Twisted(118)
Lila sighed. “Kids today. Romantic subtext is completely lost on the lot of you.”
He snorted. “Yeah, because you’re so much older than we are.”
“Maybe not chronologically, no.” She let go of his hand to open up her dainty purse that was the size of Jazz’s wallet. A moment later, she withdrew a slim silver case and sifted through the business cards inside until she found a cream-colored one and handed it over.
“Visions?” he asked, reading the line beneath the rolling hills that made up the company’s logo.
Addiction treatment and recovery.
“You’ve figured out what it is, so I won’t bother explaining. I will say that I’ve known several of the guests there, and they’ve made remarkable progress.”
He shifted on the bed, trying futilely to get comfortable. That was difficult to do when it felt like his bones were being held together with a substance about as solid as gelatin. “Guests like your husband?”
She glanced away. “No. He doesn’t believe he has a problem, so he hasn’t sought treatment.”
“Yet you remain married to the guy.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge unless you’re ready to hop on the bus to Visions yourself. It’s easy to see the flaws in others, much harder to recognize them in ourselves.”
He tipped back his head to stare at the ceiling. It was only then that he noticed the cluster of balloons in the corner, decorated with get well wishes and cartoon characters. “Who sent those?”
“Everyone.” She smiled. “Your bandmates and assorted friends and family have been in and out of this room constantly while you’ve been napping.”
The surge of hope nearly stole his breath. Hell, it did entirely. “You lied to me?”
She patted his hand. “Selective truth.”
“If I ask if she’s been here, does that prove I need to go to Visions?”
“No, it proves you love her, and for good reason, because she’s barely slept since you’ve been in this white-walled prison. I finally sent her home an hour ago to get some rest. She’s worn out and on the verge of getting sick.”
“Good. I mean, I’m glad you sent her, that she went.”
“Me too.” Lila picked at her nails. “So how long are you going to evade the question?”
“I didn’t realize there was one.” He let out a breath. “I’ve gone a few days without any blow.”
“You’ve been unconscious for most of them.”
He dropped his head to the pillow. “I’m not your husband—”
“Hey, am I interrupting?”
Gray glanced up at Nick’s brush of knuckles against the doorframe. It wasn’t even close to an actual knock but Nick expending even a modicum of effort in the manners department was big. Gray started to respond until he realized Nick’s gaze was locked on Lila.
“Your husband, hmm?” He smiled blandly as he walked into the room without waiting for an invitation. “I must’ve missed that you have one.”
She angled her chin. “I must’ve missed that it was any of your business.”
Nick’s smile never faltered. “Everything’s my business, sweetness.” He shifted his attention to Gray. “You look semi-alive.”
Gray cocked his head, wondering if the pain meds he was on had influenced what he thought he’d just witnessed. Even now Lila and Nick were so noticeably not looking at each other that they might as well have been in a staring contest. What the hell?
Too bad Jazz wasn’t there. She’d be able to weigh in—yeah, like that wouldn’t be the least bit awkward.
It was all so fucking awkward.
“I’m okay,” Gray said, tucking the card Lila had given him under the sheet. He had no intention of going down that road with Nick, today or any other day.
“Your color’s better. Gray’s not a good color for you.” Nick grinned at his own joke. “See what I did there?”
“Impressive.” Lila rose to her feet. “Think about what we discussed, Grayson, and get back to me when you’ve made a decision.”
“What if I already have?”
She tucked her bite-sized purse under her arm. “Then my original terms for your loan repayment stand. You didn’t use the money as intended, so you’re out.”
“Wait a second,” Nick began, shocking Gray into silence.
“Butt out,” Lila snapped. “If you were such a humanitarian, you wouldn’t have caused trouble for him and Jasmine at every turn. I know what the hell I’m doing.” She strode out of the room and shut the door. She didn’t slam it, but it was damn close.