Page 52 of Heart Strain

“Sure.”

I take a breath and glance at him. “Can you… will you promise to take care of yourself? I already have one person I care about in the hospital. I don’t want another in there, too.”

He’s quiet for a moment, so I turn to him and find him sneaking looks my way every few seconds, so when he sees me staring, he says, “I promise, I’m fine.”

I nod, then grab a green pepper from him and decide to lighten the mood. “The next time you miss a meal, I’m going to make you eat only broccoli for an entire day.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Message received, you heathen.”

I chuckle, then knock my shoulder into him before moving to the cutting board.

“What exactly are you making?”

“I’m just gonna throw together a stir fry since it’s quick.”

“Do you like cooking?”

“Sometimes. I don’t really like cooking for only me, but it’s nice to cook for both of us.”

He smiles at me. “It is nice. We should try doing it more often. Maybe we could even cook something and take it up to Drix so he can have a home-cooked meal.”

“That’s a great idea! Do you think the nurses would let us use the microwave? We could cook extra right now, and he could have it for lunch or something tomorrow. He loves stir fry. Well, not tofu, but hopefully he won’t mind.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Anything’s better than hospital food.”

He chuckles and it’s such a sweet sound, one I’ve come to love hearing, one I’ve started to associate with home and comfort.

I blink in surprise at the thought. This whole time, I’ve been thinking that it’s his house that feels like home, but that’s not it… it’s him. It’s Jameson. He feels like home in this place I’ve never felt accepted in.

“What?” he whispers.

I smile at him and shake my head. “Can you cut that onion without cutting yourself?”

“I’m not an invalid.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face, and I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

Maybe… maybe being with Jameson would be okay. Maybe it could be even better than what we have now. Maybe I could tell him he’s only allowed in the kitchen if he’s naked.

“Holds?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Your head’s been in the clouds all day.”

I shoot him a smile. “I’m good.” And I am. Because I’m here. With him.

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