I doubted Dylan even wanted kids, and I definitely did. I doubted that he wanted to settle down. I mean, he’d said himself that he lived here and there. That wasn’t the mark of a dependable man, of a man who would be there for you in the future. He was only good for a one-night stand and nothing more.
Still, a part of me had hoped that our little fun would continue for a little while longer.
Bobby wasn’t fighting that night, so I didn’t have to worry about running into him around the arena. Granted, word might get back to him about my being there, especially wearing the low-cut dress that I was wearing, but I didn’t care.
Let him think what he wanted about Dylan and me. If this was the only way that I could get Dylan back into my bed for another night or two, then so be it. I would take what I could get. Make the most of the time that we still had.
Dylan’s eyes froze on me as he scanned the crowd before his fight began. He blinked for a moment, looking floored, his gaze tracing the hint of lace peeking out from beneath my black dress. I raised an eyebrow at him and he looked adorably flustered—not something that I would have ever expected to see from him.
“Wow,” he mouthed, and I grinned, winking at him. I hoped that boded well for later.
Of course, that was the moment when everything went sideways.
I watched Dylan as the fight started. I had seen enough fights in my life to be able to pick out certain weaknesses, and even though it seemed like Dylan was indestructible, I had read all about the injury that had sidelined him for months.
Unfortunately, it was pretty obvious that his opponent knew this as well. He wasn’t making any efforts to fight fair, attacking the same side over and over again. Dylan matched him gamely for a while, but it was obvious that the fight was taking a toll on him. He didn’t look quite as quick as he had earlier on in the tournament.
I started to get a bad feeling about things.
When Dylan went down, I was up on my feet before I had even processed what had happened. I clapped a hand to my mouth, the only thing keeping me from crying out. Not that I would have been heard above the boos and jeers of the crowd.
He wasn’t getting back up.
My heart lurched into my chest, dropping into the pit of my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to run to his side, but I knew that I couldn’t do anything. I was completely powerless.
It had been a dirty hit. There was no denying that. I didn’t know if Dylan’s competitor had tried to get him in the shoulder, but he had missed and gone straight for his chin. It was no wonder Dylan was dazed. I couldn’t help but let the worry consume me.
Of course, Bobby had gone down in the past; that was just part of the game. But somehow, seeing Dylan sprawled out on the mat like that felt worse. I bit my lower lip, watching as his coach and a medic ran to him. I breathed deeply once as soon as I saw him respond to them. He still wasn’t getting up, though.
I felt like I was vibrating with energy, shaking with the need to rush to his side while being trapped on the sidelines. They brought in the stretcher and I felt sick to my stomach. I had to go after him. I had no other choice.
Fortunately, it was easy enough to get one of Dylan’s personnel to tell me which hospital they’d taken him to. I was so upset, he took one look at my face and immediately blurted out the answer. I called a ride, knowing that I couldn’t drive in the state that I was in. It felt like I was underwater. Everything else was silent, but the buzz of worry ringing in my ears.
When I got to the hospital, naturally, they didn’t let me in to see him just yet. They didn’t even want to give me any information. “I’m his…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what Dylan and I were to one another. I definitely wasn’t his girlfriend. Not yet, anyway.
I was going to have to have a serious talk with him as soon as he was out of here, though. Seeing him sprawled out on the mat like that had crystallized a few things inside my head. I didn’t want to lose him. It wasn’t a matter of putting my heart out there, I realized: my heart was already out there.
“You’re his... wife, aren’t you?” the receptionist said, giving me a meaningful look.
I nodded immediately, and she gave me directions back to his room.
I hesitated outside the door. I knew what I was feeling for him, but I had no idea what Dylan was feeling in return. What if he didn’t feel the same way about me? What if the whole reason he’d been decked out was that I had distracted him? I looked down at what I was wearing, feeling suddenly self-conscious and guilty.
But there was nothing for it. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, giving a small knock before I opened the door.
Dylan was sitting up on the end of the bed, and surely this was a good sign. He looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?” he asked, but his eyes took a moment to rove appreciatively over my body before returning to my worried face. “I’m okay,” he said quickly. “It’s just concussion protocol, they needed to make sure that I was alright. The rest of the scans should be coming
