Back To You (Sweet, Safe, & Sexy AF Romances Book 2)

by Elena M. Reyes

  “From my house, it’s an hour.”

  He hums at my reply. “Good.”

  “Why?” Crystal interjects, feeling just as thrown for a loop as I am.

  “Because your plane leaves in two hours. Don’t pack—we’ll figure that out when you land.”

  “Land where?” What the hell is going on?

  “California, girls. We leave for El Salvador tonight at midnight.”

  fourteen

  The scenery rushes through my line of sight—a rapid reel of lush, green surroundings. Colonial-style homes line the street of each subdivision we zoom by as we make our way to Nick. No one speaks, and exhaustion sits heavy on all of our shoulders.

  It’s been more than two hours since we landed in the capital and hired a driver to take us across to them. The closer we get, I see for myself the destruction, the chaos left behind by mother nature’s explosive temper.

  Nick is my champion. A hero.

  High mountains surround us on either side of the winding road we are on; I’ve lost track of how many turns and the determined faces that are ready to rebuild their beloved country.

  I can never imagine the things he’s seen over his years of traveling abroad and helping those less fortunate, but I see the allure to do so. The more I see, the more I want to stop this car and help. Give them what we take for granted day in and day out.

  It puts things into perspective.

  My eyes flicker away from the window and toward his parents who sit in the row in front of us. Caroline has her face on her husband’s shoulder while his arms squeezes her tight, a silent show of support.

  They’ve been more than amazing to a pair of total strangers that have barely just begun a relationship with their son and his friend. They flew us out—took care of all preparation and wouldn’t accept a dime when we asked to take care of the cost. Not even the hotel close to the hospital where we will stay until they can come home.

  The only thing they asked of us is to call our school and explain the family emergency. That we attain assignments through email and try not to fall too behind, something that both the dean and professors promised wouldn’t be an issue. This is a light semester, just beginning, and all three classes have quite a bit of reading material to sift through the first few weeks.

  Crystal’s phone pings beside me, and I look over. She mouths the word Mom and replies.

  Makes me think of my own. Everyone is worried and not over our impromptu departure.

  Jesus, so much has happened—is happening—that my head’s spinning.

  A few seconds later, my own receives a text from my parents.

  Did you land? ~Mom

  Is he awake yet? ~Mom

  They’ve been amazing through it all. My rushed explanation and then the news I would be traveling to a foreign country with virtual strangers. Our parents—Nicholas’s and mine—spoke after I landed in California. Whatever questions were asked, or information shared, I have no clue, but it’s enough to quell any apprehension they might’ve silently had.

  Not once have they given me grief or questioned my choice. Instead, I was met with understanding and support—told to call them when we land and when I see him. That they can’t wait to meet the man that their level-headed daughter loves.

  They want to be here for me and him. Do what they can until we get Nick home and they can visit.

  And while it might be weird to some, their acceptance is important. They too fell in love in a matter of days and have been together for over twenty-four years. A happy marriage. Inseparable since the first moment they laid eyes on each other at a freshman orientation mixer.

  They love hard and have always wanted for me what they share.

  That all-encompassing love that leaves you smiling all day. That gives and equally takes—supports and cherishes every single instant that you are in each other’s presence.

  “Do you love him, baby?” my mother asks while Dad gives a grunt somewhere in the background. It’s for show, and a second later he lets out a boisterous laugh when Mom clears her throat. It’s a specific sound she’s been making since I can remember, a mixture of coughing/whistling that is beyond weird, but he finds endearing. “Ignore him and answer me, Mila.”

  “Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m just doing my fatherly duty. Until the “I Love Yous” have been exchanged, he’s the enemy.”

  “Daddy, I love him.” I’m at the airport in Charleston waiting for our flight to board, while Crissy hunts down some coffee. “I know it’s fast, a little bit reckless, but I do and with all my heart. He’s my person.”

