Forever Nine

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

I dozed on the way home. It wasn’t a long trip, maybe fifteen minutes, but the lull of tires on pavement, the soft hum of the quite radio, and Holden’s presence made my slightly high brain too comfortable not to sleep. I woke up only when Holden opened my door and I realized we were home. He wouldn’t let me get down from the truck without his help, even though I tried to push away his hands.

I was self-sufficient. I didn’t need him to help.

Even if the feel of Holden’s hands on my body felt exactly right.

But he made a noise, half-grunt, half-growl, and I let my hands fall. He helped me down, then wrapped an arm around my waist, tucking me into his side. If I hadn’t been so out of it, I wouldn’t have pointed out how well I fit against him. But I was out of it, so I just leaned against him, let him hold me up, and direct us up the steps.

It wasn’t until he opened the door and it was backward that I realized we were at his place and not mine.

“Hey, wait. I live over there.” I gestured sloppily to the left.

“Jesse, do you really think I’m going to let you stay by yourself tonight?”

I squinted up at him. “Um, yes. Yes, I do.”

He scowled, which I shouldn’t find hot, but I totally did. “Nope. Try again. You had surgery, Jess. You need help.”

“It was little surgery. Not big surgery. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” I tried to pull away, but he was much stronger, and if I fought too hard, I might hurt myself.

“It was major abdominal surgery,” he corrected, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Even if it was, what did you call it, ‘minimally invasive.’ I have the instruction sheets right here, and you’re gonna be seriously hurting for at least a couple of days. Someone needs to help. So unless you want to call one of your siblings or your parents, you’re stuck with me.”

I shuddered. “God, no. Don’t want to call them. But I don’t want to be a burden.” I frowned. “Well, any more than I already have been. Asking you to come get me. I didn’t expect you to take care of me afterward.”

“Yeah, well. That’s what I do. So can you just let me?”

I was going to argue. I was. But the fact was, I’d called him for a reason. I wanted him to be there for me. I wanted him to care for me. And even though taking care of me after surgery wasn’t what I had in mind, I’d take it. At least for a day or two. Just to see what it was like. Until I could convince him I was fine on my own.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” he muttered, his voice low. He probably hadn’t meant for me to hear it, but I was practically smooshed against his chest. There was no way I couldn’t hear it.

“I mean it. I’ve always meant it. You just don’t believe me.”

He froze halfway in the house, and looked at me with shock all over his face. It didn’t last long. After only a few seconds, that neutral mask was back in place. He shook his head. “It must be time for another pain pill. You shouldn’t be this coherent.”

“They aren’t that strong. At least, not enough to really get me high. Which is a shame, really.” I laughed at the look he shot me. “I’m kidding, Holden. I don’t do drugs. I barely even drink. You know that.”

Holden didn’t seem to think that required a comment and he resumed our trek into the house, down the hall, and into a bedroom.

I knew it was Holden’s room the moment we walked in. Not only did it smell like him—citrus and smoky—but it felt like him. Warm and dominating. The furniture was big, and everything was done in dark browns with splashes of color—in the art on the walls, in the red sheets, and in the throw rug on the hardwood floor. My body relaxed as I took it all in, and it wasn’t until he was trying to settle me on the huge bed that my brain kicked in.

“No, this is your room and I can’t take your bed.”

He looked at me with a placating smile. “It’s the only bed in the house. The guest room is used for…other things.”

I had an idea what those other things were, but I wasn’t going to bring it up now. I knew he’d just shut me down. “Then I’ll take the couch.”

“Like hell you will.” I saw a hint of anger rising and part of me felt awful at displeasing him. But most of me was gearing up for a fight.

“Then I’ll go home. I’m not taking your bed.” I tried to sit up, but he placed a firm, warm hand on my chest. I could have moved, since he wasn’t holding me down exactly, but it would have been a struggle and that could tear my brand new stitches.

“It’s not taking if I give it to you. Now lie down, or I’ll tie you down.”

I sighed heavily, giving in. But only because I was suddenly too tired to do anything else. “Empty promise, that.”

Holden sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. “Jesus, kid.”

“Not a kid,” I spat, closing my eyes. I was done with this. I’d just sneak out after I got my strength back.

The mattress dipped, and I felt Holden loom over me. I cracked open my eyes enough to see his expression. There was confusion there, but also heat. And something else I couldn’t name.

“I know you’re not. Believe me, I know.” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. Gentle even. He gave me a small smile. “After you’re feeling better, and have been off the drugs for a couple of days, we’ll talk about that.”

I was stunned. Absolutely and completely gobsmacked. I’d told him before what I wanted from him, and he’d blown me off. We’d been dancing around each other for four years, building a friendship even if he kept me from getting too close. And now, with me recovering and on painkillers, now was the time he said something.

A hundred things rushed through my brain. A thousand snarky comebacks I longed to fling at him. But as I really looked at him, I finally saw what I’d been craving for the entire time I’d known him.

“I’m going to hold you to that, sir.”

His eyes flashed, and he gave me a wicked grin before his expression softened. He stood, pulled the blanket over me, then brushed back my hair with a fleeting touch.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours for more medicine and something to eat, all right?”

The smell of him enveloped me, his bed cradling my body, and I was asleep before I could gather the wherewithal to answer.