Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) by Lyssa Kay Adams

            “Overnight for observation.”

            “Do I have a concussion?” Elena asked.

            “Yes, but I cannot go into details with all these people here.”

            Colton snapped and pointed. “Point taken. We’re leaving.”

            One by one, the guys stopped in front of Elena to kiss her cheek and pat Vlad on the shoulder. Except Cheese Man. He just waved before ducking out. Michelle gave her a long hug, and Claud just smiled. The doctor left, too, and said he’d be back in a few minutes to discuss the results of her CT scan.

            Vlad turned Elena around his arms and then stood up on one leg. “You need to be in bed. A concussion is serious. I know these things.”

            He held her hand as she crawled onto the mattress. Then he draped the thin white blanket across her lap before sitting down in the small chair next to her bedside. Their hands laced next to her hip.

            “I love you,” she said, resting her head on the pillow.

            “I love you too.” He leaned forward and kissed her hand. “And I want us to have a real wedding.”

            “You do?”

            He looked up in time to see a happy tear roll down her cheek. “Here in America, with all our friends and my parents. I want to wait for you as you walk down the aisle, and I want to kiss you in front of everyone, and I want my mother to read a poem.”

            “Sounds like you have it all planned out,” she teased, another tear dripping onto the pillow.

            “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

            Elena smiled. “I just have one request.”

            “Anything,” Vlad said, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away her tear.

            “Can Cheese Man cater it?”





EPILOGUE


            One month later


Vlad thought it was torture when the guys were reading his words. That was nothing compared to this.

            It had been three hours since Elena had taken his manuscript with her to bed with a stern order not to bother her until she was done. He’d set his rehab back a month with his fall in the hospital, so he’d used the time to his advantage. He took care of her as she recovered from her concussion, and he finished his damn book.

            Taking care of Elena had been the harder part of the two. In the month since the incident, there had been FBI interviews and media attention and interest from literary agents who wanted to sign her to write a book about her experience and her investigation. The team’s immigration attorneys were working to make sure they didn’t violate any visa laws if she chose to do so, but it was low on Elena’s priorities. She’d already vowed that any money offered for her story would immediately go to Marta and the other women Yevgeny and his goons had hurt. Marta was now safely hidden under federal protection while Gretchen represented her claim for asylum.

            The assholes who’d taken Elena were in prison awaiting trial on charges that would ensure they never stepped foot outside a cell again. That didn’t make Vlad any less worried, though. He’d upgraded his security system and hired a bodyguard for when she left the house without him. She’d tried to argue that issue, but one look at his face, and she’d backed down.

            After all that, it should have been a breeze to have Elena read his book. It wasn’t. He was dying. He lay on the couch and flipped through the channels as the hours ticked by. Finally, her soft footsteps padded down the stairs.

            He couldn’t see her face or her expression at first when she walked into the dark room. He zapped off the TV and sat up. “Well?”

            Elena stepped into the light. Her eyes were puffy and red. “Vlad . . .” she breathed.

            “Wh-what does that mean?” He gulped.

            She crossed the room to the couch and curled up next to him. When she pressed her hand into his chest, his world tilted off its axis. It happened a lot with her. “Vlad, this is so, so good.”

            His heart leaped into this throat. “Are you lying to me?”

            “No,” she laughed. “Look at me.”

            He obeyed, but reluctantly.