17. Cole #2
The mere suggestion summons a yawn from me. I don’t even want to count how many hours I’ve been awake.
He holds the door open and hangs our headphones up, then follows me into the hall. I stretch my arms over my head and wince.
“Sore?”
“I’m okay,” I lie.
Simply existing puts a strain on my muscles because of the constant core workout to stay upright. Between that and the stress, my muscles are tighter than a bowstring, and nerve pain shoots down my leg at random.
I’ve been guzzling over-the-counter pain meds as often as I can without destroying my liver. It takes the edge off—barely. I packed an emergency stash of muscle relaxers and oxycodone, but I won’t take them unless an old fracture breaks again.
At the bottom of the stairs, Morgan presses a gentle hand to my lower back. A sharp gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it.
Morgan clicks his tongue. “Sorry. Come on, I’ll help you up there.”
“I don’t need help.”
“I know,” he says serenely.
He follows me upstairs and pauses on the threshold of the captain’s quarters. “Get undressed. I’ll be right back.”
“What?” Never mind. He already walked out, and I’m not going to question him. I’ll take whatever he wants to give me.
I brush my teeth, trade my contact lenses for glasses, and strip to my boxer briefs, avoiding the self-loathing in my reflection, then shuffle back into the room.
Morgan is taping a piece of paper to the outside of my door. In big block letters written with a thick marker, it says:
THE CAPTAIN IS SLEEPING.
ABSOLUTELY NO INTERRUPTIONS UNLESS THE BOAT IS ON FIRE OR SINKING. LAWRENCE, I WILL KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU WAKE HIM.
“Do you think it’ll work?” I ask.
“You never know with Lawrence.” He turns, grin slipping from his face when he sees me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you in glasses.” His lips quiver, nearly imperceptibly beneath his overgrown stubble.
“Oh.” I didn’t realize. I only wear them before bed, and I didn’t bring them when Lawrence and Javi kidnapped me.
Morgan is probably the only person who saw me in them regularly, except for the time I spent in the hospital.
The glasses were on my bedside table, waiting for me when they took the breathing tube out.
Morgan thought to take them with him, as if he had faith I’d survive to one day need them.
I pad toward him, intent on comforting him. This is my fault. I kicked him out. I deprived him of me, just like I did with Finn. What the fuck is wrong with me?
He squeezes the bridge of his nose and blinks. “Don’t.” A single word said like a curse.
“You always try to ease my pain, but I’m the one who hurts you,” I press, taking another step.
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He nods toward the bed. “Get in.”
I don’t dare answer verbally. I face the bed and pull the blankets back. The door closes behind me. He left? I plant my palms on the bed and bow my head. All I do is hurt him. I don’t know how to make this right. I wish I would have died.
The wood creaks. My heart leaps. I feel like the same insecure teenager who pined over him, longing for his attention, willing to settle for anything, even his irritation. It took him forever to open up to me, and now I’ve pushed him so far away, I don’t know if he’ll ever let me in again.
“Lie down,” he says.
When I comply, he sits on the edge of the bed. “Where does it hurt the most?”
“My heart.”
He doesn’t laugh. “Cole…”
“Sorry.” I clear my throat and shut my eyes. “My lower back and sciatic nerve.”
“Roll onto your stomach for me.”
Once I do as he asks, he flattens his hand just above my ass. My breath stalls in my chest.
“It’s not your fault that I’m hurting,” I say. “You don’t have to make me feel better.”
Gulls call. A bell rings.
“I want you to feel better because I love you. Not because I blame myself.”
His fingers start to work, massaging my lower back, focusing on the side where I broke my pelvis first.
“Loving me is a burden,” I say.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. It’s just a fact.”
“Nah. It’s your opinion, and a bad one.”
“I don’t want reassurance.”
He hushes me and applies more pressure until I suck a breath through clenched teeth.
“Breathe through it. Relax for me.” He kisses my neck.
I whimper, not with pleasure, but pain, and bury my face in the pillow. After all these years, the guys probably know the difference between the sound of us fucking and the sounds I’m making now. It’s humiliating.
“I know. I’m sorry.” His hands shift southward to my bad hip.
When he reaches the knot strangling my sciatic nerve, I lose all decorum.
“Fuck,” I cry out.
My fingers grapple with the sheets, searching for something to hold, some way to escape the pain.
“Shh. I know it hurts, but you’re almost through it.”
Sweat evaporates on my feverish skin, summoning shivers that make my muscles spasm more.
But he’s relentless, adding more pressure, diving deeper with the pads of his fingers.
My pain climbs and climbs. I open my mouth to beg him to stop.
Then the knot dissipates, and the relief is so immediate and all-encompassing, I melt into the bed and thank him in a broken babble.
“You did so well.” He bends over me and kisses my temple. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you.”
“It’s okay. I deserved it,” I slur.
“You didn’t deserve any of this, Cole.”
“Neither did you.”
He clicks his tongue, and takes off his shirt, then uses it to dry the sweat from my skin, starting with my forehead, soothing me with his scent.
I close my eyes. “Are you going to leave?” I don’t want to watch him go.
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
“Thank you.” I open my eyes.
His face is wan, and his eyes shine with tears.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Watching you suffer reminds me of the day I almost lost you.” He swallows hard and inhales a trembling breath.
“I’m sorry.” I move to sit, but he presses a staying hand on my hip.
“Please work on your stretches and let me massage you before it gets this bad again.” He strokes my hip with his thumb. “What hurts you hurts me too.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat.
He shushes me. “It’s not your fault, Sunshine.”
I want to argue, but I’m too exhausted. Morgan kicks off his shoes. I look away as he drops his pants, rolling onto my good side. When he sidles up behind me, I settle into the safety of his arms, and drift on a current with the swaying ship until I fall into a dreamless sleep.