  “Does he love you? Treat you right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s all I need to know. Call us if you need anything, baby…don’t worry about the time or cell phone bill. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe out as a weight lifts off my shoulder.

  At that moment, I realized how much their approval of my action and relationship mean to me. That they’re okay with this. Me and Nick.

  Not that it changes anything, just makes it easier.

  “We’re here, girls,” Caroline chimes as Richard pays the driver and opens the door to the SUV. He steps out first, extending a hand out to his wife. She takes it, gets out, and then we follow.

  Follow them through the sliding glass doors of the entrance.

  The hospital is a bustle of people: staff, patients, and the families of those currently being seen. So much is happening around us, and yet our focus remains on getting up to the eighth floor, where Evan and my Champ are.

  I’m nervous, palms sweating as we take the elevator up and while checking in at the front desk. Two women man the desk while all around us nurses float in and out of rooms taking care of their patients. They’re busy—you can see the fucking exhaustion on each face.

  “Who are you here to see?”

  “Nicholas Adams and Evan Roberts,” Richard answers, his hand encasing Caroline’s.

  “Relation to the patients?”

  “Nicholas is my son, and Evan is a close family friend. His own family won’t be arriving until early tomorrow morning and have asked me to get an update for them. Will that be an issue?”

  “Not at all, sir.”

  “Good. The family and I appreciate it.”

  During the exchange, Crystal and I share looks. Annoyed ones. They need to hurry up and point me in the right direction.

  “Just one moment, please.” The nurse picks up a phone then and punches in what looks to be an extension. “Doctor Orton, please.” She smiles as us. “Hi. Yes. Sorry to interrupt you, doctor, but the family of Doctor Nicholas Adams and Evan Roberts has arrived, and you asked to be notified at once…” a nod while she jots something down “…of course. Right away.”

  Caroline places her hand on the counter and leans forward. “I want to see my son, Miss.”

  “Of course, I’m sorry for the delay. Adams is in room 526 and Roberts in 528. Just head straight down this corridor, and it’s the second to last door on the right.”

  “Thank you,” Richard says, but doesn’t move. Instead, he looks over and signals for me to go ahead. “Who is the attending and why does he—”

  I’ll forever be grateful for the head start, the few extra seconds I’ll get alone with my Champ.

  Before anyone can stop me, I grab Crystal’s hand and rush down the hall. It feels never ending.

  We pass room after room, each full to capacity and waiting.

  To be seen. To be discharged. To have someone give them good news.

  At the end of the hall we stop, a few steps from the doors, and look at each other. No words are said. None necessary.

  We know.

  This is where we separate and each walk toward our destiny. No matter how much I want to be there for her and vice versa, we each have someone we love needing us. It doesn’t diminish my loyalty to her or our bond; just signals a change in our dynamic.

  A good one. A happy one.

&nbs
p; We have love. A fairy tale that is now our reality.

  “Come on, Crissy…let’s go wake those stubborn jerks up.” At my words, she nods. Giggles. “Love you.”

  “Always.” She pulls me into a tight hug and then walks into Evan’s room, closing the door behind her.

  “And then there was one,” I mutter low. Squaring my shoulder, I take in a few deep breaths while walking closer. Five steps, and I am at his door—looking through a slim opening and focusing on the arm in my line of sight.

  It’s his. Those tattoos I find sexy as hell are on display.

  Just a glimpse, and I feel a sense of calm take over. My Champ is right beyond this door.

  I need more. All of him.

  Closing my eyes, I push open the door and take a second to collect myself before opening them. Nicholas is on the bed, asleep. His handsome face is serene and the left side a bit swollen, bruising. There’s a bandage over his temple that reaches back and over his skull where some of his hair has been shaved off.

  Lower, I skim his soft lips and then angular jaw toward more dressing. His neck looks fine until you reach the collarbone where I find him in some kind of brace that limits movement. Did he dislocate his shoulder?

