20. Oz
CHAPTER TWENTY
OZ
He slept on and off but nowhere near as solid as Ridge was. If he hadn’t been wearing his processors, he would have felt the rumble of the man’s snores they were so loud. It was like someone had hit the Off button on him, and Oz was jealous because he could never, ever fall asleep that fast.
It was also a mark of how tired Ridge must have been because when Oz slipped out of the bed, he didn’t stir. Normally, he sat up the second Oz’s breathing changed. He fought off a wave of guilt for being the reason Ridge was like this.
But that was relationships, he supposed. It wasn’t just good dates and bad ones. It was all the complications in between. It was rolling over to show off a tender underbelly and trust that your partner wasn’t going to stab you there.
That was harder for Oz, considering everything. He’d trusted his parents until they made it clear they never had his best interests at heart. He’d trusted Darcy until he realized she was manipulating him to get the life she wanted, what he needed be damned. And for so long, he’d believed he’d failed her. But now he realized that was part of her emotional torment. She’d wanted him to feel that way so he’d always come crawling back.
He had a lot to work through, but he was determined to do it.
His original plan had been to get through therapy before he and Ridge made it official, but he supposed that near-death experiences tended to put a wrench in normal, everyday relationship plans. Now, he just had to hope that Ridge would be patient with him.
Oz didn’t know how to put himself first. He didn’t know how to prioritize not only what he needed but what he wanted without feeling like a selfish monster. And he didn’t quite know how to let Ridge spoil him the way the man wanted to.
That would be the hardest part of all. Accepting it. Accepting that he deserved it.
But he was going to do his best. Ridge deserved that at the very least.
Slipping away from the bed, Oz headed into the guest bathroom in hopes that Ridge would sleep a little longer. He emptied his bladder, then attempted to wash his unbound hand, which was tricker than he expected.
When he was done, he chanced a look in the mirror and grimaced. He had a sizable bruise forming on the right side of his jaw and a little scrape right above it. He could already feel the twinge of the road rash under his shirt, and he realized he was still wearing his filthy clothes.
Oh God, he’d climbed into Ridge’s bed all dirty from the street?
He shuddered and wandered into the kitchen in search of water. As he passed the counter, he saw a small collection of paperwork and two pill bottles. His memory of the hospital was foggy from both the shock and the drugs, but he vaguely recalled Ridge swinging him by the pharmacy before heading out to get his car.
He toyed with the tops of the bottles. He was in a decent amount of pain, and it all seemed to be flowing from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. Like he’d been hit by a bus.
Or a car, as it were.
“Hey, baby.”
Oz turned at the sound of the sleep-roughened voice of his boyfriend. God, that word made him shiver. Ridge was leaning against the archway, looking rumpled and soft and sweet.
“I was trying not to wake you.”
Ridge made the face he always made when he let out a low hum. He was too far for Oz to catch it, but he pushed away from the wall and walked over, tugging Oz close with two very warm palms against his waist. “I’d rather be awake if you are.”
Oz tilted his face up and was rewarded with the kiss he so desperately wanted. Ridge’s lips were soft and pliant, his tongue wet and a little sour, but Oz realized he didn’t mind at all. He was growing addicted to the taste of him, to the rough feeling of his scruff, to the strength in his grasp as he held Oz in ways Oz had never been held before.
“Did…enough…”
Oz missed most of what Ridge asked and frowned. “Repeat?”
‘Did you get enough rest?’ Ridge asked him in sign.
Oz felt something tingling up his spine. It was a sort of satisfaction of knowing that his partner could and would switch to whatever language Oz needed without missing a beat. There were no pulling faces or making a big show of it. He didn’t need to be coerced or asked twice.
He wished his arms weren’t in so much pain, but it did allow him to be grateful for his CIs for the first time in a good, long while.
“I think so,” he answered, stepping away. He glanced at his pill bottles again before looking over at Ridge.
‘Pain?’
Oz nodded. “I thought it would be this arm.” He waved his crooked elbow that was pinned by the sling. “But it’s everywhere.”
“Baby,” Ridge said aloud, stepping close again, “you were hit by a car. From what I saw from the scene, the road beat up your entire body. It’s going to hurt.”
“Yeah. Also—” He grimaced. “—I got into your bed in my filthy clothes.”
