41. Sawyer #2
Addison didn’t say a word. Which was somehow worse.
I sighed. “Okay. That was bad.”
“It was a little bad,” she agreed gently.
“A little?”
She laughed and sat down beside me. “A medium amount bad.”
I leaned back against the couch cushions and rubbed a hand over my face. “I hate this.” The admission came out before I could stop it. Addison’s expression softened immediately.
“I know, baby.”
“No, you don’t.” I shook my head and instantly regretted the movement when my shoulder protested. “I hate sitting here while everyone tells me what I can and can’t do. I hate needing help to put on a shirt. I hate that opening a bottle of water suddenly feels like an Olympic event.”
She got up and knelt between my legs so I wouldn’t have to turn to look at her. She cupped my face, her eyes filling with tears. “I know you’ve spent your entire life taking care of yourself,” she said. “And I know this probably feels strange. Maybe even a little scary?”
I looked away. “Yeah.”
The word came out smaller than I intended.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Look at me, please.”
I did.
“I love you, Sawyer.”
The words stole my breath. We hadn’t talked about it since the hospital, and part of me had started to wonder if she regretted saying it.
“I want to take care of you, baby,” she continued. “I know you think you can do everything yourself, but you don’t have to. Not with me.”
My throat tightened. “So, you don’t regret it?”
Her brow furrowed. “Regret what?”
“Saying you love me.”
Her whole expression softened. “Sawyer, no. God, no. Why would I?”
“You just… we haven’t talked about any of it. I thought maybe you only said it because you were scared. That maybe you still hadn’t changed your mind about keeping us separate.”
Addison shook her head and kissed me softly. Every time she touched me now, she did it like she was afraid I might break beneath her hands.
“Sawyer, baby, I didn’t say it because you were in an accident. Hearing you had crashed and were going into surgery scared the fuck out of me. I was terrified you weren’t going to be okay.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. I reached up and wiped them away with my thumb.
“Before I came to the hospital, I drove straight to my parents’ house and told them I was in love with you. I told them I didn’t care what they thought, that I was happy and I wasn’t going to live for them anymore, I was going to live for me.”
I had no idea. “You did?”
“I did.” She nodded. “I didn’t even let them respond. I told them, left, and came straight to you.”
She leaned closer, her hands still holding my face.
“And I don’t regret any of it. No more hiding. No more holding back. You’re mine, and I want everyone to know it.” Her voice cracked. “I love you so much, Sawyer.”
“I love you too.” The words came out quietly, but they felt bigger than anything I had ever said.
Addison smiled through her tears and pressed her forehead to mine.
“Good,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes and breathed her in. “I’m still going to hate needing help,” I warned.
“I know.”
“And I’m probably going to argue with you.”
“I know that too.” She laughed.
“But I’ll try.”
She kissed me gently. “That’s all I’m asking.”
A little while later, she made me something small to eat so I could take my medication, then helped me into bed and arranged the pillows around my shoulder until I was finally comfortable.
She climbed in beside me and curled carefully around my good side. She turned on Buffy and played with my hair while the medication started to work.
Once the pain eased, the drowsiness pulled me under. The last thing I felt was her lips against my forehead.
* * *
Later, after dinner, Addison suggested a shower.
The hospital had sent me home with a shower sling and a waterproof cover for the dressing. The nurse showed Addison how to protect my shoulder before getting it wet.
Steam filled the bathroom while she helped me undress. Then she carefully covered the dressing and secured the shower sling, checking everything twice before pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder.
“There,” she murmured. “All protected.”
She helped me into the shower and stepped in behind me. Her hands moved slowly and carefully as she washed around the bandages, touching me like I was something precious.
The intimacy of it stirred something warm in my chest.
I flirted because it was instinct.
Because wanting her still felt good.
She kissed me, slow and warm, the familiar spark of heat flickering between us. When I tried to pull her closer, her hands stilled against my waist.
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly, though she was smiling. “You’re hurt.”
For a second, disappointment flashed through me.
Addison saw it immediately. “I’m not rejecting you.”
“I know.” I loosened my hold on her waist. “I just wanted you.”
“I want you too.” She brushed her thumb over my hip. “That’s the problem. Because if we start, you’re going to forget you’re hurt, and I’m going to let you.”
A quiet laugh slipped out of me. “Probably.”
“Definitely.” She kissed me again, softer this time. “I’m trying to protect you, baby.”
Something in my chest eased.
“I’m not used to that,” I admitted.
“I know.”
I rested my forehead against hers. “Okay. Not tonight.”
“Not tonight.”
“But you still have to kiss me.”
She smiled. “That I can do.”
She leaned in slowly, one hand settling carefully against my waist as her lips met mine. The kiss was soft and unhurried, warm enough to make me forget the pain for a second.
When she pulled back, she stayed close, her forehead resting against mine.
“I love you,” she whispered.
My chest tightened in the best way.
“I love you too.”
That night, we curled up together on the couch with Buffy playing softly on the television. We were deep into season five by that point.
“Have you talked to your parents?” I asked quietly. “Since you left their house?”
Addison shook her head. “Not yet. I need to. I will.” She paused. “I want to talk to Lilly too. I was thinking about meeting her tomorrow, if you’re okay with that.”
I nodded. “Of course, baby. I’ll be fine.”
She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too.”
I had always been afraid of saying those words to someone.
But with Addison, I loved saying them.
* * *