Carefully, I lie her on the pull-out couch that’s already been prepared, rest her head right against the pillow, and cover her up with a Frozen blanket that she must have left here months ago. The bruises on her arm are illuminated from the TV and I can’t look away.
The sink turns off and I hear a whispered curse that has me grinning from ear to ear. It shouldn’t, but he is so ornery when he can’t do what he wants and right now, he can’t move how he wants.
I hear the click of the crutches and when he comes around the corner, my eyes drop to his bare chest, my cheeks blushing when I see that defined V.
“Alicia,” he sounds surprised to see me. “Sorry, I wanted to try to prepare things more.”
It stings when I don’t hear him call me Mama, but that’s why I shouldn’t have expectations. We aren’t anything. I’m not his little Hot Mama anymore and he isn’t my Handsome Bear.
A name I only ever called him in private.
A name I haven’t called him since weeks before we broke up.
Missing someone you can’t have hurts so much more than missing someone while they are gone, because at least you know they will come back.
The object of my desire is right in front of me, and I can’t touch him.
I’m right in front of him and I miss him.
“No, things are fine. Thank you for setting up the bed for her. She has her favorite blanket here. I’ve been looking for it.”
“I should have told you it was here, but I didn’t want to,” he admits as he hops closer.
He winces, the pain clear across his face, and a crutch slips out from under him. I dash around the modern leather couch and grunt when I take his weight.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’m so tired and sore.”
“You shouldn’t be up. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” I help him to the king-sized mattress, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I inhale the scent of him. He smells like lavender, which is so different than the rest of the guys. It’s his body wash.
He says it relaxes him, but honestly, when I smell it on his skin, it takes all my stress away. It isn’t the lavender. I’ve smelled that a hundred times. It’s because it’s on his skin. His tanned, masculine skin. Hard with muscle, soft with love, and he’s always so warm.
When we get to the bed, I have to lean in close to grab the crutches from him and I get a big whiff of that damn scent. My fingers accidentally brush against his sides as I wrap my hands around the metal contraptions. I lean them against the wall next to the nightstand and gasp when I see the photo of us still there.
I want to ask about it.
I’m afraid to ask about it because what if he forgot it was there?
“Holy hell, it feels good to sit down.”
I turn around to see the bed dipping under his weight. I look closer, moving past his biceps and abs, and focus on his face. He has another black eye patch on his eye, but what catches my attention is how pale he seems and the dark circle under his good eye.
Before I can think, I lift his chin with my fingers, and he winces. That golden brown eye blinks at me with more emotion than I can handle. “How much pain are you in?”
“Enough,” he grunts as he leans back, throwing an arm over his face. “My entire body is sore.”
He leans back slowly, then suddenly jerks up. “Fuck!” His eye waters. “My god, that stunned me.”
“Flip over,” I tell him, circling my finger in the air.
“Why?”
“Just do it.” I roll my eyes at him, and he uses his good leg to flip himself over.
“Oh my god. Holy shit.” I cover my mouth in horror and my heart hurts so much with what he had to go through today. I bet the entire time he was up there, holding on for Kimmy, he was in pain. “Your back is black and blue, Quin. Jesus.” My hand trembles as I reach for his abused skin. “I can’t believe water caused this much damage.”
“Honestly, I barely felt it when it happened, but I guess I hit hard. They’re surprised I don’t have internal bleeding, because apparently from the height I fell, hitting water from that distance is like hitting concrete. I fucking feel it now. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“You look like you have,” I grumble, hoping he didn’t hear me. “I was going to rub your neck, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. God, Quin.” I bury my face in my hands when I see how bad it is, when I feel how bad it could have been. “You could have died. You have a damn cast on your ankle. Your ribs are bruised. There is no way you can sleep on your back now. I’m staying. I don’t give a fuck what Arrow says. You need someone here. Tomorrow, you’re going to be in more pain—”
I didn’t notice when he turned over, but he managed to somehow. The hot cloak of his hands over mine soothe the panic.
“I’m okay. Look at me. I’m here.”
“Both of you could have died today.” I hold one hand over my heart. The thought is too painful. “I don’t know what I would have done.”
“I never in my life would have let anything happen to Kimmy. You understand? Look at me and tell me you understand,” he orders, his strong hands moving to my cheeks. “Look at me, Mama.”
I didn’t realize I closed my eyes. It takes all my strength to open them, and when I look at him, when I see his face and those lips, my world is righted.
He has an unnatural amount of sway over me and as much as I love it, I fear it.
I don’t know how to get over that.
“I’m okay. Kimmy is okay. It was terrifying and I’m not kidding, I thought I was going to die.”
My lip trembles. “That doesn’t help.”
He laughs. The jerk. “I’m sorry, but you want to know what I thought about? It will make you laugh.”
“What?” I sniffle.
“I thought about sharks and how falling from a Ferris wheel has got to be on the lower end of possibilities on ways to die.”
An ugly bark of laughter leaves me, and I throw a hand over my lips, then snort, which only makes me laugh harder.
He begins to laugh too. “Hey, stop with the snorting. You know what it does to me.” He presses a hand against his side, but I can’t stop.
I snort again and have to sit on the side of the bed because I don’t have the strength to stand anymore. “I can’t. I can’t stop. You’re right. You have to be the only person in existence threatened by a falling Ferris wheel.”
Both of us laugh to the point we have tears dripping down our cheeks. It feels good to laugh. He knew I would. I wipe my face with my shirt and sigh, then steal a peek at Quin, who is staring at me with… so much love.
Love I want.
Love I crave.
Love I need.
But not just anyone’s love.
His love.
“I’ve missed your laugh,” he admits, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I know we’re working on things, but it just felt good to hear it.”
“I know. I’m going to be honest with you. I want you to listen, don’t say anything yet.”
He opens his mouth, but I place my fingers on his lips.
“Not a word,” I warn.
He nods, kissing the pads of my fingers. An electric charge slips through my veins.