Untouchable (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Isabel Love

  “Max?” I hear Monica’s voice. “Max, can you hear me?”

  A hand squeezes my hand. I squeeze back, glad Monica is here, though I'm not quite sure why she is here. She lets out a relieved laugh. “He squeezed my hand, I think he’s waking up! Turn off the lights!”

  I don’t feel the light beating down on me anymore, so I try to open my eyes again. After a monumental effort, I’m able to blink my eyes open. I see Monica to my right; her eyes are wet and her smile is wide. She is so beautiful. Then I see my mom, Ella, and Chloe to my left. These are my girls, all of them.

  “Max!” “You’re awake!” They all talk at once, hugging each other, squealing, and crying.

  I know something bad had to have happened for my sisters to be here, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what. I look around and confirm that I’m in the hospital. The sheets are scratchy and I’m connected to monitors and an IV pump, the beeping of the machines tracking my heartbeat.

  “Wha—?” I try to ask, but the word dies partway through. I keep forgetting how much my throat hurts until I use my voice.

  Monica understands me. “You were in an accident three days ago.”

  An accident? Three days? My eyes widen with the realization that I lost three entire days. I squint, trying hard to think of the last thing I remember, but it’s useless. My head is killing me and even though I just woke up, exhaustion makes it difficult to keep my eyes open. I blink and then decide it just feels so much better to close my eyes altogether.

  “Max, baby, open your eyes for me,” Monica says right next to my ear.

  I struggle to do just that, and her gorgeous hazel eyes meet mine. “I’ve got you, okay? Dr. Harper is going to come in to check you out and then I promise you can rest.”

  I nod then grimace as the throbbing intensifies with that small movement.

  “Are you in pain?” she asks me.

  “Yes,” I whisper. Whispering hurts less than talking.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I panic at the thought of her leaving and hold on to her hand tightly, the beeps speed up with my pulse. I may not remember how I got here, but I do remember that Monica and I had broken up. The fact that she’s here gives me hope that she still cares for me. I don’t want her to leave.

  She kisses my forehead gently and whispers in my ear, “I’m not leaving you, I’m just going to get you more pain medication. I promise I’ll be back in two minutes.” Then she kisses my cheek, and I relish the feel of her soft lips on my skin.

  Kisses are a good sign, right? It’s not like I can stop her from leaving anyway. I try to lift my arm, but it feels as if it weighs a thousand pounds. Moving my body is beyond my capability right now.

  As Monica’s footsteps leave the room, I sense my mom, Ella, and Chloe come closer and they take my hands. I blink my eyes open and try to stay awake.

  “Mom,” I whisper.

  “Oh honey, we were so worried about you!” she says as she leans down to smooth my hair back. “What possessed you to ride your bike to work even after you bought a car?”

  Was I riding my bike? I think hard. The sound of screeching tires and my subsequent panic flits through my memory, but before the scene takes shape, it’s gone.

  “Yeah, Max. What the hell is that about? If you think you’re ever riding your bike again, you have another thing coming,” Ella tells me, as if riding my bike is as dangerous as bungee jumping.

  I shrug, or at least I try to shrug.

  “So, we all met Monica,” Chloe states the obvious. “Don’t worry, we didn’t beat her up, but it was a close call.”

  “Good thing, too, because we totally would have taken her down,” Ella adds. “She hasn’t left this room for more than 10 minutes at a time since you got here.”

  Really? That small kernel of hope expands and grows into a brighter force in my chest, and my lips stretch into a small smile. At least smiling doesn’t hurt—except for the fact that my lips are extremely dry.

  “Monica has been pretty amazing,” my mom agrees.

  Footsteps approach and I struggle to keep my eyes open so I can see who has come into the room. Monica and another woman dressed in scrubs and a lab coat walk up to me, and relief courses through me at the sight of my goddess. I just want everyone to leave so she can climb into my bed and hold me while I sleep.

