“Easy.” His hand hovers near my shoulder, not quite touching. “The doctor said no sudden movements.”
“The doctor can kiss my ass.”
He smiles. “I’ll pass that along.”
Despite everything, a small laugh escapes me. Then I wince because laughing hurts. Everything hurts.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
“It was an SUV.”
“You said that already.”
“You keep forgetting.”
“I have a concussion. I’m allowed to forget things.” I squint at him. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere? Running a club? Intimidating small children? Stealing candy from seniors? Whatever it is you do all day?”
His mouth twitches. “Tank’s handling things.”
“For how long?”
“As long as I need.”
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, I shake my head—gently, because even that hurts.
“Stone. You can’t just... camp out in my hospital room indefinitely.”
“Watch me.”
“That’s not—” I blow out a breath, frustrated. “You don’t have to do this. Whatever guilt thing you’ve got going on, whatever obligation you feel—you’re off the hook. Go home. Get some sleep. I’m fine.”
A frown flickers across his face. “Is that what you think this is? Guilt?”
“What else would it be?”
He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he pulls the chair closer to the bed and sits down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Eight months ago,” he says slowly, “I made a mistake.”
“Stone—”
“Let me finish.” His eyes hold mine, and I find I can’t look away. “I told you we couldn’t. I stepped back when everything in me was screaming to step forward. And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”
My heart is doing complicated flips in my chest. I ignore it.
“You had your reasons.”
“I had excuses cause I’m a fuck head.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I’ve spent years keeping everyone at arm’s length. That if I don’t let anyone in, I can’t hurt them—or get hurt myself.”
“Very healthy coping mechanism,” I mutter.
“I never said I was healthy.” A ghost of a smile. “But then you almost died, and I realized—” He stops. Starts again. “I realized I’d rather have you and lose you than spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been.”
