More than okay.
We make it back to his house. I’m limping like a mofo, but I manage to hide it. At least I think I have until Ludo shoves me onto the sofa and presents me with a bag of frozen peas.
“Ice it. I’ll make dinner.”
I’m still dreaming of his shower, but I take the peas and gingerly lay them over my throbbing knee. The frigid cold does nothing to ease the tension in my muscles, but it’s a distraction I desperately need. Sometimes I don’t realise how much things hurt until they no longer do. Or something like that.
Ludo brings me a bottle of orange squash and a bag of chocolate bars. I peer inside. “Whoa. You bought the whole shop.”
“I couldn’t decide which one I wanted.”
He says it as though it makes perfect sense to resolve his indecision by clearing the shelf of Mars Bars, Aeros, and Kit Kats. Perhaps to him it does, and something in my mind clicks. I can’t remember what it means, but the chocolate seems ominous as I root through it, searching for the Snickers bars.
Ludo disappears into the kitchen. He comes back with crisps and more chocolate before he vanishes again.
I stare at the loot spread out on the coffee table, chewing on the peanut-caramel concoction and willing it to send enough sugar to my brain for me to wake the fuck up. But I don’t wake up. I eat the chocolate and some crisps and then my dinner, and then I fall asleep with my half-frozen leg surrounded by mess.
* * *
“Aidan. Wake up.”
“Hmm? Wha—” I jerk awake, half throwing myself off the couch. My elbow bangs the coffee table, sending crisp packets flying, and I curse like a drunk sailor.
Ludo shrinks back. “Shit. Sorry. I thought you wanted to be awake.”
“What does that even mean?” I snap, hauling myself upright again.
He stares, eyes wide, and regret hits me like a truck, slamming into my chest and driving all remnants of sleep away. I reach for him, but he evades, and my hands grasp the distance between us.
“Ludo.”
“What? I said I was sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one who bit your head off.”
“I woke you up.”
“So? It’s fuck o’clock and I’m passed out on your couch. Someone had to.”
“I thought you wanted to be awake.”
The repetition gives me pause. “Why?”
He shrugs and looks away. I sit up straighter and force his gaze back. “Why?”
“You didn’t look happy.”
It’s a simplistic answer that tells me everything and nothing. I try to recall if he pulled me from a dream, but my brain is mush. Without the warning lights of his mood, I have no clue which way is up.
Heartbeats thump. Mine. His. Darkness cloaks us, and I suddenly can’t recall how we got here. It’s all a blur: the accident, the hospital, even the first time we kissed. I can’t remember any of it.
I reach for him again, and this time my hands are rough,demanding, and nothing is going to keep me from him.
We tumble from the couch and onto the floor. Thankfully Ludo has thick carpets, but I barely feel the burn of them scraping my skin as I tear at his clothes.
He’s not wearing many—just a vest and some sweatpants. No underwear or socks. I lean back and raise a questioning eyebrow.
“I took a shower while you were asleep,” he pants out. “And washed up, walked Bella, and—”
