“Around six — the nurses will be in soon, to take your morning vitals and yell at me.”
My eyebrows lift. “Why would they yell?”
“This is the ICU — visitors aren’t supposed to spend the night. Or bring flowers.” He grins. “I was persuasive.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”
He has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “The large contribution my family makes every year at the MGH fundraiser may’ve helped matters.”
“I’ll bet.” My voice is dry. “Wait, I’m at Mass General?”
“Yeah. You were in rough shape. They air-lifted you here.” His face goes dark. “Scariest thirty minutes of my life.”
“Well, that justsucks!”
His eyebrows go up. “Excuse me?”
“The first time I ever ride in a helicopter, and I’m unconscious the whole freaking time.” I huff. “Just my luck.”
He grins and shakes his head at me.
“I’m serious!” I protest.
“As soon as you’re better, I’ll take you on the company helicopter.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He kisses me then — just a light brush of his lips over mine, and the tenderness of it steals my breath.
“You should sleep,” he says, pulling back slightly, his eyes moving over my features like he’s trying to memorize them. “You need to heal.”
“I’m fine,” I murmur, but I can hear the drowsiness in my own voice.
“Shh.”
My eyelids slip closed, despite my best efforts. “Chase?”
“Yeah, sunshine?”
“Are you staying?”
He pauses a beat. “Always.”
I let the beauty of that single word sink into my bones.
“Then, why are you still on the chair?”
I hear him chuckle seconds before his arms slide around my frame as he climbs into bed with me.
“This is definitely going to get me in trouble with the nurses,” he whispers against my hair.
“Tell them I coerced you. That you’re powerless to resist me.”
I feel his lips twitch against my temple. “That, Gemma Iphigenia Summers, is the truth.”
My eyes snap open and a horrified gasp erupts from my mouth at the sound of my middle name.