Ridge snorted and rolled his eyes. “I can change the sheets, baby. That’s nothing. But a shower might feel good. And maybe a massage.”
Oz was a little worried a massage might make him feel worse, but maybe with a muscle relaxer? “Can I shower even though I’m all scraped up?”
“No open wounds,” Ridge told him, nipping at his jaw. “Why don’t you let me join you. I’ll get you washed up, and then if you need help getting dressed, I can do that too.”
It all seemed too much, but Oz supposed too much for him was enough for other people. He needed to let this happen. He deserved the TLC.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Ridge smiled like that was the best answer in the world and took Oz by the chin, kissing him again. “I’ll make up some soup after. You can take a pill, and if you feel up for it, I’ll rub you down.”
Oz shivered and nodded, leaning in to rest his body against Ridge’s. A shower sounded wonderful, but this ? This was heaven. Ridge rocked him gently from side to side until Oz felt himself relax, and then he pulled back and took his hand, lifting it to his lips.
They were soft over his sore knuckles, and his aching wrist, and his battered palm. “Come on.”
Oz wasted no time following him back into the bedroom, then into the bathroom. It was large and very tidy, and the lights weren’t overly bright, which Oz appreciated. He let Ridge lead him to sit on the closed toilet lid, then started the water before walking back to unstrap Oz from his sling.
“You’re good at that.”
“Training,” Ridge said, then bit his lip as he threaded the strap through the metal loops. With a couple of tugs, it went loose, and Oz ducked his head so Ridge could pull it away from his body. The moment the support was gone, all the pain in his shoulder increased, and he hissed. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
Oz shook his head. “No, no. It’s fine.” He didn’t try to flex anything. He kept his arm cradled against his body except when he had to let Ridge maneuver his shirt off him. He expected that to hurt too, but Ridge used all of his trained skills to peel away Oz’s clothes without jostling him too much.
Ridge grinned and kissed his forehead before stepping back to strip, not that there was a lot to remove. His boxers hit the floor, and then he was naked and half-hard, though he didn’t seem aware of it. Or he was good at pretending.
Oz felt himself stiffen a little despite the pain, but he ignored it in favor of taking Ridge’s hand and walking a step forward.
“Waterproof?” Ridge asked, touching his magnet.
Oz shrugged. “Technically, yeah, but I don’t like to keep them on in the shower.” And frankly, he was ready for more silence. He reached up and carefully plucked them from his head, adjusting to the sudden, total loss of sound.
It was like a heavy blanket resting around his shoulders—comforting and safe. He breathed out, then smiled.
‘Okay?’ Ridge asked.
Oz nodded, then gestured for Ridge to get under the water before him. He watched as the stream began to flow over Ridge’s cut body. His hair plastered to his head, tiny streams running down his cheeks, over his shoulders, down his abs.
Oz didn’t look lower than that. Not yet. Instead, he stepped past the door and let Ridge close it for him.
The water was a godsend on his aching skin. It stung where he was scraped up, and there were more places than he remembered the nurses getting clean. But it felt good to wash away the last remnants of that afternoon, and Ridge’s hands were very tender and very careful with him.
He used his palms instead of a loofah, lathering thick soap between them and then gently washing Oz from neck to toes. When Ridge was on his knees, going for the backs of his thighs, Oz couldn’t help it. He thickened and throbbed at the sight of his boyfriend like that. He could picture his mouth opening, his tongue heavy and warm surrounding his cock.
‘Baby,’ Ridge signed, fingers brushing his chin. ‘Do you want me to make you come?’
Oz swallowed heavily. ‘I don’t know.’ That was a lie. ‘Yes,’ he amended, ‘but I’m afraid it’s going to hurt if I tense up.’
Ridge nodded and bypassed his dick entirely as he stood up. He rinsed his hands, then eased Oz under the spray and, with wide, sweeping motions, helped the water rinse the soap down the drain. He didn’t bother with his hair, which Oz was grateful for. Instead, he reached past and turned the water off, then grabbed a towel and began to gently pat him dry.
“Hurts,” Oz said aloud when Ridge dabbed over the worst of the scrapes near his hip. The road had trashed his skin above the waistline of his jeans.
Ridge grimaced and pulled the towel back. ‘Sorry. Let’s get you in bed.’ He wrapped the towel around his own waist and led a mostly dry, very naked Oz out of the shower and through the door, into the bedroom.
