Page 47 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

ALISHA

I shift my legs over the edge of the bed and let my feet dangle above the ground as I sit up.

I've rested long enough. The painkillers the nurse gave me done their job, so it’s time for me to get out of here.

I've stared at the colorless walls for two hours, and the predominant scent of disinfectants keeps penetrating my nostrils—it's disgusting.

A long huff leaves my lips as I glimpse at the door in hopes of Cole marching into the room.

He's furious and convinced it was the stalker who attacked me.

The officers we talked to, promised they will go over the surveillance cameras to see if they can discover who the driver of the motorcycle was.

I close my eyes and stretch my neck muscles by tilting my head from side to side.

I was lucky to have jumped away in time.

The only thing I have is a painful right hand and a few marks on my legs caused by crashing onto the concrete.

My eyes fly to the door when a familiar voice states my name.

"Hey, Queenie. If you wish to go on a date, a phone call is enough," Steven jokes as he steps into the examining room of the ER.

I grin. "Hey, I did this to keep you employed."

Steven stops in front of me, and as he plants his palm on my shoulder, he sends me a wink and his bright smile. "Sorry you had to wait so long, but it's been a hectic day."

My awareness heightens as Cole strolls into the small chamber. His orbs shoot daggers at Steven, who peeks at him over his shoulder. Oh boy.

"Oh, you again," Steven says in a dry tone.

I roll my eyes, witnessing his peacock behavior reappearing. In an attempt to break the tension that’s ricocheting between the two men, I ask, "Okay, please tell me you've brought the results."

Steven shifts his attention back to me. "Yep. You’ve got two small fractures in the second and third metacarpal bones."

"Okay, layman's terms, Steven," I mutter.

He nods. "You've broken a bone in the index and the middle finger of your right hand. So it means a cast for two to three weeks."

"Great. Fucking bastard."

“What transpired?" Steven asks, gazing at me with focus.

Cole answers in a stressed tone of voice. "A motorcyclist attempted to run her over in the parking lot. She jumped out of the way but hit the ground hard."

I smile at Steven and shrug. "Nothing to add to that."

The doctor's lips press into a stripe—his narrowing eyes flash to Cole and back to me. "Okay, so before I send you off to get a cast, I prefer to examine you to make sure you're in good health," he says, stroking my shoulder.

"Another doctor already examined her," Cole mentions in a sharp tone.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Steven admits. "But I want to double-check. She's Queenie, and her parents will kill me if I don't take good care of her."

"Dickless rooster," Cole mumbles under his breath. I hold in a chuckle. God, is it wrong that his jealousy is turning me on?

"Thanks, Steven, but I'm fine. The only thing I want is to go home. I've been here long enough."

Steven lets out a huff and nods when I slide off the bed. "Okay, then let me show you to the plaster room. That is the least I can do."

"Don't bother. I'll make sure she gets there. You focus on your other patients."

Steven ignores Cole's words and continues his quest. "So, what about you and me getting that dinner soon? I would love to catch up with you."

The sexy giant shoves himself between Steven and me, and with a fevered stare, he says, "Listen, rooster. Stop the queen shit and find yourself another woman. Alex is with me."

Steven takes a step back and makes eye contact with me. "Is it true? You're with the gorilla?"

I chuckle at his lifted brows. "Yep, sorry, Yep, sorry, this beast of a man is mine."

Steven takes another step back and shakes his head. "Fine. Here is a prescription for painkillers," he says, handing me the note. "Take care, Queenie."

I thank him and walk to the door. But when Cole passes Steven, he whispers something to Cole that makes him halt. I swallow when Walker's nostrils flare, and a muscle in his jaw clenches. Shit.

"Steven. What did you just say to him?"

He shrugs. "Just that I'll be looking forward to taking you out on a date after he messes things up."

I shake my head, but when I glance at Cole's balled fist, I choose to prevent things from exploding. "Come on, Thor. Show me where I need to go."

The entire drive home, Cole stays quiet. When they were applying the cast, I spotted his mind drifting while quietly sitting in the corner, gazing into nothingness. Something is tormenting him, and I will find out what it is.