  “Hi there, Max. I’m Harper Williams. I’m overseeing your care while you’re with us,” the woman tells me with a warm smile. “We’re all very glad to see you’re awake. I know you must be tired so I won’t take up much of your time, but I need to do a quick exam, okay?” Dr. Williams asks.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Monica tells me you're having some pain, is that right?”

  “My head, my throat. Hurts to talk.” I try to convey my meaning with as few words as possible.

  “Do you remember what happened?” she asks me.

  “No.”

  “You were hit by an SUV while riding your bicycle. You landed on your back and despite wearing a helmet, you suffered a concussion, which is why your head hurts so bad. We’re going to increase your dosage of pain medication now that you’re awake and can tell us how you're feeling.” She adjusts the IV pump at my side and I’m guessing the pain medication is being delivered through my IV. “In addition to your concussion, you fractured three ribs on your right side, which punctured your right lung. These injuries, along with the impact of being hit by an SUV and landing on the asphalt, caused a fair amount of internal bleeding.”

  I can barely follow all of what she is saying and my eyelids desperately want to close. Concussion, broken ribs, damaged lung, and internal bleeding—no wonder I’m so sore.

  “We patched you up during surgery, and your throat is sore because you had a breathing tube in until this morning. That soreness will go away soon, but try to rest your voice as much as you can.” She turns to my mom and sisters. “Ladies, can you step out while I do a quick exam?”

  I'm glad Monica stays at my side while the doctor checks me over. She makes sure I have normal sensation from head to toe (I do), has me try to move all body parts (I can), shines a light into my eyes, and looks at my surgical incision. I realize that’s why my right side feels like it was bashed in with a baseball bat.

  Dr. Williams smiles down at me. “You're really lucky, Max. Everything checks out as well as can be expected. I’ll stop by later after you’ve had a chance to rest. Please let me know if you need anything.”

  She says a few brief words to Monica then lets my family back in the room. As my mom peppers her with questions, Monica touches my forehead. I crack my eyes open to look at her.

  “Please stay,” I murmur as my eyes drift closed again. I struggle to keep looking at her.

  She smiles at me and nods. “I’m right here. You rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

  This makes me feel better. As I drift off into sleep, her smile makes me feel hope.

  Monica

  The first couple days after he wakes up, Max does little other than sleep. He is able to eat, keep food down, and go to the bathroom, but even those basic activities are exhausting for him. His mom, Chloe, and Ella flit around him like little butterflies trying to take care of him, which doesn’t give us much time alone. I have a feeling they are driving him crazy, but his sisters are going back home tonight so they can get back to school and work.

  I’m anxious for some time alone with Max so I can talk to him about us. He needs to know I want everything with him and that I had changed my mind even before the accident. That I’m still his, if he’ll have me, and I want him to be mine.

  After going home for a short shower break, I quickly make my way back to Max’s hospital room. Hopefully, he will be discharged tomorrow. If I can convince him, I’d like for him to come stay at my house.

  As I walk back into the hospital room, I hear Dr. Williams talking with Max and his mom. “You are on track to go home tomorrow, but you will need to take it easy, Max. It would be bes
t if someone was there to help you, especially the first week or two.”

  “I could probably take more time off from work,” Brooke offers.

  “Mom, you’ve missed a ton of work this week. Please don’t miss anymore; I’ll be fine,” he protests.

  “No, you can’t—”

  I clear my throat and step farther into the room. “I’ve already taken the time off from work. You can come stay with me, or I’ll come stay with you if you prefer.”

  His eyes widen at my offer. “You don’t need to do that, Monica.”

  Brooke looks relieved as her eyes bounce from me to Max.

  “It’s no problem. I want to,” I insist.

  Dr. Williams goes on to tell him about the tests that will be done today, the results of which will tell us if he needs any more time in the hospital. Once she leaves the room, the tension is so thick it’s suffocating. Brooke announces that she’s going to get some breakfast, and then we are left alone.

