Page 155 of A Little Crush
“Love you, too.”
“Come here.” I pull her into my lap until she’s straddling me and kiss her forehead, anxious to touch her. To make sure she’s still here and hasn’t given up on me, even after all the shit we went through tonight. “How are you?”
“Tired.”
“What else?”
She shrugs. “Just tired.”
Tired? That’s it? That’s all she has to say?
“Did you, uh, did you see what time it is?” I push. I don’t know if I’m shooting myself in the foot by bringing it up, but I can’t help myself. She thinks I don’t notice the way she still wakes up every morning, but I do. And she can hide it all she wants, battle it all she wants, but I know how much of an effect early mornings bother her. Knowing it somehow slipped past her today is huge.
With a frown, Rory shakes her head, and I show her my phone.
Lips parted, she breathes in a sharp breath of air but stays quiet.
5:48 a.m.
She missed it. Or made it? I’m not sure which term is more fitting.
Her gaze flicks to mine. “I didn’t notice,” she whispers. “I didn’t…the hospital kind of sucked up all the time, and I didn’t notice.”
“Rore, that’s amazing,” I point out. “This is a huge win. How are you feeling?”
“Torn.” She hesitates. “And elated? And confused.” Her smile wavers before she focuses on me. “Jax, I haven’t not stared at the clock and counted down the seconds to 5:34 in the morning since the accident.” Another long pause hangs between us while she tries to wrap her head around the monstrosity of this moment. “And I know it’s a good thing, that it slipped past my radar, but…holy shit.” A tear slips past her defenses, rolling down her cheek before she wipes it away. “I can’t decide if I feel hopeful about this or…” She gives me a watery but relieved smile. “Jaxon, I made it past 5:34.”
“I know, Beautiful.” I pull her against me. “I know.”
A relieved laugh bubbles out of her as she sits up again and touches her cheeks to cool her heated skin.
“You’re killing it,” I say, encouraging her. “Kicking OCD in the ass.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” she challenges. “Because it feels like I’m floundering around most of the time.”
“Nothing wrong with a little floundering.” I grab her hands, lowering them from her face. “Speaking of OCD and wins. You went to the hospital today.,” I remind her. “You. The girl who would’ve rather lived with a dislocated shoulder for the rest of her life than step one foot inside a hospital went straight into that building today with her head held high. That’s huge.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear, fighting back tears as if just now feeling the gravity of today’s events. “I mean…it’s Poppy. She needed me to put on my big girl pants, so I did.”
“Which is huge,” I repeat. “Because there’s no way it wasn’t hard for you, but you still did it. Rore, that’s amazing.”
Mouth bunching on one side, she gives a half-assed nod. “I’m just glad she’s okay.”
“Me, too.”
“I was thinking about it, though. And…” Her fingers dance along my T-shirt. “Even with today’s win with the time and the hospital, I think…I think I should go back to therapy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She hesitates. “When I first started watching Poppy, I could tell I was having more intrusive thoughts. And I thought I was okay, but I think…” Her lashes flutter as if she’s fighting a battle only she can see. “I think it would be good to kind of get a tune-up, you know?”
“Yeah, I think it’s great.” I hold her waist and kiss her, grateful for her honesty. “Can I do anything to help?”
Her smile is genuine when she shakes her head, seemingly present again. “I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“Okay.” I drag my hand along her spine, loving the way she melts into me more and more with every sweep of my touch. “How’s your arm? I know Iris grabbed you?—”
“I’m fine. Honestly, she’s lucky I didn’t deck her.” She smirks before hiding it behind her hand as if she feels guilty for finding the interaction amusing. “Shoving her back was like a reflex. I kind of feel bad, though. Should I apologize?”
