Page 105 of The Hookup
“I know you can, I’m not implying otherwise.” She had still come through for him when any other woman in her shoes would have told him to go to hell. His entire opinion of her had changed the more he had gotten to know the real her. She had it all—the looks, the chutzpah, the heart of a saint and the body of a Greek goddess.
And she cared about him.
She was his path to redemption and she didn’t even know it.
“I love you being here, I really do, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.”
“The doctor said it was fine, and I trust his judgement over yours.”
“Which doctor?”
“Dr. Santini, at the hospital.”
He frowned. The dark-haired guy he’d seen before his surgery? “When did you get talking to him?”
“At the hospital. He said you’d be safe after a week, they only add in the extra days as a precautionary measure. And since I’m not pregnant, and we don’t have kids, there’s no big problem. You should be thankful I came.”
“I am. I am. You have no idea,” he said quickly, not wanting to push her away. While he didn’t want her to become ill on account of him, if the doctor said it was safe, he wasn’t going to argue about it. “I’m really, really glad you came. I haven’t even heard from Marie.”
“That’s because she’s in Miami, checking out some potential properties you told her to look at.” She peered at him, craning her neck forward. “Didn’t you know? You’re the one who sent her.”
He swiped his hand over the back of his neck. “Right,” he said, nodding, “I keep forgetting a whole heap of things.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, putting her bag down and walking over to him.
“Yeah,” he replied, taking in the sight of her, because it was so welcome, after so many days of almost solitary confinement.
“I love that you came,” he said, not bothering to rein in his words. She cared, and she was doing this for him in spite of all the bullshit he’d given her.
She looked momentarily puzzled.
“What?” he asked, wondering what he’d said.
“That’s way too cheesy, especially for you.”
“But Idolove that you’re here.”
“Only because the doctor said.”
“You didn’t have to come, though.” So, by his deduction, she had come because she had wanted to, only she wasn’t going to say it. He was about to remind her that she had a lot going on at work, and he knew she was ducking and diving to slice time out for him, time she didn’t owe him and yet, here she was. But he didn’t say any of that. It wasn’t his intention to get into any type of disagreement with her. He was grateful for her company and as much as he wanted to fix things, he wasn’t quite sure she did. She was here in the capacity of a Florence Nightingale, not as someone he’d been intimate with, and while sex or intimacy were the furthest things from his mind, he was eager to talk, to plan for the future, to try and figure out if they even had a future.
“Marie’s away for a few days, and Dr. Santini said you’d been alone for over a week—”
“Do you have a hotline to Dr. Santini?” he asked, something uncomfortable settling in his belly.
A flicker of indignation crossed her face. “He was your consultant. I needed to know what I was letting myself in for.”
“Letting yourself in for?”
“Are we going to have a disagreement again?” she asked, looking none too pleased.
“No. We’re not.” He needed to drop this like a hot stone. She was here. For him. He had to remember that the past didn’t have any say in his future and he had to stop acting like it did.
He still felt like shit. The metallic taste still lingered in his mouth, and he didn’t feel his usual self. Maybe he never would feel completely 100%, and that was something he was going to have to deal with. But he smelled like shit too, and hadn’t bothered to shower today. If he’d known she would be coming over, he would have made a concerted effort to clean up.
“Good,” she said, appraising him as she lifted her head. “You don’t look too good,” she said, walking towards him. “It’s fine,” she said, when he put his hand out in front, trying to halt her.
“I feel like shit,” he confessed.
