[Editing]
He's the grumpy CEO of the company she works for. The very boss, no one gets enough words with before he pushes them far away. And then Sierra Bloom happens. She's the complete opposite of him, and he hates it. But something about her is w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You can't stay here, Mr. Storm."
"Yes, I can," I tell the nurse that has the audacity to tell me I couldn't spend the night at the hospital. With my wife. The one that's still in surgery since five goddamn hours.
"You have an infant with you. We can't provide that kind of space for you."
I roll my eyes and pull out my wallet from my sweatpants. Cody was kind enough to bring me some fresh clothes, even though I'm pretty sure he's hating me at the moment. "How much will it take until you shut up?"
"Hospital rooms aren't for sale."
"No, but my wife has one. And I'm willing to sleep on the floor for however long it takes until I can take her back home with me." Why does nobody understand that? Like I would leave Sierra here all by herself for what? Days? Weeks? Nah.
"With all due respect, Mr. Storm, but you should take care of your child. Your wife is in good hands here."
Now she's just making me mad. "Starting to doubt that."
"We have visiting hours. The hospital closes for visitors at 10 p.m."
"Who owns this hospital?" I ask, taking out the second phone that used to be solely for work.
The nurse, who's name I don't remember, crosses her arms, looking up at the ceiling with an bemused smile.
"I'll find out one way or another. And trust me, the second this hospital belongs to me, which will be in less than an hour if you don't open your mouth right now, I will have you fired." I'm known for firing tons of people on the daily, so that's not even a threat anymore, it's a promise.
She gasps softly, bringing a hand to her chin. "Fine. You can stay." That said, she steps away from the door of the private hospital room meant for Sierra when she gets out of the OR. Or how these nurses would like to put it "if she comes out."
She will. I won't accept anything else. Death can kiss my ass.
I sit on the armchair in the hospital room, holding Allie. She grazes the tips of her fingers over my face, being awfully touchy today. She recently discovered textures, so now she has a fun time touching everything possible.
The cheeseball is also quite fascinated by my tattoos, which is adorable. Whenever she gets a chance to see them, Allie instantly ogles them like they're the most amazing works of art she's ever seen.
Just yesterday had Sierra begged me to strip of my shirt so Allie would be distracted as she was being a little difficult. Not too much, she was just crying a lot and refused to eat.
I admit, I was considering it. But I refuse to have my daughter try to suck on my nipple again. Yes, again, because she tried to before. Most uncomfortable feeling ever.
Miss Cheeseball giggles when I stroke a hand down her head, "through" the tiny set of hair she's growing.
Despite having my daughter with me, time still doesn't seem to pass fast enough. If I had known I'd end up worrying about my wife for hours, after she got shot, I would have never gotten married.
