20. Ava

Something magical happenswhen these guys are near—the tranquility that Brody and his presence usher in wraps around me like a cocoon, shielding me from the night terrors that have plagued my sleep for as long as I can remember. With him close, the oppressive shadows of my dreams recede, replaced by a warmth that invites a peaceful slumber, filled with dreams of a tantalizingly sweet nature.

"Hello there, sleepy head." Brody's voice, a soothing baritone, gently coaxes me from the edges of sleep.

I yawn, stretching languidly, and turn to find his eyes, a vibrant echo of the sea, watching me with a tender amusement that feels like a private joke shared between us.

"How long did I sleep?" My voice is thick with sleep, betraying a hint of irritation at my lingering drowsiness and the desire to wash away the remnants of the fever that cling to me.

"About three hours," he answers, pressing the cool back of his hand against my forehead—a gesture so tender, it sends a ripple of warmth through me. "Your fever broke. I'm hoping it stays that way."

I hum my thanks, a shiver coursing through me as I become acutely aware of the sweat soaked sheets clinging to my skin. Normally, I'd be mortified by such a state, but today, embarrassment seems like a distant concern, overshadowed by the comfort of his care. "I'm all sweaty."

"I know." He chuckles, the sound light and easy, his cheeks flushed with a hint of shared embarrassment. "Would you like to shower?"

The question hangs between us, loaded with an intimacy that sends a thrill of anticipation through me. "Yeah," I reply, though my voice betrays my hesitation.

"You don't sound so sure about that." He supports his head with one hand, the action making him look endearingly vulnerable, his innocence clashing beautifully with the strength I know lies beneath.

"It's just that showers typically require one to be…naked," I tease, delighting in this newfound dynamic.

Brody's attempt to maintain his composure is endearing. "I am a professional," he asserts, though his voice wavers just a touch.

A grin spreads across my face. "A professional tasked with tending to his fated mate," I quip, wondering if he'll rise to this challenge.

The thought of his hands on me in the most innocent yet intimate of acts sends a wave of warmth cascading through me, erasing any pretense of professionalism in my mind.

"You think I can't handle seeing you naked?" His confidence surges with his bold assertion, stirring a mix of amusement and desire within me.

"I think you believe you can, but when faced with the reality, you might find it…challenging." I slide my gaze to the side and bite my lip at my own boldness.

My daring glance and bitten lip only add fuel to the fire, marking a thrilling departure from my usual self. Flirting with Brody is like stepping into a realm where I'm both more myself and someone entirely new.

"Challenge accepted," he declares, moving off the bed in a motion so swift and sure, it contrasts sharply with my own sluggish movements.

I take a moment to gather myself, sitting up and blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, while he busies himself with practical concerns, his professionalism momentarily overshadowing the playful tension between us.

"Let me get a wrap for your leg. Don't want your sutures or cast getting wet," he says, rummaging through the closet for the medical supplies.

As he searches, I swipe through my phone, catching up on messages from Eloise about the clinic and our furry friends. I feel a twinge of guilt for not checking on Bean sooner, but healing, both physically and emotionally, has consumed all my focus.

The glow from my phone casts a soft, unsettling light in the dim room. There's a message from my dad sitting there—an unwelcome guest that makes my stomach twist. My fingers linger hesitantly above the screen, as if touching it could unleash whatever chaos he's planned. Anxiety flutters in my chest, like a wild thing trying to break free.

"What's that look for?" Brody's voice slices through my unease, warm and grounding.

"It's my dad," I confess, the weight of my worries spilling out. "I can't even begin to guess why he's targeting my clinic now. It's unlike him." Or maybe it's exactly like him, and I'm just now seeing the real him.

How's that for a plot twist?

"Do you want me to read it for you?" Brody offers, crouching in front of me. Despite being hunched, his eyes meet mine directly, radiating empathy and concern. It's like he's a giant with the heart of a teddy bear. A big delicious cinnamon roll.

Part of me just wants to hand over the phone and let him deal with it. I'm not about to back down that easily, but I could use his support.

"Sit with me?" I ask instead, my voice softer now. "Read it with me?" It's not just about facing my fears, it's about not letting them isolate me.

"Of course." His simple agreement feels like a shield snapping into place beside me. He scoots close enough that our shoulders touch, offering warmth and an unspoken promise of support. With a deep breath that's more about bracing myself than anything, I tap the screen and unleash the beast.

Dad:Ava, the decision is made. You'll comply, no questions. Your clinic was reported for violations and will close by the end of the week. Time to step up and leave those animals behind. You're marrying Elijah Castellon, a man of standing. We're meeting Wednesday. Don't defy me. It's time you acted like a Thompson, not some wanderer. Be there, and accept your responsibilities.

The words hitme like a bucket of ice water, each sentence colder and more unfathomable than the last. I read through the message three times, not because I hope it'll change but because my brain refuses to accept it. Then, feeling a mix of defeat and disbelief, I hand my phone to Brody. The shock doesn't just wash over me, it seeps into every pore until I'm numb.

"Oh, Ava." Brody's arms are around me in an instant, his arms a fortress against my crumbling world. I melt into him, my tears an unspoken language that his shirt absorbs without complaint.

As my world crumbles, Brody's steady presence anchors me. His scent, a comforting blend of pine and leather, wraps around us—a tangible reminder that not everything is lost.

"I don't understand," I whisper against his neck, the confusion and hurt evident in my voice.

"I'm sorry, Ava," he murmurs, his touch wiping away the tears. "You don't deserve any of this."

"Yeah, because being the family disappointment was on my to-do list." I try to joke, but it comes out bitter. "He really believes in his own twisted version of reality."

In Brody's company, a flicker of peace stirs within me. His nearness, his scent, they ground me, reminding me of who I am beyond my father's dictates.

"Ava, I know your father's words and actions cut deep. It's hard when someone you've looked up to shows such disregard for your dreams and your essence, but remember, his vision for your life is not the path you are bound to follow. You've always had the courage to stand up for what you believe in, to be a voice for those who can't speak for themselves, and to fight for a world that's just and kind. Your strength and compassion are who you are, and no one, not even your father, can take that away from you." Brody's words are soft-spoken, causing emotions that I haven't felt in a long time to surge through me.

Comfort. Empowerment. Value. Hope. Determination.

He gives me a gentle smile, the kind that reaches his eyes, and plants a soft kiss on my temple. It's a gesture so tender, it feels like it echoes down to my soul, making me feel cherished in the most profound way.

"I know it's only been a few days," he murmurs, his voice enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth. "But you have a family here with us. We see you, Ava, for the incredible person you are. We're with you every step of the way. Whatever comes, we'll face it together. You're not alone in this. You never will be." His words are a balm, soothing and overwhelming all at once. They are a promise that fills the room, making the air around us feel charged with new energy.

As comforting as his words are, though, I don't feel quite ready to unravel the emotions they stir within me. However, a distraction may be exactly what I'm looking for.

"Will you help me shower?" I blurt out.