Chapter 35
Tori's POV:
"Are you..." I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Are you messing with me?"
Lucas's expression didn't change.
"Why would I joke about something like this?" His voice was calm, controlled, the perfect Alpha tone that revealed nothing.
I couldn't hold his gaze anymore and looked down at my bandaged leg instead. "Because it makes no sense," I said quietly.
"Thank you for staying with me," I said formally, attempting to sit up. "And for everything else you've done, but I should—"
My leg felt impossibly heavy as I tried to move.
Lucas's hand was instantly on my shoulder, gently but firmly keeping me in place.
"Your leg is broken, Tori," he explained, his voice softening slightly. "You need to rest."
I stared at him, then down at my immobilized leg.
"How long?" I asked, panic rising in my chest. "I can't stay here long. I have work, and classes, and—"
"And all of it will still be there when you're healed," Lucas cut in, his tone making it clear this wasn't up for debate.
Before I could respond, the door opened, and a man in a white coat entered.
I recognized him as Dr. Matthew Howard, the one Morgan had mentioned was Lucas's friend.
"Ah, our patient is awake," he said with a warm smile. "How are you feeling, Tori?"
"Like I was hit by a car," I replied honestly, which made him chuckle.
"Well, that's to be expected." He moved to check my vitals. "Any dizziness or unusual pain besides the obvious?"
"Just a headache and my leg feels like it's being crushed," I admitted. "How long until I can get out of here?"
Matthew's expression turned serious as he reviewed my chart.
"We'll need to keep you under observation for about 48 hours to monitor your concussion symptoms. After that, if everything looks good, you can continue your recovery at home with regular check-ups."
The door burst open again, and Morgan rushed in, holding a container that smelled like chicken soup.
Her eyes were red and puffy, and when she saw me awake, they immediately welled with fresh tears.
"Tori!" she cried, rushing to the bed. "Oh my god, you're okay! I was so worried!"
She carefully hugged me, mindful of my injuries, but I could feel her trembling.
"I'm fine, Morgan," I reassured her, awkwardly patting her back. "It's just a broken leg."
She pulled back, wiping her eyes.
"You could have died! That car was coming straight for us, and you pushed me out of the way." Her voice broke. "If something had happened to you because of me, I would have felt guilty for the rest of my life."
"Hey," I said firmly, squeezing her hand. "It wasn't your fault. And I'm fine, see? Still breathing."
Morgan nodded, but her eyes were still watery. "You saved my life."
"You would have done the same for me," I replied, uncomfortable with her gratitude.
Then a thought hit me, and I groaned.
"Oh no, the coffee shop! Greg is going to kill me. I was on my way to work when the accident happened, and I didn't even call—"
"Relax," Morgan interrupted, a small smile breaking through her tears. "I already called Greg and explained everything. He was super worried about you."
"Really?" I was surprised. Greg was a good boss, but I'd only been working there for a short time.
Morgan nodded. "Actually, it worked out perfectly. He said the café is closing for renovations this week anyway. Something about updating the ventilation system."
Relief washed over me. At least I wouldn't lose my job over this.
Morgan opened the container, releasing the comforting aroma of chicken and ginger.
"I can feed myself," I protested with a small laugh. "I broke my leg, not my arms. My hands still work perfectly fine."
"Are you sure? You still look pretty weak."
"I'm sure."
I took the container and spoon from Morgan, carefully balancing them in my lap before taking a small sip of the warm broth.
The comforting taste of chicken and ginger spread through me, soothing in a way only home-cooked food could be.
"Is it good? Mom added extra ginger because she read somewhere it helps with healing." Morgan hovered anxiously beside me, watching my every reaction.
"It's perfect," I assured her after another spoonful. "Tell your mom thank you."
Matthew glanced at the scene, then turned to Lucas with a knowing smile.
"I think we've become completely irrelevant in the presence of friendship and chicken soup," he said quietly. "Shall we give them some space?"
Lucas lingered for a moment, his eyes meeting mine. Then he followed Matthew out, closing the door softly behind him.
"I'll be back to check on you later," Matthew called out as he left.
As soon as they left, Morgan pulled her chair closer to my bed, her eyes wide with excitement and concern.
"You should have seen Alpha Lucas last night," she said, gesturing dramatically.
"When they brought you in, he was absolutely beside himself. I've never seen him like that—he was pacing, demanding updates every five minutes."
I almost choked on my soup. "He did what?"
"I'm serious! He refused to leave your side the entire night. Jack told me he even canceled three major meetings this morning."
Morgan shook her head in wonder. "I don't get it, Tori. Why is he being so... protective of you? It's like he's personally invested in your recovery or something."
I stirred my soup slowly, avoiding her eyes.
Lucas's words echoed in my mind: I like you, Tori Sullivan.
But I couldn't bring myself to share that with Morgan. It seemed too absurd, too improbable.
What game was he playing?