  Finally.

  Max meets my eyes, more alert today than he has been. “What are you doing, Monica? I’ve been so grateful to have you here, I haven’t wanted to question it much. I don’t remember the accident, but I remember that we were not together anymore before the accident. Did I forget something? Why are you here?”

  This is it. Time to tell him how I feel. I pull the chair as close as I can, sit, and take his hand in mine. “I love you, Max.”

  He smiles sadly at me. “I love you, too, Monica, but I’m still the same guy. You’re still the director and I’m still the nurse that works for you. Nothing has changed, other than the fact that I may not have any income to speak of with all the time I have to take off because of this.”

  “I was an idiot,” I admit. “I let something as stupid as other people’s opinions matter too much. I was an absolute coward and didn’t want other people gossiping about my personal life, but I realize now that nothing matters to me as much as you do.”

  He sighs. “Because of the accident? I don't want your pity.” He looks away and tries to extricate his hand from mine.

  Shit. This is not going well. I cling to his hand and try to explain myself. “I was miserable after we broke up.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I scheduled a meeting with Dr. Finley,” I tell him, desperate for him to believe this isn’t just about the accident.

  He glances back over at me with wary eyes. “You did?”

  “I did.” I nod emphatically. “It was scheduled for Thursday at nine AM. I had it scheduled already when we saw each other Wednesday night at Safe Zone.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I almost did when you walked me to my car, but then I lost my nerve and thought you would take me more seriously if I had already met with him.”

  “Did you end up talking to him?”

  “I did. I missed the meeting, obviously, because I came right here when I heard you were hurt. When I got to the ER, I pretty much fell apart in front of everyone, so they all know about us now.” My heart squeezes when I think of that scene.

  His eyes soften. “I’m sorry I worried you. I don’t remember being in the ER at all.”

  “Dr. Finley came to see me in here later that day. I told him that I’m in love with you. I explained that if he had a problem with our relationship, I would resign.”

  “What?” He stares at me in disbelief. “You said you would resign?”

  “I did.”

  “And? What did he say?” He tightens his hold on my hand.

  “He told me how he met his wife.” I smile.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Apparently, Dr. Finley married his nurse.”

  He gapes. “Really?”

  “Really. He is sympathetic to our circumstances. He promised me our jobs are secure and said we should meet with him when you’re better to go over logistics.”

  “Are you serious?”

  I nod, my smile uncontainable.

  He smiles back at me, his face lighting up. Then it falters.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What about the rest? We come from such different backgrounds, Monica. Are you sure you don’t want to be with someone more…financially stable?” He closes his eyes as if in pain. My sweet man is worried about money.

  “I make more money than you,” I say. “I own my house, pay cash for my cars, and have enough money in the bank that I could quit my job and live comfortably for several years.” I’m not boasting, just stating the truth.

  He stares at me, not quite sure why I’m telling him all of this.

  “Do you want me for my money?” I ask him.

  “You know I don’t.”

  “I don’t want you for your money, either.” How can I convince him I don’t care how much—or little—money he has?

  “It’s not quite the same thing, though, is it?” He sighs.

  “If the shoe was on the other foot and you had more money than me, would you hold it against me?” I ask him, trying to get my point across.

  “Of course not.”

  “So don’t hold it against me. Don’t make this an issue when it doesn't have to be one.”

  “But…” He struggles with his words, then grimaces and touches his head. I’m afraid this talk is giving him a headache.

  “I want everything with you, Max.”

  He hears my words and looks up at me.

  Emotion clogs my throat and I try not to cry. “Even though you ended things with me, I never stopped being yours. I want to be on your team. I want to be with you all the time. Working, dancing, volunteering, drawing on the sidewalk with chalk, laughing, crying. I want it all with you by my side. So what if I make more money than you do? So what if we come from different backgrounds? I don't care about any of it, as long as I have you. Please tell me you still want everything with me, too.” Tears slide down my face as I wait for his response.

