He laughs so hard, his shoulders shake.“A very muscular fetus who runs into burning buildings.”
“Congratulations,” I deadpan.“You’re a heroic fetus.”
His grin could melt steel beams.
“And you’re thirty-five,” he says, like it’s a fact he enjoys saying.“Not a crime.Not a sentence.Just a number.”
“It’s twelve years,” I counter.
He shrugs.“It’s also the difference between decaf and espresso.Guess which one I am.”
I choke on my own breathing tube.“Did you just compare yourself to caffeine?”
“Absolutely,” he says shamelessly.“I’m good for you.Addictive.Makes your heart race.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re smiling.”
I didn’t realize I was until he pointed it out.The muscles in my cheeks ache, unused to the motion after the last twenty-four hours.It feels ...good.Dangerous, but good.
The door opens and a nurse pokes her head in.“Everything okay in here?”
“Yes,” we both say at the same time.
Her gaze flicks between us, her mouth twitching like she wants to smile but is too professional to risk it.“We’ll likely discharge you this afternoon if your oxygen saturation stays up.Do you have someone who can pick you up?”
My heart sinks through the bed and into the abyss.Not only is there no one in my life to pick me up, there is nowhere for anyone to take me.
“No,” I say softly.“It’s just me.”
Darren answers over me.“I’ve got her.”
We both turn to look at him.He doesn’t backpedal.He doesn’t glance at me for permission like he’s waiting to see if I’ll be embarrassed by the offer.He just says it, solid and steady and with that same tone he used when he said, “you’re safe.”
The nurse nods like this is the most natural thing in the world.“All right then.”She leaves without another word.
The room feels different now.Bigger.Smaller.Fuller.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say weakly.
“I know,” he replies.“I want to.”
Want.The word lands in my belly and blooms.
“I’m a mess,” I warn him, because he needs to understand what he’s volunteering for.“My house is gone.I don’t even know where I’m going after here.The library paycheck doesn’t exactly come with an emergency fund for arson.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he says without hesitation.
We.There is that damn word again.
I should argue.I should push him away with polite smiles and self-deprecating jokes and reminders that he deserves someone younger, smoother, less ...burned.But I am so damn tired of doing everything alone.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Something like victory flashes in his eyes.Not cocky, not predatory, just relieved.Like I gave him something he wanted, and what he wanted was the chance to stay.
He shifts in his chair, closer now, forearm brushing the edge of my mattress.“Tell me something,” he says.
