*Storm POV*

at on the couch with my leg propped up on a pillow, wincing in pain as I tried to adjust my position. Scott walked into the room with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers, and I couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for his help, despite the fact that he was usually so arrogant and self-centered.

He set the glass and bottle down on the coffee table and sat down next to me, gently taking my injured ankle in his hands. I winced again as he touched it, but his touch was surprisingly gentle and caring.

“I’m sorry you’re in pain,” he said softly,...