“Like?”
“The fatigue, for a start. We won’t know until I build my body back up, whether it’s because I’m physically weak or because of the injury.” He smiled weakly. “So if you want a twice-a-night guy or even a twice-a-day guy, there’s a high chance I’ll never be able to fulfil you.”
Kyrone stroked his cheek. “I’m pretty sure there’s more to a relationship than having sex more than once a day.”
Jared released a fragile laugh. “True.”
“What other possible side effects are there?” Kyrone asked.
“I might develop seizures or be more at risk of a stroke than the average person,” Jared said in the most matter-of-fact tone he could manage. “Mood swings are a possibility. So is depression. My memory problems might get worse, so it could get harder for me to do simple tasks like working out what change I need to give someone. My concentration and attention span might get affected too.” He winced. “And if that does happen, I’d struggle to keep working for Faye or anyone else.” He dipped his gaze, unable to keep staring into Kyrone’s eyes.
“You don’t know thatanyof those things will happen for sure, do you?” Kyrone asked.
Jared shook his head. “No, but I talk about the possibilities with the neurologist every time I go. It’s why I need frequent tests—brain scans and such. Brain injuries are really complex and not fully understood. Given time, Icouldget better. Or I could get a lot worse.”
“That frightens you?” Kyrone tipped Jared’s chin up, forcing him to look into his eyes again.
“Yes,” Jared whispered. “And it should probably frighten you too.”
“It doesn’t.”
Jared’s chin trembled. “If we stay together, you might end up being my carer, Ky. Not just nursing me through a headache or a migraine but actually looking after me. What if I start to lose the new memories I’ve made or stop being able to make new ones? What if—”
Kyrone silenced him with a kiss. “We’ll deal with itifit happens,” he promised. “You’ve come a long way, on your own, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m definitely not going to get frightened off by things that might not happen.”
A sob escaped Jared. He pressed his fingertips against Kyrone’s chest. “You want children, Ky,” he breathed. “But I might not be considered well enough to be allowed to adopt.”
Kyrone blew out a breath, and Jared braced himself for the worst.
“If that’s the case, we’ll deal with that too.”
“I don’t want you to hate or resent me if I stand in the way of something you really want.”
“That couldneverhappen, babe.”
Jared wanted that to be true, but he could see the pain in his lover’s eyes, which was at odds with his insistent words. Kyrone was already a thousand times more understanding than any other man he’d told about his condition—they’d all run a mile or treated him like glass—but Jared didn’t want him to feel trapped. Not now, when their relationship was fresh and new and definitely not further down the line if they stayed together.
“Just… remember what I said about promises,” he whispered. “If we get to the point of promising each other forever, I won’t hold you to it if my condition changes for the worse, if staying with me makes you miserable.”
“Is that a promise?” Kyrone asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes.”
“Then I won’t hold you to it if keeping that promise makesyoumiserable.” He kissed Jared again, this time softly, before staring so deeply into his eyes that Jared became lost in the dark depths of his irises. “I’m not falling in love with you, babe. I’min lovewith you.”
Jared’s chest squeezed tight, and at the same time, a million butterflies took flight in his stomach as Kyrone’s words sunk in and became a part of him. “I love you too,” he whispered, and he knew the moment the words had passed his lips that it was true.
16Kyrone
The back entrance to the Heaven and Hell Club was locked until the evening, but while pole fit classes were taking place during the afternoon, the front entrance was open. Kyrone had never arrived at the club so early before, so it was weird to see the main room, which was normally dark and sultry, so light and bright. The thick red curtains were open, allowing light to stream through the high windows. The stage lights weren’t on, but several fluorescent strip lights were. A class was in full swing, with three women using the poles onstage and another four using the practice poles that normally stood in the changing rooms. Mac was leading the class, wearing a maroon tracksuit rather than the smart black suit that he wore at night.
While he waited for the class to finish, Kyrone took a seat at the bar and used the browser on his phone to try to come up with replacement career options. He’d decided his mum had been right. It would be foolish to quit his degree before he knew what he was going to do instead. The problem was all he really knew for sure was that he didn’t want to go into finance or return to the Navy.
By the time Mac was seeing the class out, Kyrone had done half a dozen career quizzes but was still no closer to an epiphany.
“I’m guessing you’re not here to work on routines,” Mac said, striding over. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Water would be great, thanks.”
