Hypnotized by Love by Wilson Sariah

Author:Wilson, Sariah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2024-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Let me get your parents,” he said.

“Nope.” If I didn’t want them to know that I had been drinking, I most definitely did not need them to know that I had been stuck in the doggy door and had fallen off the trellis. This was one of those things that I planned on taking to the grave. “Sierra’s working tonight at the ER. She can help.”

He tried to help me to stand, but as soon as I put pressure on my left foot, I yelped in pain.

Without hesitation, Mason swung me up into his arms and carried me across the backyard and back to my car like it was easy. Like I was weightless.

In between bursts of throbbing pain, I was super impressed.

And I liked how it felt to have him hold me in his arms. As if he could keep me safe.

This is where you belong.

And this time I didn’t tell my inner teenager to be quiet. Instead I let my head rest against his shoulder and felt the brush of his lips across the top of my scalp, making it tingle as he put me gently into the car.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, and Mason had to carry me from the parking lot into the lobby of the ER. He set me down in a chair and went over to tell the registration nurse why we’d come in.

“We’re not too busy tonight. Let me grab a wheelchair, and she can come on back.”

I was actually disappointed that Mason wasn’t going to be able to carry me any longer. When the nurse came out, she stopped short and said, “Sierra?”

“I’m Savannah. Her identical twin.”

“Wow, do you two look the same! I’m Cynthia, by the way.”

I held back my retort that, yes, we looked the same because that was the literal definition of identical, but I stayed quiet. Since Cynthia might be the one responsible for giving me painkillers, I wasn’t going to be snarky.

The grin on Mason’s face told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.

Cynthia and Mason helped me into the wheelchair, and then she rolled me back into an examination room. They both had to help me get into the bed, and I tried to ignore how awkward I felt.

“Tell me what brings you in tonight,” Cynthia said.

“She fell off a trellis,” Mason answered. “After she got stuck going through a dog door.”

He was making me sound terrible. “In my defense, I was drunk, and that’s why I got stuck and then fell off a trellis.”

“That’s not a defense. It’s just a description of what happened,” he said.

“So yes to alcohol consumption tonight . . . Let me get some of your vitals.” Cynthia took my blood pressure, then checked my pulse, oxygen saturation, and temperature. She told me what she was doing with each device and then recorded all of her findings on a tablet she had with her.

She asked for my height, my weight, and the date of my last menstrual cycle, and I didn’t make eye contact with Mason as I gave those to her.

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