Chapter 30 ALI - BAD SHOULDERS AND EVEN WORSE KISSES
After the surgery, JP spent the first couple days in a fog-like state on the couch wearing comfy sweats and a bulky sling that pinned his arm and shoulder firmly in place.
He spent his time binging TV shows. I spent my time babying him, making sure he ate each meal—most were delivered since I was seriously lacking in cooking abilities—and making sure he took his meds at the correct times.
“Can you lay with me?” he asked on his third night home.
I was curled up in my corner of the couch reading a book, while he was splayed out on the rest of the sectional. While I desperately missed cuddling with him, I knew it was a bad idea. “I don't want to bump you.”
“Bump me, punch me, squash me, I don’t fucking care,” he said sleepily. “I miss your touch.” He held out his left arm and my heart melted the same way it did when he said that to me so many years ago. “Please?”
“Fine,” I conceded. “I’ll lay down for a little, but I’m not falling asleep here,” I warned.
He didn’t hide his grin.
After curling his good arm around me, he fell asleep in what felt like two minutes.
I leaned over and studied his peaceful face.
When we first came back from the hospital, he had trouble sleeping, and even though he slept during the day, he still had dark bags under his eyes.
His face still looked a bit pale, and he hadn’t shaved in a while, so his scruff was starting to turn into a beard, but he was still the most handsome guy I’d ever seen.
I just hoped he wouldn’t wake up in pain tonight.
I dropped a kiss on his forehead, and then I whispered the words I’d been thinking for days, but was too scared to say aloud: “I love you, Jameson.” I smoothed my thumb under his eye before pulling myself away.
__________
A full week after his surgery, JP woke up before me, looking way more lively and freshly showered. He’d trimmed his wild beard back into scruff, and he wore only sweatpants slung low on his hips while he stood over the stove in the kitchen.
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Eggs?” he asked, holding a spatula up with his left hand.
“Sure, you need some help?”
“Nah, I got it. I have never been happier to be left-handed.” He grinned. “I was gonna ask…” he trailed off while he plated the eggs. “You wanna go out tonight? We haven’t really been on a real date here in Chicago. Wanna go?”
I climbed up on one of his kitchen barstools. “Are you sure you’re up for that? You’re still on meds.”
“Nope, I'm not.” He grinned proudly. “Haven’t taken any today.”
I studied his face, looking for any signs of pain. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, more than okay,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m feeling good. You’ve been helping me so much, let me treat you to a night out.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
“But I like helping you,” I said, still not believing he was actually feeling well enough.
And I kind of like staying in, I internally added.
We had a whole routine. I’d spend most of the day working on the nursery or online shopping for the babies, and then we’d spend the rest of the night on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching movies.
He grinned. “Let’s go out tonight. Let me show you Chicago.”
__________
“We can leave whenever you want, okay?” I said for what felt like the hundredth time.
I couldn’t help it. He looked okay, and he said he was feeling okay, but his shoulder was just drilled into a week ago—there’s no way he wasn’t in at least a little pain.
On top of that, I was now paranoid about someone bumping into his shoulder as we walked through the busy stadium for the basketball game.
JP didn’t seem worried at all. He chuckled softly and tightened his hold on my hand. He only let go of my hand once tonight to pull his hat lower when a group of young guys spotted him. “I promise I’ll tell you if it starts hurting, good?”
I nodded, but his words didn’t quite ease my anxiety.
“Are you good?” he asked. “Hungry?”
I twisted my lips as I eyed the concession stand. We did just have a full meal at a swanky restaurant, but it was hard to resist the smell of popcorn. “No, I’m fine,” I finally decided.
“Oh, come on.” He gave me a get-real look. “Says the woman who hogs the popcorn every night.”
I gasped. “I do not hog it.”
He grinned down at me. “Fine, I want some popcorn. Will you eat some if I get it?”
I struggled to tamper down my grin. “That sounds like a brilliant idea.”
“I’m full of those.” He winked at me.
“Oh, you really are,” I quipped back. I cleared my throat and used my best guy voice to imitate him: “No attachments, no promises. Just a week together, what could it hurt?” I eyed him. “Childbirth could hurt a lot, JP,” I said with a laugh.
He rubbed his jaw, trying to cover a sheepish laugh. “I am sorry about that part.” He gave me a weak smile. “But I’ll be the best birthing partner you could ever ask for.”
