Page 79 of Pining for Pierce

She shakes her head. “I don’t remember.” I hold her closer, unsure whether to ask again, fearful of reminding her. It seems unfair to rake up something she can’t even remember, and I’ve just resigned myself to leaving it for now, when she whispers, “There were several reasons.”

“For you crying on Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me about them?”

“Doctor Singleton was one,” she says.

“Why? What did he do?”

“He was trying to find a patient’s records, but was looking in the wrong place. For some reason, that was my fault.”

“That sounds a little unreasonable.”

“It felt that way to me, although it wouldn’t normally have been enough to make me cry.”

“So, what tipped you over the edge?” I ask her.

“The events of the previous evening, I suppose.”

I frown, thinking back, and then realize what she’s talking about. “You mean what happened at MD’s… with Kaiden?”

She gazes up at me. “Mostly, yes. But I think it was also about you, too. I knew I’d had a lucky escape… thanks to you, but at the time, I didn’t think you liked me as anything morethan a friend. I wanted so much more than that, Pierce, and…” Tears well in her eyes and I lean in, kissing them away.

“I wanted you, too. If I’d known you were gonna cry all over your boss, I’d have found a way to tell you on Thursday night.”

She shakes her head. “Like I said to you on Saturday, I’m kinda glad you didn’t. I liked the way it worked out in the end.”

“So did I,” I say, smiling and leaning in to kiss her. She kisses me back, but I don’t let things get too heated. That’s not what we need right now, and after a few minutes, I pull back. “Sleep, if you want to,” I say, looking down at her perfect face.

She shakes her head. “I just need to be here with you.”

“I’ve got you.”

“Keep telling me that. I need to hear it.”

“I’ve got you, babe.”

She sighs against me, and despite her words, I hear her breathing change, and glance down as her eyes flutter closed.

The sleep did Harley good. By late afternoon, she’s a lot better, although her leg is really painful now. I’ve given her some Advil and taken a look. There’s a large bruise forming at the top of her thigh, spreading up over her hip.

“Is it bad?” she asks, pulling her jeans back up.

“Fairly. But the painkillers should help.”

“Do you want me to check your back?”

“No, I’m fine.” I get to my feet. “I’ll just take our jackets down to the garage, and then I’ll come back up and start the dinner.”

“Why are you taking our jackets down?” she asks.

“Because I don’t think it’s helpful to have them lying around up here, reminding us of what happened.”

She nods her head, seeing my point, and I kiss her before I head for the bedroom, collecting my jacket. The tears in the fabric are a sad reminder, but I fold it over my arm, so they don’tshow, and come back out, adding her jacket, before I blow her a kiss and head down the stairs. Our helmets are still down here, and I pick them up, too, struggling to carry everything and open the doors, although I manage it, and make my way outside.

The garage door has been open since I left here on Saturday, and I stop in my tracks when I look up and see my bike parked inside. I hadn’t realized Brady had brought it back yet, but he must have done it earlier today, without telling me, and I wander slowly inside, my eyes grazing over the twisted, mangled metal. It’s worse than I thought… worse than I dared imagine, and I drop to my knees, the jackets and helmets sliding from my arms to the floor. I don’t know where to look, or what to think, but I can’t move. I can barely breathe, and I just stare into space, fear washing over me.

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