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. His expression is so somber; I prepare myself for rejection. I really don’t deserve this amazing man after what an idiot I’ve been.

  Bright blue eyes meet mine and I’m caught in his stare. “No more pretending?”

  “Never again,” I promise.

  His lips stretch into a radiant smile. “I want everything with you, too. I never stopped wanting you, Monica.”

  I almost launch myself at him before I remember that he is bruised and battered. Instead, I gently touch his face and kiss his lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I can’t wait.

  Monica

  The beeping of the alarm is the most annoying sound on earth, and I groan while blindly swatting at the spot where I think the alarm clock is sitting. It takes me three tries to find it with my eyes closed, but I finally do, and I hit the snooze button. Burrowing back into my comfortable spot, I plan to sleep for seven more minutes then hit the snooze button again and sleep for seven more minutes before I get up and get ready for work. I treasure the extra minutes of sleep I get by hitting snooze twice.

  “Wake up, sweetheart,” Max says, his voice gravelly from sleep.

  “Nooo,” I complain, keeping my eyes closed.

  He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, nuzzling my neck. My body melts into his and I sigh in bliss. This is way more comfortable than my pillow.

  “I know a much better way to pass the next few minutes before you need to get in the shower,” he tells me as he rolls on top of me. He wraps his hand around my knee and pulls my leg up, making space for him to nestle in between my legs. I feel his erection, hard and ready.

  “Mmmm. I’m so tired,” I mumble sleepily. I don’t think I can be an active participant in sex this early in the morning.

  He trails kisses down my neck and onto my chest. Oh, that’s nice. He reaches down and pulls up my nightgown, maneuvering it up as far as he can over my hips. “Lift up,” he tells me.

  “I can’t move,” I
reply. My limbs are too heavy and just the thought of sitting up requires too much energy.

  He chuckles. “So I guess you don’t want me to do this?” He leans to the side and reaches down, smoothing his hand up my thigh until it reaches between my legs. His fingers trail over my underwear, tickling my clit.

  “Mmmm, that’s nice.” My eyes are still closed and it almost feels like a dream.

  Tickles turn into strokes and my body starts to wake up. I tilt my hips up, giving him easier access. He tugs on my nightgown to get it higher and I manage to lift my torso up a bit so he can pull it off. My skin prickles with goosebumps, but he chases them away with his lips. He licks one nipple, then the other while he rubs my clit, back and forth.

  I finally get control of my limbs and curl my fingers into his hair. I love the way his stubble scratches against my skin. I love the weight of his body on top of mine. I love what he’s doing to me. I open my eyes, blinking a few times to help me focus on this amazing view.

  First, I see his dark hair, a mess from sleep. Then I see his bright blue eyes gazing up at me has he sucks my nipple into his sexy mouth. He lets go with a pop when he realizes I’m actually awake and smiles at me.

  His smile is sweet and sexy all at once. “Good morning, Dr. Morgan.”

  I tug on his hair at his greeting and pull his head up so I can kiss him.

  Then the alarm goes off again. Ugh. He reaches over and turns it off.

  “Hmmm, I think I might get a few more minutes of sleep.” He fakes a yawn and starts to roll off of me.

  “Don’t you dare! Now that I’m awake, I like your idea of how to pass the time.”

  “Oh, really?” He pushes his hips forward, rubbing his erection in just the right spot. Why are we still wearing underwear?

  I reach down and tug on the waistband of his boxers. “You’re wearing too much clothing,” I complain. He sits up, takes off his boxers, then leans down to take my underwear off too. I’m anxious for his body to lie back down on top of mine, but he stills for a minute and simply looks at me. I’m sure my hair is a wreck from sleeping on it, that bit of mascara I can never get off has probably formed raccoon eyes, and there are likely creases on my cheek from my pillow, but he looks at me like I’m the sexiest thing he has ever seen.