His ribs were bandaged, his head swathed like a mummy, a slight pink cast to part of the white. His face was a mass of scratches and his legs were cov...red in road rash."Buddy," she said quietly. "You look like shit. You've got to wake up; the press wants to make you a hero for getting run down by a car. You can't let all those women out there see you like this. It's bad for the image, Dean." A sob shook her shoulders and she sank down on the small chair next to the bed, her hand lying on his. You know, the two of us.”“I’d like that.”“Good.”“What about somewhere quieter right now?”“Huh?” I ask, sheepishly.“The bedrooms upstairs are surprisingly soundproof, and I know at least one of the guys is at his girl’s place tonight.”“Oh,” I say, trying to arrest the widening of my eyes before my dopey appearance eradicates the appeal I seem to be otherwise exuding. With an unfamiliar smile whose charm I can feel on my face, I say “Yeah. I’d like that.”She stands up again, pulls me to my feet,. More

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