Oz was comforted by the scent of Ridge on the clothes he handed over. He let Ridge put his arms through the holes of the T-shirt, and then he shimmied into the sweats, letting his dick and balls hang free inside them. He supposed if Ridge was going to put his mouth on them, he didn’t much care if they rubbed all along the inside of his pants.
The thought made him grin as he sat down, and he got a kiss for that right before Ridge slid the sling back on him.
‘Why are you smiling?’
“Commando,” he said aloud.
Ridge rolled his eyes and laughed. ‘Easy access.’ He burst into a bigger peal of laughter when Oz’s eyes went wide. ‘Only if you feel like it later. I’m going to get my good bottle of lotion and some food. You get comfortable.’
Oz nodded and let Ridge help him back to the pillows. He rested his head against the headboard and closed his eyes. It would be a miracle if he didn’t doze off, but maybe that was okay too. He was allowed to rest. He was allowed to recover.
He was allowed to just be.
Oz had no idea what time it was when he woke up, but the bowl of soup beside him on the nightstand was still steaming. Ridge had to have refreshed it through because the sky outside was pitch-black, and everything was so still.
He turned his head to the side and saw Ridge propped up against the headboard, a laptop on his lap. Oz didn’t recognize anything on the screen, and when he cleared his throat, Ridge looked over, then closed it.
‘Paperwork,’ he signed. ‘Hungry?’
He was. He was famished and in pain. He wriggled to sit up, managing it with Ridge’s help, then left his legs flat so he could use the little tray his boyfriend picked up.
“This looks really good. Will you put my processors on so we can talk while I eat?”
Ridge jumped up from the bed and moved into the bathroom, appearing a second later. He attached them, and after a few seconds, noise filtered through. The room was still very, very quiet.
“Good?”
“Mm,” Oz said. He’d already taken down half the soup, and he was realizing that although he was still in pain, it was a lot less than it had been before. The worst were the stinging scrapes. They felt almost like burns, which was something he could handle. His shoulder was still throbbing though, and he wasn’t looking forward to the week he had to spend with his arm strapped down.
It was going to make work complicated.
“Shit. I have to take a short leave.”
“How do you do that? The website?”
“Um…” Oz had never had to take more than a day, and he’d only done that twice. He knew there was a protocol when it came to something like this, but his head was fuzzy. “An email, I think? My phone?” He realized right then he couldn’t remember what had happened to it.
Ridge grimaced. “Yeah. So.” That didn’t bode well. He slid off the bed and walked out of the room, returning a moment later with a clear plastic hospital bag, weighted down at the bottom with a handful of things.
Oz recognized his wallet and his keys, and yeah. His phone. Or what was left of it. It was completely shattered.
“The paramedics picked it up. One of the witnesses said you dropped it while you were running, and it got pretty trashed from the concrete. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Ridge dropped the bag at the edge of the bed, and Oz didn’t bother reaching for it because no submersion in a container full of rice was going to fix that damage.
“My laptop’s at my house,” Oz said, bowing his head toward his bowl. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
Ridge took the food from him, then shuffled beside him and set his laptop on his legs. A moment later, Oz glanced over and saw that Ridge had pulled up the school website. He was on the administration page. “This your boss?”
It was. Craig’s photo looked like a mug shot, and Oz might have laughed if he was in the mood. “Mm.”
“Here. Log in to your regular email, and then I can type whatever you want me to.”
Oz hated that he felt like a failure. He was hurt because he’d saved Rex. This wasn’t something he’d done wrong. It was something he did right. If only his brain would let him agree with logic. Leaning over, he put in his mail server, then awkwardly typed in his password.
“I’m not looking,” Ridge told him.
Oz turned his head to see Ridge with his hand over his eyes, and he burst into laughter, twisting more so he could kiss the man. “You can know my password. I have nothing to hide.”
Ridge dropped his hand to the back of Oz’s neck and held him there, taking a second, longer, lusher kiss. “You can have mine too.”
That was something they could talk about later. For now, Oz wanted to get this over with. He clicked on New Message, then let Ridge copy-paste the email address. “Just put my name in the subject line with ‘work absence.’”
Ridge obeyed.
Oz took a breath and tried to clear his head so he didn’t sound entirely unprofessional as he came up with what to say. “Uh…Craig, I’m emailing you from here because I don’t have access to my work laptop, and my phone was destroyed. Does that sound too dramatic?”
