get the words out. My throat is as dry as cotton. I begin to uncontrollably cough, and my chest is screaming with a lash of fire.
“Sip.” He brings a plastic cup in front of my mouth with a silver-reusable straw. “It’s water.”
I wrap my lips around the straw and the taste of metal reminds me of blood. I suck down the icy cold liquid and I groan in relief as it coats the back of my throat. I can’t get enough. I drink quicker, as if I’ve been stranded in the desert for days on end.
“Shhh, slower, Comet. Don’t get yourself sick,” he croons, brushing a hand down my arm.
I don’t listen. I keep drinking until there is nothing left.
“Do you remember what happened?”
Now that I’ve been awake for more than five minutes, I remember everything. I nod. “Reaper listened to me,” I grin. “I was your champion.”
His thick fingers land on the side of my jaw, adding pressure to turn my head. “Don’t ever do that again. I can’t stand to see you get hurt.” His eyes lock with mine, turmoil swirling the depth of the earthy tones.
His eyes hold earthquakes that shake my core.
My eyes hold tsunamis to drown his enemies.
And one is always a possibility after the other.
Together, we destroy and give reason to rebuild.
“You scared me,” he admits. “It’s going to scar, Daphne. Doc did the best he could, but it’s so deep. It’s going to take a long time to heal.”
“I don’t care. I’d do it a hundred times for you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy for you,” I croak.
“Which I’ll never understand as long as I live, but I’ll never stop being thankful.” His eyes drift over my face, then stop when he sees my hair. His eyes widen and his lips roll together to keep from laughing.
“I know, I look like I had a few too many.”
“You look beautiful. I don’t care when you think you don’t, you always do.”
“The charmer,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Can you help me to the bathroom? And is this our house?”
“The only room that’s done is this room, the bathroom, and the kitchen.”
“Why aren’t we in the clubhouse?”
He picks me up, keeping my injured side on the outside and my good side tucked near his chest. “I didn’t want us to be there. I needed space. It was too hard seeing Reaper do that to you. I swear, he liked it. I bet he thought he was getting me back.”
“You can’t really think that?” I utter in disbelief.
He sets me on the vanity and grabs my toothbrush.
Wets it.
Toothpastes it.
Wets it again.
Anyone who doesn’t apply toothpaste like this is not human and needs lessons in brushing their teeth. He grunts and grumbles, muttering but not directly speaking to me. He shoves the toothbrush between my lips, and I nearly gag.
I take the handle and do my business, then scrub days’ worth of bad breath off my tongue. I spit in the sink and he has a cup of water ready for me to gargle with.
“Are you in pain? I had to unhook your IV to come in here.”
“Yeah, can we talk after I pee? Have I peed in the last two days? Oh my god, is my bladder going to explode?”
Tongue chuckles, lifting me again, tugs my pants down, and sits me on the toilet.
And doesn’t leave.
He crosses his arms and waits. “Doc took your catheter out earlier this morning because he knew you’d wake up. He sedated you for a few days to give your body much needed rest.”
“It’s a small burn, Tongue. I would have been fine being awake. And I can’t pee with you watching.”
“You can do other things when I’m watching,” he lowers his voice to a deep baritone, reminding me of a musician plucking a string of a bass.
“Go and close the door!” I giggle, then hiss as the pain ignites under the bandage.
“Fine.” He closes the door, but I can see the outline of his body through the frosted glass.
I shake my head but smile, loving how protective and worried he is about me. I do my business and get up, open the door, and find him standing there.
Wayne Hendrix.
My once upon a comet.
And damn, I never thought the wish would come true.
“I love you too,” he says, noticing the loving expression I have plastered across my face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I bet you’ll feel better. Doc will be by again soon to check on you and later, after dinner,