Page 83 of Penalty Kiss
I watch her wrap herself in a towel, admiring the view and marveling at how she manages to be both incredibly sexy and perfectly practical.
"You know," I call after her, "for someone without medical training, you give excellent prescriptions."
Her laugh echoes through the bathroom. "I have hidden talents."
As I finish my shower, I realize she's accomplished exactly what she set out to do. My shoulders are loose, my mind is clear, and instead of dreading tomorrow's family confrontation, I'm looking forward to showing them the woman who's become my anchor.
Let them question my recovery. Let them worry about my cognitive function. They'll see what I see—that whatever's wrong with my brain, my heart is working just fine.
And Tara will be right there beside me, proving that some things are worth fighting for, broken brain and all.
By the time I get out of the shower, Tara's made herself at home on the bed, wearing the shirt again and scrolling through her phone. She looks up when I emerge with a towel around my waist.
"Weather's good for flying tomorrow," she says casually. "And I made us a reservation at Cedar Grounds for breakfast. Figured neutral territory might help."
I stare at her. "You already made breakfast reservations?"
"Among other things." She shows me her phone screen, which displays what looks like a detailed battle plan. "I ordered flowers for your mom, and also texted Lily to give her a heads up that you'll have family in town, or would you rather they check in at the Skyridge Hotel?”
"I would prefer they put up at Skyridge; definitely not staying across from us. And my mom's not coming. Tara, did you finally forget something?" I tease.
"Of course, I remember. The flowers are being delivered to her in Texas with a note saying you're thinking of her." She sets the phone aside and looks at me seriously. "Your family's worried about you, which means they love you. But they're also going to judge everything they see tomorrow—your living situation,your support system, your recovery progress. So we're going to show them the best version of your life here."
My throat goes tight. "We?"
"We." She pats the bed beside her. "Now come here and let me distract you from overthinking this."
I don't need to be asked twice. I drop the towel and slide into bed beside her, pulling her against my chest. She fits perfectly, like she was designed to be right here.
"What if they don't like you?" I ask quietly.
"Then they have terrible taste." Her voice is muffled against my shoulder. "But they won't. I'm very likeable."
"What if they think I'm getting worse instead of better?"
"Then we show them you're not."
"What if—"
She silences me with a kiss, soft and sure and exactly what I need. When she pulls back, her eyes are serious.
"Cam. You're going to be fine. We're going to be fine. And if your family can't see how much you've grown since you've been here, then that's their loss."
I want to believe her. And lying here in the dark, with her warm weight against my chest and the steady rhythm of her breathing, I almost do.
Tomorrow, the Wilder medical brigade descends on Cedar Falls. Tomorrow, I'll have to prove I'm not broken beyond repair.
But tonight, I have this. I have her. And for now, that's enough.
"Thank you," I whisper into her hair.
"For what?"
"For not running when things get complicated."
She lifts her head to look at me, and there's something fierce in her expression. "I don't run anymore, remember? I fight."
And looking at her—this brilliant, beautiful, dangerous woman who chose me—I almost feel sorry for anyone who tries to come between us.