  They seem to have the wrapping tight and protecting the swollen area. Walking closer, I pause at the edge of his bed and inspect him from head to toe, finding another wound down his arm with more stitches. More dried blood.

  My poor Champ.

  There’s a chair next to his bed that I angle toward him and sit down. Taking his hand in mine, I just hold it for a few seconds and let the warmth of his touch soothe me. “You scared the hell out of me,” I whisper, choking on my emotions. “You can’t get hurt like this again. Never again.” His fingers twitch, and I bend down to kiss his knuckle, then lay my head over his hand as a few tears escape. “I love you so much, Nick. Please, baby, open those eyes for me.”

  The door to his room opens a few minutes later, and his parents slip inside. They’re smiling, some of the worry they’ve been carrying no longer showing. Now a bit calmer, they seem happy.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, sitting up but keeping Nick’s hand in mine.

  Richard walks around the bed and takes his place opposite of mine. “Evan is awake—a bit in pain—but happy as all hell after seeing Crystal by his side.”

  A huge smile breaks out across my face. “That’s great news!”

  I’m genuinely happy for her. Them.

  “It’s why we took so long,” Caroline explains. She stops beside me and places her hand over her son’s and mine. Gives them a squeeze. “After hearing Crystal scream, the nurse rushed in and we followed, thinking the worst. Instead, what we found was adorable…she was peppering his face with kisses.”

  “I didn’t hear anything?”

  “And everyone understands that your attention is occupied at the moment.” Looking down at his son, Richard lets out a heavy sigh. “Jesus, kid.” He catalogs each cut, bruise, and the bandages littering his upper body.

  As his parents, they’re hurting for him. It’s different from what I am experiencing; just as heartbreaking, but on another level. While his injuries aren’t life threatening, seeing someone you love in a hospital bed is unbearable.

  “Please take a seat, Caroline.”

  I make a move to stand, but she shakes her head. “Don’t, sweetheart,” she whispers, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. “You’re right where he needs you to be.” Leaning over the bed, she lays a tiny kiss on his cheek and then on my forehead.

  “Thank you.” What else could I say? Her acceptance of us warms my heart, makes me feel like I’m part of the family and not someone she just met. Clearing my throat, I look at his dad. “Have you guys spoken to their doctor?”

  “We saw him in Evan’s room.” Grabbing the small water pitcher on Nick’s tray table, he pours himself a glass and takes a hearty sip. “They’re going to be fine. Evan has a broken ankle and suffered a mild concussion, while Nick dislocated his shoulder. When the concrete wall fell on him, he pierced his skin with a metal piece of rebar—the two cuts are quite deep. On his head, they used ten staples, while his shoulder needed over fifty stitches. Because of the blow to the head and the loss of blood, he lost consciousness.”

  “Oh God,” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth while his mother wraps her arms around me. “When will he wake up? Did they check for any internal injuries?”

  “His scans came back clear. I promise that they did a thorough job in treating him,” his Mom says, her voice soft and soothing. “I know his doctor; they’ve worked together before on the same medical team abroad.”

  “And waking up?” God, all I want is for those eyes to open. For him to smile at me. Kiss me.

  “Any moment now. Whenever he is ready.”

  Something tickles me. It’s soft and causes me to wiggle my nose. “Stop,” I whine, batting a hand blindly. My fingers meet the air and then scratchy sheets. What the hell?

  Where am...

  It all comes back then.

  Nick’s accident and the call to his parents. The two flights on little to no sleep, and then seeing him on a bed, unconscious. His injuries. His hand in mine, and the twitch of his fingers while I whispered my love.

  Two days of agonizing wait while I kept vigil at his side. I must’ve fallen asleep.

  Once again, a feather-light touch bops my nose and this time, it’s followed by a warm chuckle.

  A chuckle that’s very close. A chuckle I know.

  “Please don’t let this be a dream.”

