The Next Line ( The Lineage Series #2)

Joshuan

It takes me a second to remember where I am.

Not a hospital. Not the house.

But the recovery suite. Warm. Quiet. Safe.

Because she's here. And I'm here with her.

I blink the sleep out of my eyes and stretch slowly, careful not to disturb her. She's still curled slightly to one side, face half buried in the pillow, her lips parted in soft, steady breaths.

Aurora.

I sit up, rub my hand across my jaw, and check the time.

Almost 7:00 a.m.

Her vitals monitor blinks quietly. Calm and rhythmic.

I lean down and press a kiss to her temple.

She stirs, but doesn't wake.

Good.

I slip out of bed, careful not to shift the mattress too much, and grab my hoodie from the chair. There's a kitchenette in the next room—a private luxury in this place.

I head there and whip up something simple: soft scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry jam, cut fruit in a glass bowl.

When I return, her eyes are open.

Still heavy with sleep, but watching me with that quiet little smile that wrecks me every time.

"Morning," she murmurs, voice raspy.

"Morning, princesa." I set the tray on the rolling table and push it toward her. "Made you something."

Her brows rise. "You cooked?"

"Cooked might be generous," I smirk, sitting beside her. "But yeah. I assembled."

She giggles, weak but real.

I grab the fork, scoop some egg, and hold it up.

She raises a brow. "You're feeding me now?"

"Damn right I am."

She opens her mouth and takes the bite.

I watch her chew, every little movement.

"Still good?" I ask.

She nods, smiling with her eyes. "Yeah. I missed food that wasn't lukewarm pudding."

I feed her another bite, then a piece of toast.

For a minute, it's just... quiet.

Soft.

Like nothing outside this room exists.

I brush a crumb from her lip with my thumb and watch her cheeks flush slightly.

She turns her head into my palm and kisses it.

"You okay?" she asks gently.

"I am now."

An hour later, she's dozing again—comfortably, full and warm.

I sit on the edge of the bed, brushing my knuckles over her arm.

"I have to go for a little bit," I whisper. "Only a couple hours."

Her eyes flutter open. "Where?"

"The gym," I say. "Need to check in. My father and Diego are meeting me there."

She stiffens a little. "About the shooting?"

"Yeah." I kiss her forehead. "We're meeting with someone from Staten Island. One of the Italian families."