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“All of that just means you’re feeling better.” There’s no masking the worry that flickers on her face. It’s been there eversince I woke up. If the bullet didn’t kill me, seeing Lav upset almost did. I wanted to make that anguish go away, but at first all I could do was fight to stay alive. Now that I’m better, she can’t seem to let that worry go.

I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands and not only prove to my girl that I’m okay, but get some godforsaken relief.

“So I was thinking,” I say casually, rubbing my thumb over her flesh, “maybe I could go to the Fury this week. Just go. Not participate or anything. No booze,” I promise, my eyes meeting Lavinia’s. “I’ll sit up in the box and be a good boy.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she says immediately. “Maybe next week?”

“That’s what you said last week,” I argue.

“Back me up here.” She looks over at the guys for support. “It’s too soon, right? Especially for something unpredictable like the Fury.”

Look. I get it. There are too many people. Too many unknown factors. The crowds get rowdy and the frat boys are often on edge, especially if their guy loses. And me… well, I’m not exactly known for my self-control.

“She’s right,” Sy says, giving me an apologetic half-smile.

“You’ve only just started making progress,” she adds. “Getting out of bed without help. Going to the bathroom alone…”

Remy, who has been quiet other than tapping his marker against the arm of the chair, studies me for a long moment before saying, “Tell me something, Nicky…”

“Okay.” It’s impossible to know what Remy is thinking.

His eyebrow lifts. “Can you fuck?”

“What do you think I’m doing in the bathroom alone?” I snort, pumping my fist up and down. “I got shot in the neck. Everything down below is in top-notch working order.” I reach for the elastic of my pants. “Want to see?”

“Maybe later,” Remy says, pointing the marker between me and Lav. “But I think that if you can fuck Vinny you should be able to go to the fight.”

Lav swings her head toward him. “What? That is not an appropriate test!”

“Why not?” I ask, taking her hand in mine and placing it over my very hard erection. “I’ve been trying to get you to sit on my dick for a week now. You’re the cockblocker.”

“I’m not ‘cockblocking’. I’m being responsible.” She shoots Remy a glare but he just smirks in return. “Lex said no rigorous activity.”

“My rigor or yours?” I ask, getting a vision of her bouncing on my lap that’s so intense I have to adjust myself. “Because those are two different things.” I give Sy a pleading look. “Tell her it’ll be fine.”

Sy leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “It seems like a valid test. But,” he adds, “you have to get through the whole thing without exhibiting any pain or discomfort.”

“Done.” I say it with absolute confidence but a streak of pain runs down my arm.

“This is ridiculous,” Lav argues, but I tilt my head and give her an appreciative once-over. Something in her expression flips and yep, my Little Bird is a goner.

The rest of the room must realize it too, because Remy strolls over, pushes her hair back, and kisses her. His tattooed hand lifts to her tit, and he tweaks her nipple, making it tighten into a hard point. When he withdraws his tongue from her mouth he asks, “You need any help getting ready for Nicky or are you still wet from before?”

“Sorry, bud,” Sy interjects, “but Nick’s going to have to do the work on his own–following the parameters.”

“Fine, but we get to watch, right?” he asks hopefully. “You know, for safety reasons.”

Sy raises his eyebrow at me in question. Can they stay? Sure. Do I care if they watch me and LB fuck? Absolutely not. But I’m feeling vulnerable as fuck right now and my brother doesn’t need me to say it.

“Come on, Rem,” Sy pushes off the counter, “let’s give these two some space. I told Kaz we’d go over that new order with him.”

Remy scowls, clearly not happy about that decision, but he stands, leans over Lav and gives her a hard kiss. “Fuck him good, okay?”

Once we’re alone, I exhale and reach for Lav. Normally, I would have picked her up and set her right on my dick, but I’ll fail the no-pain-test right away if I do that. Instead, I encourage her to come to me. “Come here, Little Bird.”

She stands and faces me, and I reach for the hem of her skirt, fingers curling underneath. Fuck, even that sent a twinge down my arm. She waits for me to drag her closer, to take the lead, but I’m frozen, gathering the fabric in my fist and holding tight.

Look. Nick Bruin is hard. He lives hard. Plays hard. Fights hard. And hefuckshard.