“No. You’re coming home with me.”
The casualness dropped from her expression instantly, and she bristled. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” My voice was calm, but the underlying authority was clear. Uncompromising.
Her jaw tightened, her gaze challenging as she pushed back against my claim. “I’m fine, Thayer. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I don’t need a babysitter.”
My gaze softened just a fraction because, despite the bravado, I heard the faint edge of vulnerability in her voice. She needed to feel like she was in control—even if she wasn't.
“Not babysitting,” I corrected gently, framing it in clinical terms that made the most logical sense. “You had a head injury, even if it’s minor. Like I said before, we can’t rule out a concussion yet. I want to observe you overnight, make sure there aren’t any delayed symptoms. It’s standard protocol, Hadley.”
She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. The logic was hard to argue with. It took a bit of wind from her sails, and her shoulders eased ever so slightly, her defensiveness slipping into curiosity. “Do you insist on personal overnight observation for every patient who takes a hit to the head?”
I met her gaze. “No.”
The single word hung heavily between us. I offered no further explanation, just let it sit there in silence, allowing her to read whatever she wanted into my simple admission.
She blinked once, then twice, a small crease forming between her brows. Clearly, my directness confused her, maybe even unnerved her a little more than she expected. She shifted her weight, suddenly looking unsure, like someone who’d prepared for a fight that wasn’t coming.
I stayed quiet, giving her space to process. Watching carefully, I noticed how she bit the corner of her lip, then released it slowly, her posture relaxing as she came to some silent conclusion. Finally, she exhaled softly and nodded, her voice quiet and resigned.
“Okay.”
That single word—acceptance cloaked in wary trust—filled my chest with a relief I hadn’t anticipated. She was mine now, even if she didn’t fully realize it yet. And I wasn’t letting her go until I was sure she was safe.
Hadley Rivers had crashed into my carefully constructed world, and nothing would ever be the same again.
5
CAGE
My house sat tucked back from the main road, a sprawling single-level place that struck the balance between comfortable and private. It was a haven, not flashy but built solid—just like me. The kind of home where I could shut the world out after a long day at the hospital or a tough night in the clubhouse. The driveway curved into the shadow of a garage big enough for several bikes and my SUV, framed by palms that rustled in the evening breeze, providing a quiet calm.
I glanced at Hadley as I parked, noting the way she bit her lip, clearly uncertain, though she masked it well. She followed me inside, her steps cautious but steady. I flicked on the entry lights, the warm glow spilling over the dark hardwood floors, catching her eyes as she took in the space.
I led her straight to my bedroom, not hesitating for even a second. Her eyes went wide when we stepped inside, lingering on the neatly made bed draped in a deep charcoal comforter. It was simple but welcoming, something built for comfort and rest—though right now, my mind drifted to an entirely different use for it. The image of her beneath me, her green eyes flashing withheat as I peeled off the layers of clothes between us, ignited a fierce surge of desire low in my body.Fuck.
My eyes tracked the faint crease between her brows, the wary line of her mouth, and how her pulse fluttered visibly at the base of her throat. She was so fucking beautiful, and I wanted to trace every curve of her with my mouth until I knew them by memory alone.
“Hold on,” I murmured, attempting to think of anything that would soften my throbbing cock. Moving to my dresser, I grabbed one of my T-shirts, worn soft from countless washes, and handed it to her. “Change into this, baby. You need rest.”
Hadley’s gaze flicked up to mine, searching and unsure. She opened her mouth like she might protest, but I softened my voice, letting it drop to a quiet rumble as I added, “You’ll feel better once you’re comfortable. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
Her cheeks pinked a little at that, and she was even more beautiful when she was soft and vulnerable, standing at the foot of my bed, gripping the worn cotton of my shirt in her hands. Before she could argue or question further, I stepped out, closing the door softly behind me.
My cock throbbed with frustration as the image of her stripping down and pulling my shirt over that soft, curvy body seared into my mind.
Fuck.She was in my bedroom. About to climb into my bed. Wearing nothing but my T-shirt. My skin heated, and my dick strained painfully against my jeans. I shoved out a breath, forcing my steps toward the kitchen. I needed to get my damn head on straight, or I was going to march right back in there, peel that shirt back off, and claim her in every fucking way I wanted.
In the kitchen, I filled a glass of water and shook a couple of painkillers into my palm, my thoughts returning to the bedroom. My body had a mind of its own, stirring restlessly at the memoryof her skin under my fingers and the heat of her body pressed to mine when I’d assessed her injury. I forced myself to exhale and steadied my nerves, reminding myself to get my shit under control before I walked back in there.
When I returned, she stood beside the bed, the hem of my T-shirt hanging just below her thighs, looking unsure and shy as hell. The sight hit me like a kick in the gut—hard, sweet, and absolutely fucking perfect. My dick twitched, and I silently cursed myself, wondering how I’d survive the night with her dressed in nothing but my shirt. The image of peeling it off, revealing inch after tempting inch of her curves, tested every ounce of self-control I had left.
Her gaze lifted to mine, her bright eyes filled with questions and a faint edge of defiance. I held out the water and pills, my voice gentle but firm. “Take these.”
She accepted them, downing the pills with a sip of water. Her throat moved as she swallowed, drawing my gaze to the delicate line of her neck, and I clenched my jaw against the fierce need to trace that same path with my lips.
“Get into bed, baby,” I said gruffly, my voice thick with the lust I couldn’t fully hide.