I rolled my eyes and let out a laugh. “I know,” I said assuredly, making a grateful smile appear on his face.
After securing our popcorn, JP shoved two water bottles in his sweatpants pockets, then held my hand again to lead me to our seats. As we walked, I was shocked at how far down the stairwell toward the court we were going.
“Wait, we’re going really far,” I murmured.
“Yeah.” He grinned over his shoulder at me.
I stopped. “Did you get us floor seats?”
His face lit up with a grin. “The best way to see a basketball game, babe. C’mon.”
I grinned back, but as soon as he turned around, my face dropped.
While it was nice he spent so much money on this date, now I was really paranoid—what if a basketball, or worse, a person, came out of bounds and hit his arm?
I wouldn’t be much help at all. I’d be too worried about protecting the babies to protect him.
I swallowed hard, trying to reign in my nerves.
As soon as we got to our designated seats on the floor, JP maneuvered me to his left side before sitting.
“Okay, what’s got you worried?” he asked, his eyes going up to the jumbotron.
“Nothing,” I lied.
He set the popcorn down between us and pulled my hands into his lap. “I should tell you something.” He weighed his head to the side as he stared down at my fingers. “Ah, maybe I shouldn’t.” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
I pulled back. “You can’t do that.” I swatted his good arm. “Now you have to tell me.”
He laughed to himself before letting out a sigh. “You start twisting your fingers when you lie.” He smoothed my fingers out on his thigh. “You’ve done that since we were young.”
“No, I—” I cut myself off, because the more I thought of it, he was right. “Well, you can’t look me in the eye when you lie,” I blurted out.
His eyebrows shot up, looking shocked.
“Yupp. And you sniff, kinda like this.” I demonstrated.
He started laughing so hard his body shook, and I couldn't help but join. His left hand went up to his right peck, to stop himself from moving too much. “Damn, here I thought I had an advantage. Turns out we’re both shit liars.”
“I’d say so.” I wiped my eye. No one else had ever called me out like that, probably because no one else in the world knew me as well as him.
He was my person. And I was his. Even though we spent years in no contact, the distance melted away when I looked at him.
I knew him down to his soul, I loved him down to his soul—his very good, very wholesome soul.
I laid my head against his left shoulder and hugged his arm. He hummed in approval.
“I should probably work on fixing that, eh?” he asked me.
“No, you shouldn’t. I love it.”
“I love you,” he said with a laugh, then his entire body froze, like he realized what he said a split-second too late.
I pulled back to stare at him.
He coughed into his fist and shifted his chair. His face reddened with panic. “I mean…it,” he said weakly. “I love it. I just…I…” he sputtered. He dropped his head. “No, that’s not true. Well, it is true. But I also love you. Fuck.” He rubbed his forehead. “Sorry, don’t worry. You don’t have to—””
“I love you too,” I said immediately.
The panic dropped from his face and his lips twitched into a hesitant smile. “You do?”
Laughing, I reached up to his face and planted a kiss on his lips. “I really do, JP.” He studied my face, like he was trying to reassure himself. I nodded, my face hurting from smiling so big. “Like, a lot.” I laughed.
“Thank God,” he rasped. He went to pull me into a hug, but his sling stopped him and his face flinched, almost like he momentarily forgot about his injury. “Fuck my arm,” he let out a frustrated groan and settled for a side hug. “This sucks,” he said grumpily.
I patted his chest. “It’s okay, you’ll be better in no time.”
He dropped a kiss on my hair. “So, can you tell me why you’re worried now?”
I swallowed hard as I surveyed the court.
While he momentarily forgot about his injury, I forgot about where we were.
I scanned the athletic players while they warmed up.
They were so close I could see the sweat beads forming on their brows.
“I’m just afraid of a ball or a player smacking your arm or my stomach. ”
He gave me a gentle grin. “I won’t let that happen, Ali.” He intertwined his fingers with mine and brought my hand to his lips for a kiss. “Promise.”
As soon as the game started, my worry eased because my competitive edge started taking over.
Just planning this type of date showed how well JP really knew me.
I’d never be able to sit through a movie or an orchestra or play without falling asleep or talking.
But I loved games—any kind of game, really.
