How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nathan completely ignored all my persistent assurance that I was okay and pulled his car into the parking space beside my apartment complex. Wasting no time, he quickly shut off the car and climbed out. From how harshly he slammed the door, I could tell he was still rather pissed about not being able to take me to the hospital.

 I crawled quickly out of the car after him, and once I'd straightened myself out, I found him watching me over the roof of the car with narrowed eyes.

I rested my elbows onto the top of the car, and let my eyes fan over his in amusement. "For the fifth time, Nathan, you do not have to look after me. I'm fine," I said, letting out a disbelieving chuckle.

 A voice in my head reminded me that I should really be welcoming him into my flat, not pushing him away. After all, nursing someone back to health was an oddly romantic thing to do. But I didn't feel like doing that today. It felt too real. 

 I really was hurt, and with hurt comes weakness, and I refused to willingly let myself feel weak around him. It made it feel as though he was getting into my head rather than the other way around.

"Oh really? You're fine, are you?" Nathan spat out tightly. "Since you're so fine, Sophie. Why don't I watch you walk down the street without limping?" he said, giving me a pointed look. "Go on," he urged when I remained frozen in place still. 

In fake confidence, I shrugged and straightened myself upward. "Yeah, whatever, easy peasy," I said as I pushed myself off the car.

 Nathan rushed around the car, so he was at my side in a second. I internally sighed as I felt him guidingly press his hand against my back as though I was a toddler taking their first few steps.

 Surprisingly, I managed to make a few fairly normal-looking steps. Well, yes, it was extremely painful, but that wasn't the point. The point was I was right, and Nathan was wrong. 

Still strutting along, I turned to face Nathan with a triumphantly smug grin. "See, Nathan. Look how stupid you look. I'm walking perfectly f-"

The words got stuck in my throat as my right knee suddenly buckled underneath me. I gasped and stuck my hands out, but the impact from the floor never came. Nathan snatched an arm around my waist and brought me back up straight again as though he was expecting that to happen. 

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow up my way. "You were saying?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, calm down, grandma. I'm limping, big deal. It'll be gone by morning, trust me."

"Or, it could get worse, and better yet you might never wake up because of the internal hemorrhages that could be bleeding out inside you right this minute," he snapped, a harsh frown spreading over his face.

I let out a long-exaggerated groan. "God, you're the most dramatic person I've ever met. What do I have to do to get you to shut up about this?"

"Simple – go to the hospital," he said flatly.

 I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he raised a finger to silence me. "Or you could sensibly let me sit in on you for a while. It's your choice," he stated plainly with the tilt of his head. 

Crossing my arms, I narrowed my eyes at him. Nathan, not seeming intimidated at all, stared right back.

Finally, I let out a heavy sigh. "Fine, whatever, you can come in," I grumbled. 

For the first time in a long while, I saw Nathan's mouth twitch up into something which almost resembled a smile. "Well, I was coming in anyway, but your permission is quite nice too," he said with a patronizing wink.