I raised an eyebrow slowly. "Excuse me?"
"Your shirt," he said like he was telling me to get on the back of his bike.
"Why?"
Dex ducked enough to grab the bottom of my sweater, slipping it up and over my head while I squirmed.
"What the hell, Dex?" I swung my hand out toward him, catching him on the stomach.
He wasn't fazed at all by my pathetic swing. Dex dropped to his knees in front of me, lifting my arm without another word. A crease lined his eyebrows, his mouth set into a grim line. He brushed a tapered, neatly groomed finger over the inside of my arm. One, two, three times. I couldn't feel it well but the act itself seemed more intimate than what we'd done on his bed the day before.
When was the last time I'd let anyone look at my scarring so closely, let alone touched it? Never.
His breathing grew labored, the pressure of his pad increasing before he finally spoke in a low grumble. "You didn't think to tell me about this?" he asked, eyeing the knotted skin. "You didn't think to tell me you're sick?"
"Iwassick, Dex." I tried jerking my arm away but he held it tootight. "I haven't been sick in a long time."
"How long?" His voice was low, hot and seeking.
"I've been in remission for five years."
Dex's body jerked. "A long time is ten years ago, twenty years ago. Not five, Ritz." He shuffled forward on his knees, ducking his head closer to mine. "Not five fuckin' years ago."
"I'm fine, I promise." The assurance fell on deaf ears based on the look he gave me. "My chances of getting it again are pretty slim."
"I don't care," he rasped. The words sounded ripped from his throat.“You had cancer, not the goddamn flu.”
“Dex, it’s nothing.”
“Baby, it’s not fuckin’ nothin’. You wouldn’t be missin’ half your bicep if it was nothin’. You wouldn’t have been hidin’ this if it wasn’t a big deal.This shit is not nothin’ to me.”
Leaning forward, I grabbed his shoulder andpressed my forehead to his nose. "I'm sorry for not telling you before but it's not that big of a deal. I'm okay, and hopefully I'll be okay the rest of my life."
He repeated the last sentence so low I missed half the words. His breath washed over my face, minty with just a hint of cigarette smoke. "Babe, is there somethin' else you haven't told me?"
"No. Nothing important."
Dex shook his head. "You're gonna give me a fuckin' heart attack. You sure?"
I reached up to place my hands on his cheeks. "I'm positive. I promise. That's all."
The tip of his nose drew a line from my forehead to my temple. "Don't do that shit to me again," he pleaded. "Swear to me, Ritz. Tell me you won't drop some shit like that on me again."
His tone. Christ. The tremble in his voice pulled at the threads of tissues in my spine.
My body started shaking. "I swear."
Dex's hands went for my ribs, kneading the skin and bones. "You'll tell me if you start to feel bad? Anything, babe. Any time you start to feel sick, you swear you'll say somethin'?"
I didn't know where this was all coming from. His need for me to tell him something so simple, but I could feel the tension under his skin. He wouldn't take anything but yes from me. Dex wouldn't accept anything less than a promise. "I swear."
He nodded so slowly it seemed painful for him. The breath that left his mouth was a wisp and a flutter, shaky and emotional.“I’ll put you on the insurance plan first chance I get tomorrow. It ain’t that great but I’ll see if I can get you a better policy. You know, in case...” he trailed off, nostrils flaring, face tight.
It made every blood cell in my body redirect itself to my heart, filling it with so much blood, so much life-giving sustenance, that I thought it was going to burst out in a bloody explosion. I wanted to tell him right then everything. About my surgeries, about the timeline of my loved ones' lives, about the sacrifices made that had shaped the outcome of my life.
Tell him everything that had led me here. To him.
But instead of remembering how to string along the twenty-six letters in an alphabet that suddenly didn't seem so important, I tipped my mouth up to brush my lips against his. He let out a long, shuddering exhale that wafted across my mouth, dragging me in deeper to the vortex that was Dex Locke.
