Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I groan and flop my forehead against Knight’s chest. “Do you think if I close my eyes, she might disappear?”
“No, but I think if you don’t open that door soon, she’s going to find a screwdriver and literally take the door right off the frame.”
“Shit,” I say with a sigh, pulling away from him. “I guess it’s showtime. But just saying, if that bitch doesn’t discharge me, we’re gonna have some words.”
22
KNIGHT
Bed rest and Harper are not exactly compatible anymore, and after having her home for the past week and a half, she’s already run out of things to do. So she does me instead, but you won’t catch me complaining about it.
After a little less than forty-eight hours of observation in the hospital, Harper was discharged, and the moment she was home, she started working on healing, desperate to reduce the bruises and swelling that marked her skin. I could tell by her expression every time she looked in the mirror that she was picturing Elias’s fists coming toward her face and remembering the feel of her head smashing against the bathroom tiles.
She put herself on an icing schedule: on for ten minutes, off for ten minutes, and then switch positions, all while begging Dr. McKullan to allow her to type up reports from home. Apparently, Harper’s idea of bed rest doesn’t exactly line up with the rest of the population’s, and after bugging Dr. McKullan relentlessly, he had no choice but to cave. He sends her two reports per day, but she smashes through those in less than an hour each.
Every day for the past week and a half has been the same. Ice. Water. Reports. Fucking. Repeat. It’s been great, but come Monday morning, she’ll be heading back to work day shift. At least she’ll be able to face her colleagues without the bruises or swelling weighing her down.
I’m proud of her, and despite how she may or may not be driving me crazy at home, it’s a good kind of crazy. Nobody could ever convince me that having Harper move in with me wasn’t the best step I have ever taken in life. She’s my whole fucking world.
Getting to wake up each morning with her in my arms is the epitome of life. My whole world could crumble, but as long as I get to hold her, nothing else matters.
It’s late on Wednesday afternoon, and I don’t know how my afternoon workout session with Ace and Diesel in my home gym turned into a party. One minute the boys and I were fucking around with the weights; the next we had Izzy, Laith, and Harper holding up score cards every time one of us lifted a single weight.
Well, to be fair to Laith, only the girls were holding up score cards. He was just chilling for the sake of chilling. I asked if he wanted to join, but he didn’t seem into it. Either that or working out with me, Ace, and Diesel wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. The three of us can be a little intimidating, especially in a gym where we thrive off competition. I don’t blame him for passing.
“I reckon I could do that,” Harper mutters from her spot across the gym, her gaze locked on me as I pull myself up over the pull-up bar. And shit, I’ve got to be honest, I thought she was watching closely because she can’t get enough of me, not because she was thinking that this shit would be easy for a beginner.
“There’s no way in hell you can do that,” Laith mutters.
“Bullshit,” Harper says, flexing her biceps. “Have you seen these bad boys? I’m practically a machine.”
Izzy drops down beside her, sipping a glass of wine as she hands Harper a fresh ice pack to hold against her face. “Your body is one hundred percent nachos at this point,” she scoffs, her gaze swinging toward Ace and Diesel, flicking between the two of them as though she can’t make up her mind. “Stop trying to fool yourself, but if you think you can do it, be my guest. Go right ahead and show us how strong you are.”
I stop what I’m doing and drop to my feet as Harper’s brow arches. Her gaze shifts to me, and when a cocky smirk stretches across her lips, I roll my eyes, realizing she’s fallen for the bait. She’s going to try, and I can guarantee that it won’t be pretty.
A smirk plays on my lips as she gets to her feet, and she strides over to me, glancing up at the bar above her head and realizing that she can’t even jump high enough to catch it. “Hmmm,” she murmurs, her brows furrowed as she tries to work out the logistics of how this is going to work.