Glancing down at the blood-red rose tattooed on my forearm, I know what I need to do.

I grab my phone and dial Hale. “Hey, man, I’m sorry, can we talk?” I say without taking a breath. At least he answered. It’s a start. I hope.

“Not now.” His tone is clipped.

He’s going to make me grovel, and damn, I’m all too willing to do it. “I said I’m sorry, dude. I want to talk to you about—”

“It’s Nana. She’s in the hospital. She’s been in ICU for two days . . .” His voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.

He doesn’t have to. Nana is like a second mother to him and Macey. The only family they have left in this world.

“Which hospital? I’m on my way.”

• • •

Running down the hospital corridor, I nearly plow into a parked wheelchair. Geez, take a breath. I slow myself down enough to read on the sign that the intensive care unit is on the sixth floor. Jabbing the button for the elevator repeatedly, I shift my weight from foot to foot, wondering if the stairs would be any faster.

Finally the elevator car arrives and delivers me to the sixth floor. There’s a private waiting room for family with someone in the ICU, which is a good thing, because I realize I don’t know Nana’s first or last name when I check in at the reception desk. I head down the too-quiet hallway and enter the waiting room at the end of the hall. It’s there I find Macey, alone and slumped in a plastic chair.

“Pancake?”

Her head lifts from its resting place on her arm, and her eyes are red and watery. She looks like hell, and something inside me clenches. “What are you doing here?” she asks, blinking up at me.

I cross the room in three long strides and draw her up into my arms. I pull her in firmly against my chest, and given our height difference, her feet dangle inches from the floor. For a second there, I think she might fight me, but instead she collapses against my chest, burrowing her face against my neck, and lets me hold her. It feels like coming home, as if this was the missing piece the entire last six years. But I don’t let myself focus on that for long.

“How is she?” I ask.

Macey sniffles and lifts her head from the warm spot she’s claimed as her own. “She’s eighty years old. They’re trying to prepare us for the worst.”

“Christ.” It’s worse than I thought. “Any news on what happened?”

She nods. “They think it was a stroke. Right now, she’s in a sleep-induced coma while they try to figure out what kind of damage the stroke may have caused.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I tug her toward me again, and her warm body forms to mine. She makes a small murmuring sound of appreciation. “Have you seen her yet?”

“Yes, and there are so many machines and tubes, I almost fainted. It’s horrible seeing her that way.”

“I’m here now. I’ve got you.” I ease us down onto the loveseat and continue holding her hand. “Why are you here alone? If I’d known . . .”

“Cameron and Brie went to the café to get more coffee. He sucks at just sitting here.”

“I see.”

Macey and I make small talk about inconsequential things like the weather and her new apartment. She tells me that she interviewed for a great job at a news station, then fills me in on the snafu when they first arrived at the hospital. The well-meaning hospital staff weren’t going to let Hale and Macey see her. They have some immediate-family-only rule. But you don’t come between an alpha male and his nana. Hale now has the nurses providing regular updates and extra-attentive care to Nana. Thank God.

I just listen and nod and let Macey talk, sensing it’s therapeutic for her. Sitting in silence when you’ve received bad news only makes your head churn with possibilities, most of which are negative.

Hale and Brielle soon return with steaming paper cups of coffee in hand. They hand one to Macey, who shakes her head. She slumps against me, resting her head on my shoulder. Hale lifts an eyebrow in my direction, but doesn’t say anything.

Being here with Macey, taking care of her this way, sparks a thousand memories. Watching her eyes fill with tears as she blinks them back and tries to be strong, reminds me of not so long ago when she and Hale got the devastating phone call that no one should ever have to get. I held her through the hurt and the tears, and when her tears dried up weeks later, I’d grown accustomed to having her in my arms, to being the one to quiet her fears, and tell her everything would be okay. It seemed natural that our relationship would evolve from there.

I realize they’ve been here in this little room, worried sick, for two days. I take in her rumpled clothes and dark-circled eyes. “Have you eaten? Slept?”

She frowns, but doesn’t answer.

“I think you need to get some sleep, in a real bed, and a meal in you. It will make you feel better. Come on.” I rise to my feet, offering her my hand. “Let me take you home.”

“No, I can’t leave Nana.”

“Just for a couple hours, then I’ll bring you back.”

Hale glances at me, and we communicate without speaking. Our disagreement momentarily aside, this is about what’s best for Macey. Hale nods in her direction, encouraging her. “Let Reece take you home, Mace. Just to shower and rest.”

She sighs, but gives him a tight nod and takes my hand. “Okay.”

This is what she needed me to do all along. Take control and look after her needs. That damn throbbing pain is back in my chest.

The drive to her apartment is quiet as Macey stares out the window, obviously worried. After she showers, I tuck her into her unmade bed and tug the fluffy white duvet up to cover her.

She lets out a gentle sigh. “You’ll wake me in a few hours, and take me back to the hospital?”

Her eyes lock onto mine, and I know she’s putting her trust and faith into me when I’ve let her down the last few times we were together.

“Yes, of course I will.”

She closes her eyes and rolls onto her side, hugging the pillow to her chest.

I gaze down at her a moment, hating how I’ve let her down. She said she wasn’t mad, just disappointed in me, but I never wanted to be a source of disappointment for her. She has no job, a cheating ex, and a sick nana to stress over. I don’t want to add any more stress to her life. I just want to be here. For her. With her.

I head out into the living room and sink down onto the couch. I lay my head on the armrest of the sofa, and as the minutes tick past, I realize that I want to be in her life. For real. Without any of the Dominant, macho bullshit to protect my heart. I just want her. I always have.

She’s the one girl I never forgot. And trust me, I tried. For years I tried to wipe my brain clean of the memories of her sweet and loving nature, her kindness, her spark. I sought out new companions to replace those memories with dirty ones. Apparently it didn’t work, because I still want her every bit as much as I did before. Maybe even more.

But she thinks I’m a complete prick, so what am I supposed to do?

• • •

While Macey slept, I attempted to make the banana pancakes she once made for me, but it ended with a mixing bowl of batter and a few burnt pancakes dumped down the trash before she woke. I don’t know how to cook, and apparently it’s harder than they make it look on TV. By the time I hear her stirring, I have takeout waiting for us on the counter, and I’m hoping it’s the thought that counts.

Tentative footsteps cross the wooden floor as Macey enters the kitchen. “That smells good.” Her eyes wander over the white pizza box on the counter. It seems she wants to look anywhere but directly at me.

Fuck, I wonder if this will get easier over time.

I shift a step toward her. “I hope you still like ham and pineapple.”

She nods. She’s got sleep lines across one cheek, and her long hair is tied up in a messy bun, but she looks gorgeous. Natural.