Chapter 117
I wake up with an overwhelming need to use the washroom badly. My bladder feels like it’s about to combust, and maybe it’s all that water they made me drink before taking my meds.
I must’ve fallen asleep not long after Lilly’s visit. One minute I was awake, staring at the ceiling, and the next, I was out cold. I only woke up briefly for my meals before drifting back into sleep. By then, Mom had already come back, but I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to say much.
Pushing off the blankets, I sit up and take a moment to steady myself, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Am I the only one who hates bothering people? I could easily call a nurse to help me, but the thought makes me cringe. I’d rather wobble my way there than trouble anyone.
Finally, I grab the IV stand and stand slowly. The bathroom isn’t far, but right now it feels like miles away. Step by step, I start toward it until-
“What are you doing?”
I freeze. My heart lurches in my chest as the voice registers slowly, like my brain’s struggling to catch up.
No. It can’t be. 1
As if in slow motion, I turn and there he is. Noah. Sitting on the couch like he belongs here, eyes locked on me, gaze sharp and searching. 1
Wait. When did that couch even get here?
“Noah,” I squeak, somewhere between surprise and confusion.
What the hell is he doing here? When did he get here? And why didn’t I notice him? Maybe I was too focused on making it to the washroom to notice anything else.
“Where are you going?” he asks, leaning forward, his hands gripping the edge of the couch.
“Who? Me?” I repeat stupidly, my voice coming out higher than I’d like.
I clench my thighs together. God, this is not the time for small talk.
He rises slowly, his movements deliberate. “I don’t really see anyone else except you.”
For a second, my brain short–circuits. Because hot damn. Noah looks good. Unfairly good. His dark hair is tousled in that just–got–out–of–bed way that shouldn’t work on anyone, but somehow does on him. The dark denim jeans hug his thighs, and his black t–shirt stretches across broad shoulders and solid arms. Even with the tension in his jaw, he looks good enough to eat. 1
The fact that mind is even thinking about how good he looks is a problem.
“Sierra?”
His husky voice pulls me out of whatever spell I’ve fallen under.
Yeah, I’ve definitely lost my goddamn mind because why the hell am I lusting over the same man I told Lilly was toxic? The same man I swore I’d never get tangled up with again.
I shake my head hard, trying to clear it. Maybe that hit to my head messed me up more than I thought.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, pushing down the sudden wave of anxiety. “I was just stretching my legs.”
1/2
Chapter 17
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“Stretching your legs?”
“Yes,” I repeat, forcing my voice to sound casual. There’s no way I’m admitting that I just needed to pee.
He raises a brow, folding his arms across his chest. And of course, that only makes his biceps stand out more because the universe clearly has a sick sense of humor.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?”
I swallow and close my eyes for half a second, trying to banish every inappropriate thought that just crossed my mind. “What’s wrong with wanting to stretch my legs? I’ve been cooped up for days.”
“Really, Sierra?”
“What?”
He exhales sharply, muttering under his breath, “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re annoying.”
For a moment, the room falls into a charged silence. Then he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s trying to hold himself together. “Do you need help with your… stretch?”
“No,” I mumble, avoiding his eyes. “I can do it myself.”
I turn slowly, dragging my IV stand with me as I make my way to the washroom. My thoughts are running a mile a minute. Everything Lilly told me crashes through my mind like an avalanche. Even when she said Noah stayed at the hospital, part of me refused to believe it. And now, seeing him here, it’s still hard to accept.
By the time I reach the bathroom and finally relieve myself, I’m utterly drained.

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