Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 164

Chapter 164

Lola

The room was too quiet. Not peaceful–never peaceful–but the kind of quiet that pretended to be. Silence layered over exhaustion, the aftertaste of shouting and fists, pretending to be rest when it was really just waiting.

The TV threw soft light across the walls, Netflix’s red–and–blue glow flickering over the curtains. The hum of the AC filled the gaps between her breaths.

She woke groggy, her ribs gnawing with every inhale, and found Nico in the chair by the window. Boots still on. Gun still holstered. He wasn’t asleep. He wasn’t even close. He sat there like stone, shoulders squared, jaw tight enough to shatter enamel.

Her throat burned dry. “Hey.”

His head turned instantly. “Hey.”

The word was low, rough, but gentler than it had been at the table. He stood, set the remote down, crossed toward her with that heavy kind of stillness only Nico carried.

“Pain?” he asked.

“Only when I breathe, move, or think,” she said, lips curving faintly. “So basically all the time.”

His mouth twitched–almost a smile, but not quite. “Pills?”

“Not yet. If Enzo’s mom walks back in and I’m drooling, I’ll lose daughter–in–law points.”

That nearly drew a grin. Nearly. But he stayed standing, stiff, boots planted.

She tipped her head at the bed. “Lie down. Please. Just for a while.”

For a second, he hesitated. Then he moved–boots tugged off, gun set on the nightstand with a heavy thud. He stretched out carefully on top of the covers, still stiff, like the mattress might shatter under him.

Lola ignored the pain and inched over–hip, ribs, shoulder–until she could tuck herself into his side. His arm came around her automatically, steady and sure.

His heartbeat under her ear was strong.

God, I needed steady.

“John Wick?” he asked after a beat. “Third one?”

She huffed a laugh that stabbed her ribs. “You’re sick. You want me to watch a man get shot eighty times when I can barely sit up?”

“We could watch the cooking guy. The one who salts like he’s trying to drown the world.”

“John Wick,” she decided. “If I’m going down, it’s with Keanu.”

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14:33 Wed, Oct 8

Chapter 164

He hit play, kept the volume low, subtitles on. Neon rain flickered over the room.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Just his chest rising steady under her cheek, his thumb moving slow circles on her shoulder. The world could’ve been burning outside and she wouldn’t have cared.

“Slide’s wrong,” Nico muttered eventually.

“What?”

“The gun. Slide locks too soon. They cut it to hide reloads. Looks clean, but it’s wrong.”

“You’re unbearable.”

His mouth tugged faintly. “Says the girl who corrected a CSI tech on blood spatter.”

“I was right.”

“You were.” His tone softened. “You usually are.”

She smiled against him. “Say it again.”

He sighed, but didn’t stop tracing her shoulder. “You’re usually right.”

Keep talking like that and I’ll live forever.

The movie rolled on. She praised the suits. He nitpicked the choreography. Once, she laughed hard enough to make her ribs scream, and felt the vibration of his half–laugh under her cheek.

“You should sleep,” he murmured eventually, thumb brushing her collarbone. “You’re still gray around the mouth. Not a good sign.”

“I hate that you know that.”

“I hate that you make me know it.”

Her head tipped enough to catch his eyes. “You’re bossy.”

“You’re worse.”

There was a pause. Just the hum of the AC, the flicker of neon against the curtains, the steady rise of his chest under her cheek.

Then, lower, quieter–his lips close enough to stir the strands of her hair-

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