I was probably going to wake up any moment.
“Did Stone tell you what we talked about at dinner?”
A flush rode his cheekbones. “I was just getting to that.”
“It’s a great idea.” Dad folded his arms as if he was preparing for me to argue. “Colorado is wonderful this time of year. The aspens are probably getting ready to turn. You’ll be an hour outside Boulder, so there will be medical facilities to aid your recovery. I can even hire a visiting nurse to help—”
“That’s not necessary.” Molly rightly halted that massive intrusion. “Whatever Sebastian needs, I can take care of him.”
“Fine. But I intend to keep an eye on things,” Alastair warned.
“Of course.” Molly nodded.
Dad’s face held regret. “Last time, despite the gag order, things leaked to the media. I never expected the intense media scrutiny, but you’d been in the public eye all your life. I assumed you were used to the media attention. I didn’t understand the pressure you were facing online or the subtle grudges people might keep, even after all these years.”
“So the plan going forward is you get stronger,” Molly said. “That means both physically and emotionally. You’ll need to see a therapist as often and as long as necessary.”
I nodded. “Noted.”
“Molly will be your eyes and ears online,” Dad said. “While I sort out where this new video came from and if there are more.”
“All right.” I wished I could lay my hand on Morrigan’s soft fur, but even moving my arms a little brought real pain.
“Are you thirsty?” Stone asked. “You want your juice? You should eat because if you’re having surgery tomorrow you won’t be allowed food later.”
“Yes, please.” I wanted to see if he’d feed me again.
He unwrapped the straw like a pro and jabbed it into the juice box. I sipped when he held it to my lips. “Good?”
I nodded.
“So, er—” Dad cleared his throat. I thought maybe he’d muffled a laugh. “The nurse will be by anytime to kick us out and get you ready for a good night’s sleep. In the morning, they’re going to put you back together again.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Molly said. “You’re going to be just fine.”
I found myself searching Stone’s face. His gaze was warm, his expression worried.
“I’ll bring Morrigan by as soon as they let me.”
I finished my juice, and he swiped his thumb across my lip again, even though I knew I hadn’t spilled. He lifted his gaze from my mouth to my eyes.
“I guess we ought to go and let you get some sleep,” he said almost regretfully.
“Night, Stone.”
He ran his finger lightly over my hand. “Sweet dreams, Sebastian.”
After he left, Molly and Dad spent some time firming up plans. She wanted to book a flight, and he said he’d handle things on his end. I hoped that meant he’d get permission to use the corporate jet.
Molly would make things as easy as possible but going through security and then waiting and boarding—even in first class—would be excruciating.
Pretty pathetic, huh? At the watch shoot, Ian Drake had called me a spoiled rotten little princeling, though fortunately, not anywhere Molly could hear him say it. She could take that arrogant ass, I was sure. Make it look like an accident.
So why had I let him get under my skin? I had people who loved me, like my Dad and Molly and even my mother, who allowed no one to bully me except her.
I had Stone now too.
I didn’t know what he meant by all the nurturing he seemed to be doing, and I wasn’t sure he knew either. From what little he’d shared with me, he was wired differently. Maybe he was ace, or demisexual, and straight. Maybe he couldn’t love me in a romantic way, but whatever the case, he was obviously capable of caring friendships, and loyalty mattered deeply to him.
Friendships mattered deeply to me too.
People I trusted were as rare as urban wolves.
I’d immediately known Stone was trustworthy, and beyond that, I wanted to spend time with him. I liked him.
Perhaps the fates had given me a gift in disguise with that awful video. My stupidity offered me the time to regroup, a reason to get my head on straight, and the opportunity to see what made Stone blush when he spoon-fed me yogurt.
In truth, I hoped I’d never remember that awful night.
But if I did—if I faced what lay behind my drunken accident—maybe I could move beyond it and begin to live again.
Chapter Fifteen
Stone
Sebastian’s surgery went well. Three days later, he got his doctor’s okay to leave the hospital. When Molly wheeled him out the front doors, he wore his slanket and Muppet socks. A flurry of reporters and photographers flung questions and lewd suggestions at us as we walked toward Alastair’s car.
Over a week had passed since I’d left the production, and I was more than ready to go home.
Alastair, being Alastair, hired a car to take us to the airport. I dropped my rental at the agency and let them pick me up there. We all drove to the airport together—Molly, Morrigan, Sebastian, and me.
Sebastian still seemed terribly diminished by his ordeal. On top of that, he’d fallen into a deep funk after surgery, partly due to pain and partly due to the realization that even after the bandages and cast came off, he was going to spend months in physical therapy.
Molly and Morrigan watched him, equally anxious.
I knew intimately how Sebastian felt—a traumatic physical injury dawns on you over time. Grief washes over you and then it recedes like the tide. The initial shock to your body and mind, the surgeries, the pain, the realization that recovery won’t be simple or rapid, and worry over how the event will transform your life in the future come and go. It isn’t as though you resolve each one and then you’re done. I still experienced some or all of those emotions again and again and again.
Sebastian’s sadness would evolve into bravado for a time. Bright bouts of sweetness, then cutting humor, bitter anger, frustration, and uncommunicative blue moods came and went like the hours in the day.
Molly seemed to expect this, but it was hard on her. She wanted the best for him, and when he was at his lowest, she felt like she’d failed him somehow. Morrigan worked overtime, wrapping all of us in love and dog hair.
At the airport, the hired car pulled up to a private jet.
Because of course Alastair would put us on a private jet.
Sebastian stepped from the car and eyed the stairs to the plane like they were Everest. Then two sturdy young men came to take our luggage and stow it aboard. I was grateful because mine would have been hell to check. I had a folding wire dog crate, a duffle bag of Morrigan’s bowls, harnesses, and a wide variety of leads and toys, a backpack with my electronics and dopp kit, and a duffle bag with my clothes. Instead of having to enumerate and check and pay for each thing, I took Morrigan’s bowls and a small container of her food from the bags. They loaded the rest.
The two men even carried an unhappy Sebastian up the private jet’s airstairs in a wheelchair. He muttered the whole way that he hadn’t broken his legs and could very well walk by himself, but he was awfully grateful to sit once we got inside.