He parks the car, steps out, and rushes to my side to open the door. I climb out, and when we're alone in the elevator, I touch his tense jaw with my fingertips—he doesn't respond.

I furrow my brow and burst. "Okay, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

I roll my eyes and grab his hand. His orbs skim mine before they land on my cast. His jaw clenching intensifies as various emotions flash over his face. The moment the elevator door opens, he hurries out, but when he's midway down the hall, I stomp my heel on the ground.

"Cole Walker!" I yell. "You haven't spoken a full sentence to me since we left the hospital." I shrug when he faces me. "Did I do something to upset you?"

"What?" His head shoots up, and his eyes pierce mine. "I'm not mad or upset with you. I'm furious at myself, and you should be too."

"Huh, why?" I ask, blinking.

"Jesus Christ, Alex, have you seen yourself?" He points to the white cast and the scratches on my body before roaming his hand through his locks.

"I should have protected you, and I fucking failed.

" He paces through the hall, ruffling his hair.

"I wasn't in time to stop that bastard from hurting you.

Have you any idea what scenarios crossed my mind when I caught him racing towards you?

What if you hadn't jumped away in time? What if he hit you or had a gun and used it, for God’s sake, Alex," he says, tugging on his hair. "You could have been... "

He stops his sentence and walks away, bridging the gap to his front door.

I'm nailed to the floor as he disappears into his penthouse.

My brain activity is through the roof, reciting his words, and when they land, my mouth drops.

As fast as my feet can go, I rush inside the apartment, and after closing the door, I note the

entrance to the balcony is open. I dash outside where a warm breeze brushing along my skin welcomes me while patches of shadow arise as the sun is retreating.

The magnificent beach scene is still intact, waiting for action. My insides flutter as I reminisce about how incredible our date has been so far. I don't want this stupid incident to overshadow our perfect day. I won't let that asshole stain these memories for us.

My heart aches as I witness Cole standing at the baluster— knuckles white from clutching the railing while his head is hanging between his arms.

My tear ducts fill themselves, and as I walk his way, drops of water flow over my cheek. I wrap my arms around his waist, ignoring my cast and placing my head against his back.

How can he blame himself for this? He isn't superman, maybe my personal Thor. But even so, he forgets that what he has done for me so far is incredible.

"Cole, please. This accident isn't your fault. It's the bastard's fault," I hiccup with tears spilling.

He lets go of the baluster and turns. His electric blue orbs penetrate mine as his thumbs remove my tears.

The care in his touch embraces my heart on its deepest level.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart. My goal today was to give you the perfect day.

And it ended up in a disaster. I wasn't in time to stop him from hurting you, and it drives me nuts. I can't bear to lose you. Alex, I..."

Gazing back into his stormy clouds, a profound realization hits me.

"Don't you understand? You gave me the perfect day.

Simply being with you is what it takes to make my day complete.

With you, I'm the old, confident me and not the terrified woman who’s afraid to go out of the house and who jumps up every time someone touches her.

You helped me with that. You pulled me through some hard moments.

" I lift my hand and stroke my fingers over his beard. "I love you."

He lowers his head and places his forehead against mine. The

warm, masculine fragrances—sandalwood and cedar—from his cologne encircle me as the cyclone in his eyes intensifies into a full-on tornado.

"Say that again," he whispers. "I love you, Cole Walker."

With a smile warmer than the sun that shone upon us during our mind-blowing 'tie me to the bed' session hours ago, he whispers back, "I love you, too."

He claims my mouth—hot, fiery, passionate, and demanding. These overwhelming emotions spread through every inch of my body as I give in to them.

Minutes pass before our lips part.

"Your words made it official. You're mine and only mine. All rights reserved."

My heart palpitates at his dominant confession—I love it. Not considering my injury, I lift my arms, and instead of swinging them around his neck, I bang my plastered hand against the side of Cole's face. I curse as spears of pain jolt through me.

He chuckles at the flow of swear words leaving my lips and places a soft kiss on my forehead before picking me up bridal style and setting me on the four-poster bed. He fluffs two red pillows and gestures for me to take a seat against them. Once I'm leaning into them, he removes my shoes.

"Now wait here," he commands, while disappearing into the house. What is he up to?