Page 11 of Rule 5: Never Crush on the Captain

I gesture to Vinnie once I’m sure she’s out, and he puts the book down. I kiss Stella’s forehead, because I so can’t resist, then we sneak out of the room.

I close the door, then turn to him. “Tell me what the fuck’s going on.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Vinnie

I’m not prepared for angry, wobbly Evan. I swallow away the sudden fear that I was wrong to come here, that I’m only making things worse.

“I want to help you,” I say, because that much at least is true.

Evan’s long lashes flutter down. “I’m sorry. Maybe I overreacted.”

I nudge his shoulder. “Bet you didn’t expect to see me.”

He gives a hoarse laugh. “No.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. Maybe I was avoiding you.”

He opens his mouth.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I add hastily. “And I do want to help. But tomorrow, if you want, you can find a full-time nurse. I’m happy to stay as long as you need me though.”

He nods, but the movement is slow, and I’m not sure how much is about his head injury.

He gives a weak smile. “Thanks, Vinnie.”

“You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“I hope so.”

I’m silent. Concussions are serious.

“And if you feel worse, I’ll take you straight to the doctor,” I promise.

“Thanks. I’m sorry I was rude.”

“You’re fine.”

He starts to close his eyes.

“Which one is your bedroom?”

He points at the door at the end of the hallway.

“Let’s go, buddy,” I say in my most cheerful voice.

Evan gives me definite side eye, but his lips twitch, and I’m happy.

I lead him down the hall, striding over the impossibly expensive Persian carpets. We pass dainty antique wooden furniture and large silk curtains that shut out any potential paparazzi. Crystal chandeliers sparkle above, and sconces glow over the elaborate designer wallpaper.

His steps falter, then he wobbles. “Shit.”

I frown, then carefully grab hold of his waist. “Almost there.”

“Yeah.”

I glance at him, and I hate the way his brow is creased, as if it’s difficult for him to avoid collapsing.