“Baby, I think you need a bit of dramatic when you were hit by a car,” Ridge said with a tiny smile. He was still typing because he used two fingers to hunt and peck.
On anyone else, that would have driven Oz nuts. On him, it was adorable.
“Fine, fine. Um… Unfortunately, I was hit by a car?—”
Ridge laughed, and when Oz glared at him, he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. It sounds so weird to say it like that. I mean, how else can you? But seriously? Unfortunately, I’ve been hit by a car.”
It was so ridiculous. Oz burst into laughter, falling against Ridge and giggling until his sides hurt worse than when he’d first woken up. He took several calming breaths, and then he was overwhelmed with the urge to cry.
He sniffed as his eyes teared up. “Shit. What is wrong with me?”
Ridge set the laptop aside and pinched Oz’s chin, drawing his gaze up. “Unfortunately, you were hit by a car?—”
“Shut up,” Oz said, giggling in spite of the tears leaking out of his eyes.
Ridge smiled softly and stroked a thumb over his cheeks to clear away the drops. “It was a traumatic event. And you were already having a hellish few weeks, thanks to your family. You’re allowed to spontaneously cry.”
“I’m never like this,” Oz said as a sob lodged deep in his chest. It was fighting to get out, but he didn’t want to totally lose it.
Ridge cradled his jaw on either side. “Maybe it’s time to be like this. Just for a little while. We all have moments we need to let it out.”
“Do you?”
Ridge shrugged. “I haven’t in a while, but right after I took Ina home, I lost it. I was overwhelmed with grief for her. I was overwhelmed with stress and fear for me because what the fuck did I know about raising a child? I cried myself sick her first day of pre-K. I cried until my eyes felt swollen when she was hospitalized with the flu when she was two.” Ridge shrugged. “I cry-laughed for like fifteen minutes when her adoption was finalized and someone put their hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Congratulations, Dad.’”
Oz felt his stomach twist at that. He would have lost it too. He sniffed and rubbed his hand under his nose. “I think—” He stopped. He was going to say words he wasn’t sure Ridge was ready to hear. They were words he knew he’d been feeling, but before, they’d been almost like a theory. Right now, they were solid.
Truth.
Fact.
“What?” Ridge pressed.
Oz took a deep breath. “It’s so soon. It’s so fast, but…I’m…I…” Oh God, was he really going to do this? What if Ridge didn’t feel the same way? What if he didn’t want Oz to be in love with him?
Ridge smiled and leaned in. “I love you.”
Oz felt like someone had pulled the breath straight from his lungs. Ridge had taken the words dancing on his tongue and offered them out first. They hovered between them. He swallowed thickly and realized he needed to do this in his own language.
He leaned back just enough to put space between them, and then he raised his hand and curled his middle and ring finger in toward his palm. ‘I love you.’
Ridge’s smile widened. He took Oz’s hand by the wrist and kissed those two bent fingers. When he let go, he offered the same sign in return. ‘I love you.’
Oz let out a long, slow breath. His lungs ached. Everything ached. But it was for a different reason now. ‘We should finish the email,’ he signed.
Ridge nodded and let him go, pulling the laptop back. Oz dictated the rest, watching Ridge’s painfully slow typing, but it got done. Oz read it through three times, changed a handful of words, and then hit Send before he could second-guess himself.
There was every chance his boss would sympathize, just like there was every chance he’d get fired. He had no idea, to be honest. He was new. He was still in his probationary period. He tried not to bring drama to work, but sometimes it followed him.
“If they fire me?—”
Ridge touched his jaw, quieting his words. “If they fire you—which would be a wild thing to do after what happened to you—then you’ll be okay. You have a whole family of people who will make sure you’re okay.”
It hit Oz how real that was now. That as much as he’d tried to fight it, he’d been brought into this little circle. He could breathe. He could reach out. He could let the people trying to care about him just do it.
“Tell me you love me again.”
“Words or sign?”
“Both,” Oz said. He wanted it in both of his languages. In that moment, they felt entirely equal.
Ridge leaned in and let his lips rest against Oz’s. “I love you,” he murmured right as his three-fingered sign pressed against Oz’s palm.
Oz closed his eyes and, for that moment, simply basked before he finally whispered back, “I love you too.”