When I wake up, Tynan is there, asleep in the awful bed/chair combos the hospital makes you sleep in. I’m happy he’s finally getting some rest, because for the past two days he’s kept watch at my bedside, hardly sleeping. It’s catching up to him.
Since we came out of that ravine four days ago, I’ve done nothing but sleep. I was in surgery for a few hours, and when I surfaced from the anesthesia, Tynan was there, holding my hand and stroking my hair. It seemed too good to be true, but when I woke up again later and he was still there, I decided it wasn’t a dream.
It’s not a dream now that he’s here, although it still feels like one. His foot is in a heavy cast—he had surgery too, although his was a little less intense than mine, and he’s got some screws holding his bones in place now. His thick hair falls over his forehead, and his lips are slightly parted. He doesn’t look peaceful or younger—his expression is still too intense for that even in his sleep—but I feel content watching him.
I pull myself up to a sitting position slowly, partly because my wound is still tender and partly not to wake him. I’m sick of sleeping, but he definitely needs his.
There are dozens of books and magazines on my tray—Raven brings a new one each time she comes to visit, along with a new bouquet—but I don’t feel like reading. I ought to pick up my laptop and see what’s happening at work, but I also don’t feel like that. Tynan was appointed as COO while I was recovering, and in between sitting by my bed, he’s been managing things from here. I haven’t had to worry thanks to him, but I can’t leave it forever.
Still, I want to keep watching him. He’ll be leaving again soon. Probably even before I’m discharged, which could be tomorrow, if not sooner. The thought has my heart dipping.
Too soon, his eyes blink open. He looks almost vulnerable half-awake, like he’ll never allow himself to be once he’s fully in command of himself.
“Hey.” His voice is a deep rasp. “You’re awake.”
“Yep.”
“I mean”—he sits up—“awake awake. How do you feel?”
“Good,” I say honestly. “I can’t recommend getting shot, but I feel surprisingly okay.”
I mean it as a joke, but his expression closes off. “I’m sorry about that. If I’d known about that trap—”
I lay a hand on his arm. “You’d have disarmed it. I know. I don’t blame you at all.” I tense up because I never want to go back to that place, but I know he’s going to. And I’m terrified for him. “How’s your ankle?” I ask quickly to sidestep that issue.
He shrugs. “All right.” Clearly he doesn’t care about his injury. “Are you sure you’re okay? I think you’re due for more meds.”
I shake my head. “Please, no more meds. At least nothing stronger than ibuprofen. I want to be able to think again.”
His mouth compresses. “If you’re in pain, you should have them. And it’s been five hours, forty minutes since your last—they must have worn off by now.”
They have, which is why I’m so touched by how he knows to the minute when I last had pain meds. “Seriously, I’m fine. Mostly I want to get out of this bed.”
Immediately he’s up out of the chair. “No. Absolutely not.”
I blink up at him. “I wasn’t going to leap out of bed.” Although I was planning on swinging my legs over the side.
“Liar.” He narrows his eyes. “I’ll make you a deal—you stay in bed and I’ll update you on what’s going on at home.”
His use of the word home shouldn’t make me so happy. But it does.
We spend twenty minutes going over everything that’s happened in my absence. Oscar still isn’t talking, no one’s had any other mysterious accidents, and we’re now maybe six months away from real clinical trials on Dad’s brain-computer interface. The test chips are already being manufactured. Things are as settled as they can be.
Somehow as we finish up, my eyes are burning. I want so badly for Tynan to see how good we are together.
“Morgan.” He sets aside the laptop, takes my face in his hands. “What’s wrong? I’ll call for the nurse.”
“No!” My voice is watery and I hate it. I meant to be my usual strong, stoic self. But I just can’t anymore. “You told me you loved me but you’re still leaving.”
Tynan smiles. Holds my face in his hands as I confess that and… smiles. “I’m not. I meant to tell you when you were totally awake and pain free. But I’m not leaving. I’m coming home. With you.”
It takes a moment for that to sink in. It’s so contrary to everything he was saying before, and I want so badly for it to be true… “What changed your mind?”
“A couple of things.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “First, the guys came back for me.”
“How did they know to find us?” I’ve wondered about that but haven’t had a chance to ask.
“They were going to convince me to come back.” His expression actually softens as he says it, like he still can’t believe it. “They realized they should have come looking for me after the accident no matter what, and they were trying to make it right.”
My breath catches. “I should have—”
He lays a finger on my lips. “No, you shouldn’t have. You’d just lost your dad. And I should have at least come to find you. I realize that in the aftermath, we all fucked up.” There’s a light in his eyes I can barely stand to look at it’s so intense, but I can’t tear my gaze away. “I also realized something while we were down there. If you didn’t make it, I wasn’t coming back up.”
“Oh, Tynan.” My heart is breaking all over again.
He runs his fingertips over my face like he’s memorizing it. “No. If you died, I wanted to die with you. But afterward I thought about it and—if I was willing to die with you, then I also want to live with you. No matter what.”
I’m crying now, great, ugly sobs, but only because I’m so happy. Because I thought this could never be and it is. He wipes the tears away with his thumb, smiling the whole time. Which only makes me cry harder because his smiles are so rare and gorgeous.
“But you hate it,” I get out, meaning the entire circus surrounding us.
“But I love you,” he says. “We’ll figure it out. We can’t be a hashtag forever.”
“We’ll live quietly,” I promise. “No Instagram. No social media at all. We’ll be so boring it hurts.”
Now he’s kissing away my tears, slow and sweet. “You could never be boring,” he says between kisses. “We’ll live exactly the way we want to. I love you, and the rest of the world can go to hell.”
He catches my mouth, and we kiss until the beeping from my monitors interrupts us. I glance at the screen. “Whoops. My blood pressure spiked a little bit there.”
Tynan firmly but gently puts me back against the pillows. “No more of that until you’re out of here.”
I’m tempted to argue, but since I should be out of here soon, I let it go. If he’s coming home with me, I can be a good girl in the hospital. “Can you call the nurse and ask when that will be? Because I feel much better now.”
One corner of his mouth crooks up. “You’re not rushing out of here just because you can’t wait to seduce me. Or because I can’t wait to seduce you.”
“It’s true,” I say. “I also can’t wait to start my life with you. Finally.”
He can’t help it—he kisses me again, slow and consuming. “Me either.” He pulls back. “But we have one last thing to do,” he says grimly.
I know exactly what he means. It’s time to finally deal with Oscar, once and for all. “We’ll do it together. When we get home.”
He links his fingers with mine, his hold on me so strong I know it will never break. No matter what.