Page 62 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“Hi,” said Ellery. “I’m Ellery.”

Nik turned back. “What the hell? You brought a random? To my hospital?”

She tucked her hands into her hoodie pockets. “He didn’t bring me. I tagged along. My home life is so busted that between spending Christmas with my family or travelling halfway across the world to meet a grumpy strangerusing a wheelchair, you were my best option.”

There was a long silence.

“Okay.” Nik let out a long, rough breath. “So I do actually feel sorry for you right now.”

Ellery smirked. “Last brownie for me.”

“Can we,” I asked, possibly ill-advisedly, “go sit down somewhere? Because I really do want to hug you, Nik. I mean, if you want to be hugged.”

“Café? It’s depressingly nutritional.”

“I thought you’d be into that.”

“I was…I guess I am, but I keep wondering what’s the point.”

“What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Oh, just. I went to a lot of trouble to take care of this body. I ate healthily. Went to the gym every day. And it still betrayed me.”

“I think the fact you got hit by a car and are still alive is evidence of your body coming through for you. Not the opposite.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well.” That was Ellery. “I’m going to bounce.”

Nik’s fingers twitched guiltily in his lap. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an unwelcoming dick. Arden’s told me a lot about you, so it’s good to finally meet up.”

“Thanks, but I’m still leaving. You two need time to catch up.” She scuffed her boot against the pristine floor. “I can come back another day.”

“I’d like that. I’ll try to be nicer.”

“Don’t bother. Nice is bullshit.” And with that, she stomped off, pulling up her hood against the Boston chill.

Nik and I went to the café—and it was actually pretty nice considering it was a café in a hospital. It still had that diligently clean and functional air, but the windows running all down one side kept it light and airy, with the outside world just a finger’s brush away. I had one of their whole wheat pasta salad things and Nik had a coffee, which I didn’t offer to carry and he didn’t ask me to help with.

The tables had been carefully laid out—lots of space and the furniture itself was light, so I could easily drag my chair up next to Nik. And from that position, I was able to turn my body into his, and get my promised hug. Despite our conversation in the lobby, he squeezed me really tight.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

I snuffled into the side of his neck. He smelled just like he always did: soap and the freshness of summer days. “Please don’t worry about it. I’d rather know when I’m doing something annoying.”

“Everything annoys me.” He disentangled us, but gently. “It takes all I have not to lash out on the people trying to help me.”

I gazed at him, biting my lip. “Is it…really hard?”

“Not being an ungrateful git?”

“The whole…rehab thing.”

“Yeah, Arden.” I guess I deserved the look he was giving me. “It’s really hard. It’s boring and frustrating and exhausting.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I guess I took it as read you didn’t think I was eating fairy cakes and making balloon animals over here.”