Jessie’s apartment is exactly like I imagined it to be—a bachelor pad. A large black L-shaped couch sits in the middleof a living space and is the first thing you notice as soon as you enter. The couch faces a stone wall with a fireplace and a huge flat screen TV above it. There’s a coffee table set in front of the couch, which sits on a gray rug, the only thing that breaks up the wood-effect tiles, which run the length of the open living space and into the gray kitchen.
The place is modern and really large.
Jessie points to my coat. “You want me to take that?”
Alternating the bouquet between my hands, I shrug off my jacket and hand it to him, but as he reaches up to hook it on the back of the door, he winces.
“What’s the matter?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Jessie,” I drawl, “I’m going to be really honest with you right now.” I take a deep breath as he looks at me from a few feet away. “I should be really pissed at you for ignoring me all week.” I exhale and tuck my hair behind my ears. “But I’m too busy worrying about you. What’s going on? I heard you’re sick with the flu. You look pale, but it’s not from that, is it?”
Jessie steps forward a couple of paces, taking the bouquet from my left hand. “You’re so pissed at me that you brought me flowers?”
I quirk a brow. “They were more of an excuse to get past security since you weren’t expecting me and they wouldn’t know who I was.”
There must be only a foot separating us when I see the dark circles under his eyes.
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around—me buying you the flowers?” He smiles softly at me.
I shrug and look down at the battered yellow roses. “I saw Felicity at the florist, and she said you didn’t turn up at a game last night. She said you’d texted the boys to say you were sick.But you hadn’t replied to me, and I got worried. So, she gave me your address. I thought about leaving you alone, but I …”
When he brings a palm to the side of my face, I tingle at his touch.
“I’m okay, I promise,” he whispers. “Nothing that I haven’t been through before, Mia. I can handle it.”
“Then why did you go MIA on me again?” I ask. I close my eyes as his thumb strokes my cheek once. “Something happened back home, didn’t it?”
When I open my eyes, his tongue pokes out and slides along his bottom lip as he looks at me.
“What did I say about not pushing red buttons?” Jessie takes a step back, his hand leaving my face.
He turns to head toward the kitchen, but instinctively, I wrap an arm around his waist to stop him.
“Wait.”
Jessie shoots back and groans quietly; he tries to hide his reaction, but I don’t miss the wince as he hisses in response to my touch.
All my alarm bells go off at once.
“Jessie?”
Clearly trying to push past what just happened, he strides across to the kitchen, his hand clamped over his side as he fills up the sink and drops the flowers into the water.
“Jessie,” I repeat, and this time, my voice is serious.
He doesn’t turn around or even acknowledge me as he leans over slightly, bracing his hands on either side of the sink.
I’m across the kitchen and behind him in no time.
As I place my hand over one of his, I whisper softly, “Let me see what’s hurting. Please.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“It wasn’t a request, baby. Let me see.” The nickname I used to call him slips out before I can stop myself.
He drops his shoulders, maybe in defeat. But for once in his life, he doesn’t fight me as I slowly peel up the Dri-FIT shirt.