I loved getting into the competitive spirit and cheering on my chosen team for the night, and so did JP.
This game even more relaxing because JP wasn’t suiting up.
He was sitting right beside me, also yelling at the refs for bad calls.
About halfway through the second period, my stomach rumbled in a weird way.
“Was that you?” JP asked, barely taking his eyes off the court.
“Yeah,” I said, grimacing as I reached for my water. “Prolly just some indigestion.” I let out a loud burp, and JP shot me an amused grin. “Sorry.” I blushed.
“Shoot!” JP yelled a second later, completely distracted. He quickly turned back to me. “Sorry, you promise you’re good?”
Not wanting to be the one to put an end to our night, I nodded and tried to mentally convince myself that I was fine even though I was feeling a bit queasy.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” I said. But as I stood, a horn blared, signaling a commercial break. While the players jogged back to their respective benches, a stream of people started rushing up the aisles to use the bathroom. Sitting back down, I blew out a steadying breath. “I’ll just wait.”
“You sure?” JP asked, concern etched on his face.
Forcing a smile, I nodded. I wasn’t about to fight the crowd. I’d just wait until they resumed the game to hit the bathroom.
“You know what that means,” the announcer’s voice boomed in the stadium, making me slightly jump. The jumbotron lit up with a video of the mascot kissing a fan while The Crystal’s crooned, “Then He Kissed Me.”
JP’s face split into a grin as we watched couples around the stadium kiss whenever the camera landed on them. Old and young couples were shown, and then a couple of celebs around the floor of the court were put on the screen.
I loved watching, until I saw myself up on the jumbotron.
JP’s eyes widened in surprise. The bottom of the screen read: Windy City Whalers’ Defenseman JP McQuaid. The crowd immediately cheered for him. A guy behind us yelled, “Go Whalers!”
“JP,” I said warily. My stomach rumbled. My face flushed. My body felt like it was a volcano ready to erupt.
“Ali.” He laughed.
He leaned over to kiss me, but I went under his arm and barfed into the bucket of popcorn sitting right on his lap.
My ears were ringing, but I could still hear the crowd’s collective “Ohhh!”
When my body was done heaving, I pulled back to see JP sitting there with his mouth dropped open, his left hand up in complete shock. I slapped a hand over my mouth, wanting to disappear on the spot. My eyes went back up to the jumbotron, which was still showing us, and I wanted to cry.
I covered my face with my hands because I couldn't look at him. “Oh my God. Are you mad?”
“No, no, I’m not.” He immediately set the bucket down by his feet and rubbed my back. “You wanna go home?”
Home. With him. Our home. I had a home. I almost started crying for totally different reasons. “Yeah, I do.” My voice cracked.
“Me too.” He gave me a knowing grin. He cringed slightly as he picked up the bucket of barf, and he held it far away from himself as he carried it up the stairs.
The crowd was laughing and shouting things at us as we made our way out of the stadium. I pretty much blocked everyone and everything out, focusing only on JP’s back until we reached the safety of the almost empty rotunda.
“I am so sorry,” I told him again.
JP just laughed. “It’s fine, Ali.” He took my hand again and led me toward the parking garage.
“Are you mad you’re missing the end of the game?” I asked nervously.
“No, not at all.” He waited until we were in the elevator for the parking garage before saying, “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, anything.” I leaned against his left side, feeling the need to be close to him because I was still nervous that he was actually mad that I basically barfed on him.
“I think I was trying to push myself to go out tonight because I'm afraid you’ll get bored here, but this may have been too soon.”
I looked up to study his face. His face looked tired and worried. “I won’t.”
“Really?” His throat bobbed with a swallow. “I feel like you’re used to seeing the whole world and all this cool stuff. I just really want you to like Chicago, but you haven’t even seen much of it. You’ve basically been stuck at my place.”
“I love Chicago,” I said simply.
“Yeah?” he asked skeptically.
I nodded. “Because you’re here.”
He smiled, then winced.
“You okay? You need more medicine?” I asked hurriedly.
“Yeah, my kind of medicine.” He gave me a lopsided grin, but I could tell it was strained. “Snuggling up on the couch with you.”
I went to my tiptoes to kiss his jaw. I loved how freely he loved me. He didn’t withhold his affection or emotions from me, and he held my hand the entire way back to his truck.