Page 23 of Heart Strain

I think he can tell that I’m upset and in need of a breather, so I nod. “Yeah, let’s go so we can pick up your babies.” I stand up, making his hand drop, and I shoot a smile over my shoulder at him before bending down and kissing Drix’s forehead, then whispering in his ear, “I love you, Drix. Please wake up. I promise I’ll be around more if you do. That is… if you want me.” I give his forehead another little kiss, then move out of the way so Jameson can say whatever it is he says to him every time we leave the room. When he’s done, I squeeze my brother’s ankle as we pass the foot of the bed, then we head out.

As soon as we walk out of the hospital, it’s like I can breathe a little easier. I hate that I feel that way, but seeing him like that is really putting a strain on me. I glance at Jameson, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, and I know it’s putting a strain on both of us.

I shoulder-bump him, then smile when he looks at me and ask, “Did you think of names yet?”

“I can’t decide, so I’m hoping it’ll click once I see them again.”

“What are you thinking?”

He shakes his head and this adorable lopsided smile spreads over his lips—and I want to lick them. Thank god he can’t hear my thoughts, and he continues the conversation as if I’m not perving on him, “I’m not telling you.”

“Why?” I ask and can’t help the small laugh that bubbles out as we reach his car.

“You’ll make fun of me,” he says before jumping into the driver’s seat.

I hop in after him. “No I won’t. You’d be surprised by the names I hear at work.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Um… the only one coming to mind right now are these two black dogs. They’re brothers and their owner named them Dip and Shit.”

He chuckles. “One of them is really named Shit?”

I nod. “Yes. Can you imagine if you were at a dog park yelling ‘Come on, Dip, Shit! Let’s go, Shit!’ at the top of your lungs? Ridiculous.”

He laughs as we make our way through the parking garage. “Fine. I’ll tell you if you promise not to laugh.”

“I promise.”

“I think my favorite names I’ve thought of are Simba and Nala.”

A huge grin spreads over my face. “From The Lion King?”

“It’s one of my favorite movies.” He says it so seriously, that an accidental laugh bubbles out before I can stop it, so I put my hand over my mouth, and he shoots me a glare. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh!”

I try really hard not to laugh again, but I can’t seem to control it, and he pushes my shoulder, which only makes me laugh harder. He cracks a smile and I manage to get out, “I promised not to laugh at the names, not at your movie choices.”

“What’s wrong with The Lion King?”

“Nothing.” I chuckle. “I just can’t stop picturing this big, muscly man sitting on the couch crying over Mufasa, and then replaying the movie over again because it’s so good and starting the process over.”

He laughs, but pushes me again. “Asshole. I never said I cry over it.”

I gasp. “Then you’re heartless! How could you not cry over that movie?”

He shakes his head with a smile. “You better stop making fun of me.”

“Why? What’re you gonna do?”

“Pull the car over and leave you on the corner with a Free sign attached to you.”

I gasp again. “See? Heartless!” With a chuckle, I push his shoulder and try not to groan at the hard muscle I feel, but he doesn’t even budge. He shoots me a cocky grin that I roll my eyes at. “Anyway, those are cute names.”

“Uh huh, right. I’m going to think of something else.”

“Why? I like them.”

“You just made fun of me for five minutes straight over them.”

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