Chapter 39
thirty-nine
. . .
Bex
“I missed you, boo,” Elsy says when the video chat connects.
“Missed you, too.”
My sister-in-law sighs. “How’s the patient?”
Terrible.
I ran into the office to file some paperwork, but as soon as I’m done here, I’ll be back at his place.
“It’s rough,” I finally tell her. “I don’t like seeing him like this.”
“He hasn’t answered any of my calls.”
“Phones are hard. Screens give him headaches.” It’s not funny, yet I still huff out a breath of laughter. “He’s literally staring at the ceiling all day. It can’t be fun for him.”
“No, I don’t imagine it is.”
The pain in her voice makes my heart pang. I feel the same way. We both love him—in different ways, of course—and it’s agonizing to see someone I care about in so much pain.
“It was different when it was just Wyatt,” I admit. “Not that I don’t love my brother. He’s half the reason I went into this field to begin with. But now that it’s Nick…”
“It’s real,” Elsy murmurs. “It’s real in a way it never was before.”
“I love him.”
Her eyes widen. “Bex—”
“I love him, and I haven’t told him yet,” I blurt. “So don’t say anything.”
She crosses an X over her heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“Fuck, I adore you.” We’ve been friends since grad school, and despite her moving to Austin, we’ve only grown closer since she got together with Wyatt. “I can’t wait until our trip out there next month.”
“We’ll have to make the most of it,” Elsy says. “I know you have to work during the game, but hopefully we can steal away just the two of us for a bit.”
It’s easy to get swept up in the men in our lives and forget our friendship that bonded us together. From a random roommate listing, to living together in two separate cities, and now to being family… There’s nobody else I’d rather be doing this life with.
“Okay, so tell me what else is new,” I say, settling into my desk chair. “How is the symphony? Do you have any exciting performances coming up?”
She launches into catching me up, and we chat for the better part of forty-five minutes until all my paperwork is done and her lunch break between students is over.
“We need to do this again soon,” she says. “Let’s check our calendars and put some catch-up dates on the schedule. I miss talking to you.”
“Definitely.”
We arrange to chat again next Thursday, and again the following Friday, before we hang up. I’m disconnecting my laptop and stuffing it into my bag when the sensor on the door chimes, and Annaliese enters our shared office.
She stops in her tracks at the sight of me.
“I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Just getting a few things taken care of.”
The team granted me a few days off, but I needed to get out of that apartment before I went nuts.
“You’re not looking at his scans?”
I shake my head. “You can check the audit logs. I don’t want to see them. I’m seeing his status firsthand, and knowing the details will only make me more anxious.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry you’re in this position.”
“I’m not. I’d rather he not be injured, of course. I don’t want anyone to get injured. But if he’s going to have someone taking care of him, I’d rather it be me.”
“Helps that you know the neuroscience behind it.”
My forced chuckle is weak. “Not really. Because I know what it means when his symptoms last this long, and I know all the potential side effects.”
Annaliese grimaces. “There is that.”
“I’m just putting one foot in front of the other. Focusing on getting through the day.”
“Caregiver fatigue can be devastating,” she says. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself during all of this, too.”
“When I get home, I’m going to draw a bubble bath and read a book,” I promise.
Even if home in this case is Nick’s apartment. He has a full Jacuzzi tub with jets and a bath tray to hold my book and maybe a glass of wine.
And I don’t want to leave him. Call me a sap, call me a worrywart, but I like making sure he’s okay. Seeing with my own two eyes that he’s breathing, even if he’s still in pain.
We say goodbye and I drive to his apartment, parking in his second assigned space. It feels like half the team lives in this building, which makes it convenient to get together.
I take the elevator from the basement garage to the lobby, where Sinclair nods and steps into the metal cage. He jabs the button for the eighth floor and we ride in silence until we reach his floor.
He steps off, then turns back, his arm holding the doors open.
“He’s doing okay?” Concern creases his face.
“As well as he can be.”
He grunts. “Tell him we’re thinking of him, ’kay?”
My heart warms. “I will.”
