Page 121 of Relationship Goals

“They wouldn’t let me in with you unless I was family. Said it was protocol. I said we didn’t go public with the marriage so the paparazzi wouldn’t have a field day with it.”

It shouldn’t hurt so much. The fact he didn’t want me to be alone, even though this would be an easy out for him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, blinking back tears. My headthumps against the lump of a pillow behind it, and I count the squares on the ceiling.

“You gave me the idea,” he says, holding my good hand, his thumb making tiny circles.

“How in the world did I give you the idea?” I snort, unable to keep from looking at his face.

He raises one of those gloriously thick eyebrows at me. “The first time we had seafood together, you threatened anaphylactic shock and a hospital visit as a married couple. I thought I’d make your dreams come true.”

I laugh in spite of myself, and then it abruptly stops.

He leans close, some of the worry relaxing from the corner of his eyes, his lips ghosting over my ear. “I think maybe our safe word should belobster, though.”

Bossy, grunting Luke is already hard for me to resist. Teasing Luke is practically impossible to.

This man would be a lot easier to hate if I didn’t like him so damned much.

It would hurt a lot less, too.

“I want to go home,” I say, then turn on my side away from him, watching the IV drip down the line.

Chapter Thirty-four

Luke

“A lobsterpinchedher?” Gold asks incredulously.

A ball sails past him into the net, and he doesn’t even blink.

“Yeah. Eight stitches. Could have been worse. But when she fainted…” I shake my head. “It scared the shit out of me.”

“How the hell did a lobster do that? Why was she evenarounda lobster?” He tilts his head, frowning. “Is this some kind of a kink thing?”

I snort, grinning as I remember the way Abigail’s eyes lit up in humor when I suggestedlobsteras a safe word at the hospital. “No. We were—you know what? I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Gold gives me a long look, tossing his longish hair over a shoulder before tying it up on top of his head.

“I drunk-dialed Michelle in Vegas,” he says slowly.

I grunt, stretching out my quad. “And?”

“And she called me back.” He clears his throat. “The same night.”

“Was it good? A good talk?” I clarify. Goddammit, when did I get invested in Gold’s love life?

It’s like being with Abigail has helped me remember how to be a friend, how to hold a conversation with someone.

She reminded me how to care.

My chest seems to expand, and I catch myself smiling at absolutely nothing, just the mere thought of her.

“I don’t remember.” He stretches his arms long overhead, then jogs in place. “I think I’m done drinking.”

“I don’t blame you,” I tell him.

“What if I said something embarrassing?” he cringes at the thought.