Page 137 of That Girl
“I look like Quasimodo, don’t I?”
He kisses me again, firmer this time. “You look like my gorgeous fiancé.”
“Pardon?”
He puts his hands to his chest in mock shock. “You don’t remember? Should I be devastated that you’ve forgotten so quickly?”
“Jackson, what are you going on about?”
“You talk in your sleep.”
That’s what Knox said to me the day in the library during Butch’s birthday party. “So I’ve been told.”
“Let me remind you then. You said we were getting married. I agreed. In fact, I said that was the best idea ever in the history of great ideas. You said you wanted to adopt Connor. I think that’s a great idea too. Connor already said yes and wants to know if he can call you Mom.”
From the rapid beeping of my heart rate monitor, it sounds like my heart is about to explode from the happiness I’m feeling right now.
“You also said you could fly and shoot laser beams from your eyes, but I’ll blame those on the drugs. The rest I’m taking at true value.”
I peer down at my left hand. “If we’re engaged, where’s my ring?”
JD gives me a cocky wink. “I haven’t proposed yet. I was going to just slide a ring on your finger while you were out cold and let you figure it out, but Dustin practically threatened to kill me if I did that.”
“Think the nurses would mind if you crawled in this bed with me?”
JD looks at me like I’m crazy. “Aurora, I don’t think that tiny bed could fit me by myself. I’m kind of a big guy.”
“Yes, you are,” I purr. Whatever stuff they are pumping into me seems to lower my inhibitions as well as my pain level.
“Aurora, dammit. Only you can make me harder than a steel pipe in the middle of a hospital room.”
“We can play nurse and patient. I’m the patient, of course. Want to give me a sponge bath?”
He barks out a loud laugh that fills me with all kinds of tingles. It’s good to know that certain parts of me are in working order. Which reminds me—
“JD, how bad?” I look down at my cast-covered arm.
He sits back down and takes my left hand in his while brushing my knotted hair from my face with his right hand. “Pretty bad.”
“Tell me. Tell me everything.”
“You have a concussion, bruised ribs, compound fracture of your forearm, phalanx and metacarpal fractures in several fingers, a broken nose, a bone bruise on your hip, contusions and cuts everywhere, and…”
“Burns,” I finish for him, remembering how Ricky burned my arm and chest with his cigarette about a dozen times before I passed out. Oh, God. JD’s mother was there with Ricky. “JD, your mom—”
He kisses me. “Shhh. I know, Aurora. She’ll never hurt you again.”
I search his eyes. “But Ricky and your mom.”
He cuts me off again with another soft kiss. “Baby, I know. They’ve been dealt with. They’ll never hurt you again.”
“How? What happened?”
“Fallon said not to ask questions.”
I know what Fallon is capable of and the lengths he’ll go to in order to protect those he loves.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
