The fluorescent lights in the waiting room of the emergency room flicker slightly, casting a harsh glow over everything. I glance at the clock on the wall, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my hand. Declan sits beside me. His knee bounces slightly, a clear sign of his pent-up energy or maybe concern—probably both. I want to reach over and calm him, but my hand is currently occupied with the ice pack he insisted on getting for me.

I can't help but replay the night over and over in my head, from the pool game that spiraled out of control to the almost-moment with Declan. Almost. God, I was so ready for it, too. His hands on me, the way his mouth claimed mine—it was everything I didn't know I was craving until it was happening. And then this damn hand had to go and ruin it.

I curse silently, glaring at the swollen mess beneath the ice pack. If it weren't for this stupid injury, I'd be back at my apartment, and Declan and I... Well, we'd probably be tangled up in each other, his voice low in my ear, his hands mapping out every inch of my body. But no, instead, I'm here, waiting to find out if I've broken my hand because I couldn't resist punching that asshole.

Not that I regret it. He had it coming. But damn, the timing couldn't be worse.

My thoughts drift back to Declan, sitting here with me. He's been so attentive, more than I expected. The way he's constantly checking in, making sure I'm okay, grabbing the ice pack without me even asking—it's throwing me off balance. I've never had someone be this... caring, not in this way. I'm used to taking care of myself, of handling things on my own. But Declan, he's making it hard not to lean on him, even just a little.

"Valarie Jade," a nurse calls out, and I glance up, realizing it's finally my turn to go back.

Declan starts to rise from his chair, but hesitates. "I can wait here if you want."

I don't even think before I reply, "No, come with me." The words come out faster than I intend, and when I catch the surprise on his face, I realize how much I want him there with me. "If you don't mind," I add, softer this time.

A goofy smile tugs at his lips, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Of course I don't mind."

We follow the nurse down the hallway, the familiar antiseptic smell of the hospital filling my senses. It's strange being on this side of things, not the one in scrubs but the one sitting on the exam table, waiting for answers. The nurse, Jen, flashes me a sympathetic smile when we reach the room.

"Hey, Val," she says, her tone friendly and casual. "Rough night?"

I manage a half-smile, shifting on the bed to get comfortable. "You could say that. I think I might have messed up my hand."

Jen glances at the ice pack, her brow furrowing. "Let's have a look." She gently takes my hand, unwrapping the ice pack to examine it. Her fingers are careful, but I still wince as she prods at the swollen area. "Yikes, that looks nasty. I'm worried it might be broken. I'm going to send you back for some x-rays, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," I reply, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.

She gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading out to arrange the x-rays. I look over at Declan, who's taken a seat in the chair beside the bed.

"Thanks for coming back with me," I say, my voice softer than before.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You don't have to thank me, Val. I'm just glad you're letting me be here."

It's a simple statement, but it carries so much weight. I nod, unsure of what to say, because I am glad he's here. More than I want to admit, even to myself.

A few minutes later, I'm wheeled back for the x-ray. The process is quick, familiar, and before I know it, I'm back in the room with Declan, who's now asleep in the chair. His head is tilted to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. I can't help but smile at the sight. He must be exhausted. He just got off a long shift, and instead of heading home, he's here, sitting with me in a hospital room.

I lie back on the bed, careful of my hand, and let my eyes drift shut. The events of the night swirl in my mind, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving me bone-tired. My hand throbs in time with my heartbeat, a constant reminder of what happened. But as I lie there, I feel a strange sense of peace. Declan is here, and somehow that makes everything a little bit easier to handle.

I don't know when I fall asleep, but the next thing I know, Jen is gently shaking me awake. I blink, disoriented, and glance over to see Declan jerk awake in his chair, looking around blearily.

"Sorry to wake you both," Jen says with a smile. "The doctor is looking at the x-rays now. He'll be in to talk to you in just a minute."

I nod, sitting up slowly. Declan rubs a hand over his face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. He looks at me, concern still etched in his features.

"This isn't exactly how I thought the night would end," I admit, my voice tinged with disappointment and a little humor.

He chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, me neither." He glances at me, and there it is again—that heated gaze from earlier, the one that makes my breath catch in my throat.

But before I can get lost in that look, the door swings open, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes when I see who walks in. Of course, it's Adrian.

"Valarie," he greets me, his tone professional but with that edge of cool detachment that's so typically him. He's holding the x-rays, his expression unreadable as usual.

"Adrian," I reply, trying to keep my voice neutral.

He doesn't waste time with small talk, moving straight to the light box and snapping the x-ray up so I can see it. "It's not broken," he says, pointing to the image. "But there is a small fracture here, near the base of your hand. It should heal on its own, but you'll need to keep it immobilized. A sling or a brace should do the trick. And don't strain it. No heavy lifting, no using it to punch any more people, alright?"

There's a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth, a rare hint of humor from him, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared.

I'm momentarily caught off guard. Adrian smiled? I must still be asleep, because this has to be a dream. "Thanks, Adrian. I'll take care of it."

He looks at me for a moment, his gaze flicking briefly to Declan before settling back on me. "Make sure you do. And if the pain gets worse, come back in. We'll keep an eye on it."

Declan finally speaks up, his tone polite but firm. "Thanks for taking care of her."

Adrian gives him a curt nod, his professional mask firmly in place. "It's my job."

With that, he turns and walks out, leaving the room in a heavy silence.

Declan watches me closely, his expression softening as our eyes meet. "You ready to get out of here?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"More than ready," I reply with a small smile.

The drive back to my apartment is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The exhaustion is starting to hit me hard, the adrenaline completely worn off now. My hand aches, a dull throb that pulses with every beat of my heart. I glance over at Declan, noticing the tired lines etched into his face. He must be running on fumes by now, but he doesn't complain, doesn't show any sign of wanting to be anywhere but here, with me.

When we pull up to my building, he puts the car in park and turns to me, his gaze searching. There's a moment where I almost invite him up again, almost let the events of earlier resume. But something holds me back. Maybe it's the fatigue, or the lingering pain in my hand, or maybe it's just the realization that tonight has taken enough out of both of us.

"Thanks for everything, Declan," I say softly, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I really appreciate it."

He nods, but there's a hint of disappointment in his eyes that makes my heart twist. "Anytime, Val. You know that."

I give him a small smile, then reach for the door handle. As I step out, I hesitate, turning back to look at him one more time. I lean into the car and kiss him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Declan."

"Goodnight, Val," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

I close the door and head inside, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Relief that the night is finally over, frustration that it didn't end the way I wanted it to, and something else—something that feels a lot like regret.

When I reach my apartment, I don't bother turning on the lights. I just head straight for my bedroom, collapsing onto the bed without even changing out of my clothes. My hand throbs. And as I lie there in the dark, my thoughts start to spiral.

How is this going to affect my work? I use my hands for everything, and now one of them is practically out of commission. What if it doesn't heal properly? What if I'm stuck dealing with this for longer than I want to admit?

But more than that, my thoughts keep circling back to Declan. The way he looked at me tonight, the way he took care of me without a second thought. And that kiss... oh God, that kiss. My whole body tingles just thinking about it, the memory of his lips still lingering on mine.