Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Last night I would have given anything to get out of this hospital.
Now I would toss myself out of this bed face first and risk a broken nose just to stay.
The hospital room door closed behind the doctor.
There was an odd, muted silence in the room. As if the tension between us had even blocked out the usual sound of shuffling feet, machines beeping, and intercom announcements from the hall.
Var kissed the top of my head as he leaned over me. “Time to get you out of here, baby.”
I remained curled up in bed, holding the blanket around me like a very flimsy shield as I listened to the swish and whoosh sounds of him pulling on his jeans and tossing his shirt on.
As he sat to put his boots back on, he looked me over. “Vivian?”
I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, um. You can go. I’ll be fine.”
He raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “Nice try. Get out of that bed.”
My fingers dug into the soft weave of the blanket. “They had to cut off my clothes when I came into the ER. So I’ll just get ahold of Michelle and ask her to grab some from my apartment. It will probably take a while, so—”
“Yeah, I feel your pain. I was heartbroken when I heard they had to trash your ex-boyfriend’s shirt.”
Had he encouraged the doctors to trash my clothes because the shirt belonged to my ex-asshole?
An image of Var standing over my gurney as he growled at the doctors to use their scalpels to shred my shirt flashed across my mind. No, that was bonkers. Even for Var. Still, I wouldn’t exactly put it past the man.
Var then pulled a plastic bag out from under the chair he was sitting on. Crossing to the bed, he tossed it on my lap. “Already handled.”
Inside was a gray I heart Chicago hoodie with matching sweatpants and a pair of black flip-flops with a puff of rainbow dyed feathers.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about the shoes. It was the best thing I saw last night.”
I frowned. “Last night? The gift shop was open that late?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Who said anything about it being open?”
My mouth dropped. “You broke into a hospital gift shop.”
He shrugged. “I knew I wanted to get you out of here the moment those test results came in, and you’d need clothes, and unfortunately your favorite, Bloomingdale’s, was not an option at that hour.”
At the mention of Bloomingdale’s, my cheeks heated. There was little chance he’d missed the two massive and, strictly speaking, stolen Louis Vuitton trunks in my apartment hallway. “About Bloomingdale’s... and your luggage…”
Var placed his hand under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. “Baby, I could give two fucks if you treat that place like your own personal goddamn church and worship there every day. If that is what makes you happy, then have at it. It’s only money.”
Only men with insane amounts of money say things like ‘it’s only money.’
“Getting carte blanche to an expense account at Bloomie’s is not a freaking reason to marry someone,” I fired back with narrowed eyes.
I mean, it was a damn good reason to seriously consider a marriage proposal. The struggle was real with my designer purse and shoe addiction… so maybe… no, it definitely was not a reason.
Or at the very least, shouldn’t be one.
As if he’d read my mind, he winked, “We both know that’s not entirely true.”
Still clinging to the hope I could stall him, I said, “You can’t expect me to actually wear these things in public?”
He pulled the plastic bag filled with gray fabric out of my grasp. “Absolutely not.”
The flood of relief that washed over me was short lived… very short lived.
“You can just leave naked, but either way, your pretty ass is in my car in the next fifteen minutes.”
With a cry, I snatched the bag back and ran into the bathroom, dragging the blanket behind me.
As I pulled the oversized hoodie over my head, I called through the door, “We’re not getting out of here in fifteen minutes. There is probably a ton of paperwork I need to fill out. Plus, I need to give them my health insurance information, which is in my wallet, in my purse at home, so really, it’s going to be a whole thing. You should just leave, and I’ll call you later.”
The door swung open.
With a cry, I hopped on one foot and shifted my hips so he wouldn’t have a full view of my ass with me bent over.
“What the hell!” I yelled as I pulled the sweatpants over my hips. “Knock much?”
He gestured with his head. “Stop trying to stall. Let’s go.”
Slipping my feet into the outrageous flip-flops, I shuffled after him. “I’m not stalling. These common man issues might not touch you Russian Mafia gods, but it’s not like the hospital is going to let me waltz out the front door without any kind of insurance or payment.”