  “Open your eyes and see.” Fuck, that voice. A shiver runs through my body, and the large hand over my ribs pulls me closer.

  I nuzzle the fabric beneath my face. “Don’t want to.”

  “Why, beautiful?” There’s a hint of mirth in his tone, and I smile. In my mind, I see him. See him smirking at me, eyes devouring my short frame.

  “Because if it’s a dream, I never want to wake up.”

  “Look at me, Mimi.” Lips skim down the side of my face, pausing at the corner of my mouth. “Please.”

  Slowly, I do as he says, and what greets me floods my eyes with tears. Happy tears. Thankful tears.

  “Baby,” I choke out, bringing a hand up to cup his face. I’m gentle with my touch, careful not to move him or touch his— “How did I get up on the bed?”

  He laughs, and the sudden movement moves his shoulder. His grimace tells me all I need to know, and I scramble to get up, however, his hold doesn’t allow it.

  “I’m not ready to let go yet,” he says softly with so much emotion—the love hitting me with each syllable that leaves his mouth. We will carry the events that happened here for a while. We need the closeness, and I’ll be careful not to hurt him, but won’t move.

  His need mirrors my own, and I nod. “Okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Thank you.”

  Caressing his cheek, I lean up and kiss those lips I’ve missed so much. Just a few soft pecks. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  Nick kisses me back, groaning as he tries to move closer. “Fucking brace is going to get on my last nerve.”

  “It’s there to help you, Champ.”

  “It’s kiss-blocking me.” Before he can protest, I turn and kneel on the bed, placing my hands on the mattress while hovering over him. He’s being adorable, and he pouts from below.

  “Have I told you that I’ve missed you?” Lips just a breath away from his, I lick them, a movement he follows with unrestrained hunger. “That I never want to be away from you again?”

  “Tell me.” He doesn’t need to explain; I know.

  “I love you, Nick. Now and forever.”

  “I love you, too. You’re my everything, Mila.” His uninjured hand embeds itself in my hair and pulls my mouth down to his. This time—this kiss—is hungry and full of the longing we’ve built over the last few weeks. It’s a bit sloppy with teeth clashing, but perfect.

  It’s home.

/>   “Can I move in with you?” I blurt out, and then take his bottom lip between mine. “Our schedules are different, and the commute will suck for another year while I graduate, but it’ll be worth coming home to you.”

  It feels right. It’s something I’ve been thinking about since getting on the plane in California. Since we landed. Since we walked through the hospital’s door.

  Some might think we’re rushing, but why wait? Everything that’s happened has taught me one thing: life is short and can change in the blink of an eye. There’s no right or wrong when it comes to one’s happiness, and I’ve been lucky enough to find my forever with him. My Champ.

  Nicholas pulls back, a goofy grin on his face. “Home is wherever you are, sweetheart.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “That’s a fuck, yes,” he growls out before kissing me once more. We pour into that kiss every bit of our love and relief—this all-consuming need that’s been for present since we met.

  He is mine, and I am his.

  epilogue #1

  six months later…

  There are a few moments in a man’s life that shape him. Turn him into the best version possible, and right now is one of those for me.

  Mila is walking to me in a sinful little swimsuit reminiscent of the one she wore the day I met her. It’s tiny. Blue. A wicked delight I plan to peel from her soft skin later today.

  In exactly fifteen minutes, if I have it my way.

  Her family and mine are standing close by, just beyond a few palm trees and pretending to be talking. All of them are enjoying the scenery and the few ice-cold beers the men brought back with them from lunch.

  God, her father is a trip. Her entire family is.

  They’ve taken me in as if I have always been a part of their tribe.

  After waking in the hospital and being kept there for over two weeks, I was released, and we came home. Our home, where she was moved in within twenty-four hours with the help of her parents who arrived one night before we did.

  And it was that same night that I spoke to her father and explained my intentions. Face to face, I let him know that his daughter will always be taken care of. Loved and cherished.