Ivy
To say my mate is beyond stubborn is an understatement.
The doctor looks as if he has aged ten years in just the last hour. He's been pacing the length of the room with a clipboard clutched in his hand, trying—and failing—to convince Ronan to stay for further observation.
Does Ronan listen to him? Of course not.
He’s already up, shirtless, with his jeans pulled up over his hips. The IV was long gone, yanked out by his own hand and tossed carelessly onto the tray beside the bed. I managed to talk him into letting me wrap it for the time being to stop the bleeding. But that was as much as he was going to give anyone right now.
His bare feet are planted firmly on the tile, his stance wide and steady like he’s preparing to walk out the door and straight into battle any second. Th
