Maggie's gaze was searching and Blue had the distinct sense that her friend knew she was covering.
The arrival of a nurse with a tray bearing a bowl of soup killed the conversation, much to Blue's relief, and she managed to eat the whole bowl and two crackers before the doctor came to check on her, followed by yet another nurse to "freshen her up" with a sponge bath.
After they'd all gone - the doctor, the nurse, Maggie - Blue stared at the ceiling and wondered at herself. What on earth had the "do you have any regrets?" gambit been about? Surely she hadn't been on the verge of confessing her feelings for Eddie to Maggie?
Everything in her wanted to reject the idea. She'd made her decision where Eddie was concerned a long, long time ago. She wasn't only reconciled to it, she was happy with it. Content. Satisfied.
Except she'd stared death in the eye, and the one thing she'd taken away from the experience was regret. Regret that she'd never been with Eddie. Regret that she would never know. That she'd never tried.
She screwed her eyes tightly shut, wanting to avoid the truth bearing down on her but unable to do so. Had she been fooling herself all these years? Had she told herself she was happy being Eddie's friend, when secretly she'd yearned to be his lover?
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
She couldn't get a clear bead on the answer, and a headache was hovering. She could feel it like an approaching thunderstorm.
You have a head injury. You're probably allowed to be a little goofy in the upstairs department right now.
She eased herself down the bed a little, moving around until she found a cool spot on the pillow. Whatever was going on in her head could wait. She didn't need to unravel it now. And it was possible - probable - that all the churned-up stuff that was surfacing was just a side effect of having been smashed into by a fast moving piece of machinery.
She didn't want things to change between her and Eddie. She never had. He was her rock. Her true north. Her home. She would never trade the certainty and sureness of that reality for anything.
Blue must have fallen asleep, because when she woke again Eddie was beside her bed.
"Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?" He spoke quietly, his gaze soft with concern.
"I've only had twenty hours or so of sleep today," she said. "I think I'll survive."
"How are you feeling?" Again, he sounded as though he was addressing a frail, elderly relative. Someone uncertain and weak. "Do you need anything? Food, water?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Can you please stop looking at me and talking to me like that?"
"Like what?"
"As though I'm about to die in a Nicholas Sparks' movie."
He shook his head. "Only you could be pissed off because someone was being nice to you."
"Pardon me for not wanting to be treated like a helpless victim."
"People give a shit about you, Sullivan. Live with it."
She blinked.
"Don't look so surprised. You know we love you," he said gruffly.
"Jesus. Am I dying? Did the doctors tell you something they didn't tell me?"
"Yeah, they told me you're a pain in the ass. I brought you some stuff. Where do you want it?"
She saw her overnight bag, the one he'd given her a couple of years ago.
"You went to my place?"
He didn't quite meet her eye as he opened the zipper on the bag and rummaged through it. "I got you some pajamas, your robe, your shampoo and toothbrush."
She studied his face, trying to work out how she felt about him being in her space without her there. Then she realized that someone had had to do it, and, given a choice, she'd prefer Eddie over almost anyone.
"Did you go through my underwear drawer?"
"Yep."
"I bet you did, you dirty dog," she said.
It occurred to her that he'd probably found her vibrator if he'd been in her underwear drawer. She couldn't stop herself from grinning as she imagined how uncomfortable that would have made him.
"See anything you want to talk about?" she asked.
"No."
She started to laugh, then caught herself in the nick of time. Having a sense of humor was a health hazard when you had broken ribs.
"What we do need to talk about is what happens when you're ready to go home." He dumped the bag on the floor and sank into the visitor's chair.
"Do we?"
"You can't be on your own."
"Can't I?"
"Don't give me that look. I spoke to the doctor. You're going to be wobbly for a few days. You'll need help showering, getting to the toilet."
"I'm pretty sure I can handle both those things."
"That's because you're a deluded fool. Maggie wants you to stay with her and Raf."
Blue frowned. She hated the idea of being a burden on Maggie and Rafel. Maggie would be so generous and kind, and the odds were good Blue would be unforgivably rude to her within the first hour. She was used to living on her own. She liked her space.
Needed it.
"Or you can come stay with me," Eddie said.
Blue stared at him. "Why on earth would you put your hand up for that?"
"Because I'm a masochist. Obviously."
She glanced down at the bed and realized her good hand was twisted around the edge of the sheet. As though she was scared of something.
She was scared. That was God's honest truth. Scared of the way her heart had just performed a perfect backflip in her chest because he'd invited her to stay with him. Scared that whatever was going on with her emotions post-accident would leak out all over the place and ruin everything.
The last thing she needed was to have Eddie in her face twenty-four-seven when her head and heart were messed up and her equilibrium shot to hell.
Eddie watched her, waiting for a response.
"I'll see how I go on my own, and if it's too hard, I'll give you a call," she hedged, trying to keep her tone as casual as possible.
Eddie smiled. "Nice try."
"What? I'll be fine on my own."
"We're not going to find out."
Blue pressed her lips together. She wasn't going to argue the toss with him. It was her life, after all. She got to make her own decisions. He couldn't make her go home with him.
"I know what you're thinking," he said. "Give it up. I'm going to win this one."
"We'll see."
They eyed each other across the space that separated them for a beat. Then Eddie reached out and caught her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong. He squeezed her hand gently.
"Let me look after you. Please?"
The look in his eyes just about killed her. Part humble, part beseeching, part determined. Her chest felt tight and hot, and she swallowed noisily.
"You play dirty," she finally said.
But she didn't pull her hand free.
Chapter Four
One week later, Eddie watched as Blue planted her crutches on the doorstep of his house and swung over the threshold. He followed warily has she maneuvered her way down the front hall. She'd been getting around on crutches for only two days, and even though she hadn't said anything, he knew she was still finding her balance.
"You're in the back bedroom," he said, her overnight bag in one hand, a backpack full of books, magazines and her Macbook Air in the other. The master and second bedrooms were at the front of the house, but he'd figured she'd prefer the privacy of having part of the house to herself.
"A room with a view. Excellent. And silence," Blue said, making her way carefully through the living room to the short hallway that led to the bedroom.
She paused in the doorway when she reached the room. He watched as she took in the vase of colorful flowers on the bedside table, the fluffy blanket folded across the foot of the bed, the brand-new plush bathrobe resting on top of it. The room smelled of lavender, and the curtains were pushed wide, offering a view of the sunny backyard.
"Maggie?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"She insisted." He didn't have a problem admitting it. He liked nice things - food, wine, interior design - but he wasn't a fluffy blanket kind of a guy. "She said it was the least I could let her do since she wasn't allowed to look after you."
"She should be thanking her lucky stars. Doesn't she realize I'm a cantankerous, foul-mouthed miscreant?"
"I think she got the memo."
He set the bag on the bed and unzipped it.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"What does it look like I'm doing? Unpacking."
Blue reached out and pulled the bag from his grasp. "Ground rules: anything I can do for myself, I do for myself. Period. End of story. You can, however, bring me food any time you like."
"Okay. But I have a rule of my own - no doing stupid shit because you're stubborn and you don't want to ask for help."
"I'm not an idiot."
He simply held her eye.
"Fine. Whatever." Her tone told him she thought he was the most annoying person in the history of the world.