re sick of me, Cub, just say so. You don’t need to play these fucking games like you need girl time or whatever bull shit you’re coming up with. Just tell me if I’m being annoying,” he says in a rush of words that are half mumbled. Throwing the covers off himself, he crawls out of bed on the other side and stomps around the room in his boxers.
“You’re being annoying,” I say plainly while trying to keep a straight face. It’s not so much that he’s cute when he’s like this as it is that he’s starting to drive me crazy. If I don’t choose to think it’s funny, I’ll have to ask my mom come to in and paddle the attitude right out of him. Because damn.
“Thanks,” he snaps and bends down, picking up his jeans and sliding them on. “I’m just trying to help, you know. You’re all clingy and shit, but whatever. It’s fine.” He plops down at the foot of the bed and starts shoving his feet into his boots. Very slowly, I lean over, ignoring the pang of discomfort in my ribs. Doctor James said it would be a couple weeks before I was back to normal, but I’m impatient. I’m not a cripple, but I might as well be with how little Ryan lets me move. Even when we make love, he demands that I don’t do much of anything. He’s totally turning me into a pillow princess, but if he’s willing to live with the consequences of his actions, I think I can live with being pampered.
Crawling up behind him, I wrap my arms around his neck. “Don’t be mad,” I say and give his neck a kiss.
“Get your ass back in bed,” he mutters and pulls away from me. I sit on my legs and pout at him. A dull ache gets stronger in my side, and, without thinking, I rub it softly to numb the pang.
“Now you’re hurting yourself,” he says and shakes his head. His eyes are narrowed and his pitch black hair is falling in his face. He pulls the covers back and points at my spot in bed and says, “Now.”
“You are so damn bossy,” I say and move too quickly. A sharp pain explodes in my knee and travels up to my hip.