“We’re giving him some space, but as soon as he’s ready for visitors, we’ll be up.”
“He’d like that.” I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Thanks, Adam.”
The defenseman grimaces. “Why you gotta first name me? Gross.”
I laugh. “I’ll tell him you’re thinking of him,” I promise.
He nods. “Thanks.”
Finally stepping away, he allows the doors to close, and I continue on my ascent to Nick’s floor. His apartment is all the way at the end of the hall in a corner unit. He has absolutely brilliant views of the city below.
I find Nick sitting on the couch, my throw blanket over his lap as he runs his hand through his hair, staring at the walls.
“Honey, I’m home,” I call out, pitching my voice low.
He turns to face me, a soft smile on his face. “I like the sound of that.”
I cross the room to him, ducking to kiss him softly. “How’s your head?”
He grimaces. “Not great. The painkillers helped.”
“Annaliese made me promise to take a bubble bath. Do you… Would you like to join me?”
I’ve never taken a bath with anyone. Never showered together. Being naked was always about getting off. In, out, done.
But with Nick, every time we’re together, I believe more and more that he likes me and my body, not in spite of it. That he’s not pretending to be interested in me as a person just to get laid.
I know better. But that doesn’t make those insidious thoughts any easier to tackle. My mother’s voice in my ear is as loud as ever.
He makes a content noise deep in his throat. “That sounds nice.”
I kiss him again, short and chaste, before I force myself to pull back.
“Come find me in a few minutes. I’ll get everything ready.”
In the hall cupboard are a few votive candles. I fill the tub with hot water, squeezing a good amount of my favorite soap into the stream to create orange blossom–scented bubbles. The candles are lit and placed strategically around the bathroom.
And then I turn the lights off since the fluorescents still gives him headaches. With the light from the votives, the bathroom is cast in a romantic glow.
This isn’t about romance. It isn’t about sex. This is for us to be together, to relax a little.
I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a pile in the corner, and then tie my long hair up into a bun on the top of my head. When I finally step into the water, sinking into the deep tub, I let out a happy sigh.
A shadowy figure appears in the doorway, and I turn to watch as Nick strips off his shirt and joggers. I drink in the contours of his body, the hard muscles blemished by fading bruises.
“How are we going to do this?” His voice is a low murmur, rumbly and thick.
“I thought maybe I could be the big spoon for a little while.”
His sigh hits me right in the chest. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Even sitting up straight, the water covers my breasts, and as he steps into the tub and settles his back to my chest, it sloshes along the side of the tub.
I wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him into me. My chin rests perfectly along his shoulder.
“This feels nice,” he murmurs, almost shy. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Taken a bath?”
“Not with someone.”
“Me either,” I admit.
He gathers some of the bubbles in his hands, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply.
“This is like the hand sanitizer. It won’t get you high,” I tease.
Nick cranes his head to look back at me. “Do you know why I love the scent of your hand sanitizer so much?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s yours. For three and a half years, the scent of orange blossoms taunted me. And now, I’m surrounded by it, every single day, and I can’t be happier.”
I’m speechless.
“Nick…”
He shakes his head, the movement ginger. “I’m crazy about you, Bex Marie,” he murmurs. He arches his head back until our mouths are millimeters away, his breath ghosting over my lips. “Abso-fucking-lutely crazy.”
I crash my lips against his, drinking in the taste of him, the sound of his groans. My hand lifts to cup his stubbly cheek, memorizing the feel of him.
“I’m crazy about you, too.”
“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.” He presses his forehead to mine, breathing hard. “You’re it for me.”
My heart pounds. “Nick, I—”
We’ve talked about timelines. We’ve agreed to exclusivity, to a serious, committed relationship. But this…
“I’m not proposing,” he continues. “I just wanted you to know. You’re all I want. All I’m going to ever want. Just you.”
Trembling, I tighten my arms around him. “I feel the same way.”
Those three little words are on my lips. I should tell him. I should just come out and say it.
But then he sighs, content. His lips find mine in a soft kiss.
And then he’s turning in my arms again, leaning back against my chest. “Can we stay like this forever?”
“Anything you want.”