Page 182 of Falling Offsides

“What the fuck?” Auguste is unraveling himself from me, already moving towards the hospital entrance again where the two security guards are watching us.

“Don’t, Auguste.” With a hard tug of his hoodie, I bring his attention back to me. “He has power of attorney until she’s awake and… I don’t know that she wants me here.”

What if Martin is telling the truth?What if it is my fault she’s hurt?

“How did you know?” I wrap my arms around him as he picks up my backpack and throws it over his shoulder.

“I overheard your dad on the phone to you.”

“And you came… just like that?”

“Yup. Just like that, Princess. Marley set me up with a private jet and a ride waiting for me when I landed. I came straight here.”

Oh.“Thank you.”

“I want to be here. To care for you,” he says leading me to the parking lot.

He bundles me into the passenger seat of a sleek Mercedes. It’snowhere near as warm and welcoming as his Lexus at home. Doesn’t smell like him until he gets in next to me.

Auguste’s hand finds mine, and I lean close, hugging his bicep as he drives away from the hospital. The ride is a blur with my quiet sobs and the sound of the indicator. He doesn’t tell me to stop crying. He doesn’t tell me to be strong. He allows me to fall apart.

At the hotel, Auguste moves fast. After he’s grabbed our bags, he allows the valet to take the car so he can check us in as quickly as possible and get us to his room.

A spacious suite, smelling faintly of bergamot and polished wood.

He doesn’t turn on the lights. Simply takes off my cardigan with short, sweet kisses to my temple.

When he’s done, Auguste cups my face in both hands.

“We’re going to fix this. We’ll find a way to get you in to see your mom. But first, you need to rest.”

I can only nod because I’m overwhelmed on so many levels. At this point my brain isn’t braining anymore. It’s all motions as Auguste draws me a bath and goes about undressing me.

When I’m in the warm water he disappears for a few minutes and when he returns, he kneels behind me and washes my hair. Each action is done with slow, deliberate care, like he was made to take care of me. As if that’s his only purpose in life.

Auguste is getting me out of the bath and into his clean t-shirt when the concierge knocks on the door.

When they leave, Auguste wheels the food cart over to my side of the bed.

“I got you some chamomile tea and some toast to line your stomach.”

“Thank you.”

“If you want something more, I’ll order it for you. Anything you want.” He empties out a pharmacy bag and pops a couple of ZzzQuil capsules into my palm. “Just to help you sleep. You were restless last night and after today… you need to just sleep, Court.”

With a nod, I take the liquid capsules and swallow them down with a sip of the hot tea while Auguste settles next to me on the bed, my plate of toast in his hand. After a few bites, I give up and we curl into each other.

Auguste’s arm wraps around me. My head finds its place on his chest, just above the steady, strong thud of a heart that keeps choosing me.

And I realize, as sleep slowly pulls me under, this man will always show up for me. And I won’t ever be able to un-love him for it.

THIRTY-SIX

AUGUSTE

Courtney’s curledup in my t-shirt, tucked beneath the blankets like the world outside this bed doesn’t exist. Her lashes are fanned across skin that’s lost too much color. One hand clutches the edge of the duvet like it’s her only tether.

It’s 2:47 a.m. and I’m wide awake.