Page 12

ELEVEN

Mabel

“So?” I ask Dillon.

She groans. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah! You slept with Jensen! In the hospital?” I ask with a smirk.

“I just… I don’t know,” she groans. “It just happened.”

“Well, he had easy access with that hospital gown.”

“Mabel!” she shouts, blushing.

I laugh. “Was it good?”

“Yeah,” she mumbles.

“How good?”

“Well, I have nothing to compare it to, so…”

“So, it was really good. Should I tell Jensen he was the best you’ve ever had?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Are you two together now?”

“No.”

“Why not? The guy worships you.”

“I can’t get over the fact that he didn’t give me a choice. With my mom’s boyfriends, I…” She trails off, but she doesn’t need to go on.

I know what she’s talking about. A few of her mom’s boyfriends tried to sneak into her room. She was so worried about them. Sex and consent became so important for her. It was something she stressed over because she had to.

Jensen might have bitten her to save her life, but he didn’t have her consent. It’s an impossible situation, so I hold my tongue.

“I support whatever you decide. I just… Maybe you should look at your medical report once we leave here. It might shed some light on why he did it.”

“Maybe,” she agrees. “Now, tell me about you and your man.”

“Last night was perfect,” I sigh. “He’s perfect. He makes me feel so seen and cared for. He carries me around like I weigh nothing.”

She smiles at that, and I sigh happily.

“I never thought that I would have this,” I admit.

“You deserve it.”

“So do you,” I tell her.

“All right, we finally have the papers ready. Sorry about the delay,” the nurse says as she bustles into the room.

I move out of her way, and Dillon signs the discharge papers.

“Okay, you’re all set. Here’s a copy of the instructions for your injuries. If you feel lightheaded, dizzy, or experience intense pain in your torso, come back immediately,” the nurse instructs.

“I will. Thanks.”

“Have a good day, sweetheart.” The nurse smiles at us before she heads out to grab the wheelchair.

I grab the change of clothes I brought and pass them to Dillon. She goes into the bathroom to change, and I gather her things in my backpack.

“All set?” I ask when she comes out.

She nods, and the nurse helps her into the wheelchair.

“I can walk,” Dillon insists.

“Hospital policy until we get you outside, dear,” the nurse tells her.

She grumbles but stays sitting until we reach the front doors.

“Take care,” the nurse says before heading back inside with the wheelchair.

“Did you drive?” Dillon asks.

“No. I haven’t been able to get back in a car since the accident,” I admit.

She wraps her arm around me. “I doubt I could right now either.”

“Miles’s townhouse is just down that way. Or did you want to go somewhere else?”

“I don’t want to cramp your guys’ place.”

“No, there’s room,” I promise. “Come on.”

We walk slowly and make it halfway to the townhouse when a black SUV skids to a stop next to us. The passenger door flies open, and Jensen frowns as he rushes to Dillon’s side.

“Told you to wait,” he scolds.

“I’m fine,” she says, brushing him off.

“Here.” Miles holds out the house keys for me. “I’ll go park.”

I smile and take the keys. “Dillon can stay with us, right?”

He nods, shooting Jensen a worried look. “Yeah, of course.”

“What? No. She can stay with me,” Jensen argues.

“I’d rather be with my friend.”

Jensen looks crushed. I look at Dillon, but she ignores him.

“Mate—”

“No!”

Jensen backs off.

I take her arm. “Come on. Let’s get you settled.”

We head up the front steps, and I unlock the door, letting Dillon in ahead of me. Jensen is right on her heels. I turn to see Miles parking and climbing out of the car.

“They’re both here,” I inform him.

He laughs. “I have a feeling we’ll have to kick him out later.”

“Good luck with that,” I whisper when I see Jensen’s determined expression.

“Um, guest rooms are upstairs,” I tell Dillon.

She nods and moves to the stairs. Jensen is her shadow, trailing after her. Miles and I share a look before following them up.

“Which room did you want her in?” I ask him.

“Um, whichever she wants. There’s not much in the guest room,” he warns me.

We head to the third floor, and Dillon enters the first room.

“This one is fine,” she says.

“We can get whatever you want for the room—” Miles starts

Jensen growls. “I have rooms next door.”

Dillon raises an eyebrow. “Good for you.”

“You can stay with me. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m good here.”

Jensen sighs and nods. “I’ll be next door.”

“At your place?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “In that room.”

He points to the guest room next door, and I swallow a laugh.

“Oh, cool, they’re both staying,” Miles grumbles, and this time, I do laugh.

“Well, make yourselves at home. Do you need anything?” I ask Dillon.

She shakes her head. “Just a shower.”

“I’ll get you a towel,” Miles says.

I follow my man down to the second floor and into our room.

“So, is this the new plan?” he asks, laughing.

“I guess. Dillon and I can find our own place.”

“No need. This is your home now. Your friend can stay as long as she wants.”

“And your friend?”

“I’ll kick him out if he makes you or Dillon uncomfortable,” he promises.

“I don’t want to make you choose between Jensen and me. I know how important he is to you.”

“You’re more important. You’re my family, my everything. And since Dillon is your family, that means she’s mine, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Mabel. Anything.”

“There’s something I have to tell you,” I say, stepping toward him.

“Are you okay? Your head?”

I smile. “It’s fine. It’s not about my head. It’s about my heart.”

His eyes drop to my chest.

“I love you, Miles. My mate.”

“Fuck, Mabel. I love you, too. So much. More than anything. More than I even thought was possible.”

I smile, and he leans down, pressing his lips to mine.

The world fades.

His mouth is warm and familiar, but this kiss—it’s something new. Something deeper. Something that wraps around my heart and squeezes until I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. He cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my skin like he’s memorizing my shape all over again.

I slide my hands up his chest, gripping his shirt, needing to anchor myself to him as he kisses me like I’m the only thing that matters. Like this moment is everything.

He groans softly, the sound vibrating against my lips, and I melt into him, opening for him as his tongue sweeps against mine—slow and sure and claiming.

It’s not frantic. It’s not rushed.

It’s reverent.

Like he’s worshipping me with every brush of his lips, every breath between us.

When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, heart pounding, eyes locked on his like he’s gravity and I’m still falling.

And maybe I am.

Maybe I’ll always be falling for him.

“Now we just need our friends to figure out their shit,” he murmurs.

I laugh. “Yeah. They might need some help with that.”

“Maybe a little,” I agree as we return to the third floor.

“It’ll work out,” he promises.

I have a feeling it will, too. This is the new plan. But I’m not about to tell Dillon that. I just hope she agrees to it, too.