I groaned. “Can I just reschedule my appointment?” The neurologist had gotten my MRI results back quickly and wanted to see me that morning, but fuck, I was not in the mood to be out and about, and I wasn’t sure I could handle the bright as fuck sunlight outside or the almost-halogen-like lights in the doctor’s office.
“No, Jax, you cannot.” His voice was firm, and I knew he wouldn’t hear any argument about it. “Besides, maybe she can do the Botox injections today, and it’ll provide some relief. I know it’s not ideal for you to be out of the apartment when you feel like this, but we have to go.”
I huffed when he grabbed me beneath my arms and forced me to sit up. I opened my mouth to snap at him, only to gag. He quickly grabbed the trashcan he kept beside his bed and thrust it in front of me. My stomach roiled once more, and then, I threw up stomach acid and the remainder of my dinner from the night before. Blaze ran his hand through my hair and rubbed my back until I was done spewing, then took the trash can from me and set it aside.
“Shower. I’ll deal with the trash in a bit.” He helped me up from the bed, then walked with me to the bathroom, where he’d kept the light off. I groaned once I was beneath the hot spray of water, finding a tiny bit of relief in the heat wrapping around my pounding skull.
Blaze stepped inside a moment later holding a small cup of mouthwash, which I gratefully took from him. After rinsing my mouth out, I spit it down the drain. He wrapped his arms around me, molding our bodies together, then leaned down to kiss me soft and slow. I sank into him, letting him support me. “Let me take care of you?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. “Please,” I whispered.
He kissed me again. “Always, Jax.” Then, he gently turned me to face away from him and began to wash my hair, then soaped up the rest of me. And after, while I was sitting on the corner seat in his shower, I got to watch as he bathed himself. My dick got hard as I watched him soap up because of fucking course it did, but Blaze and I both ignored it, knowing I was in no condition to be doing anything remotely sexual.
Even if watching him run his hands over his entire body was sensual as hell.
We didn’t exchange words as he helped me from the shower, dried me off, and stood with me as I brushed my teeth while he dealt with my wet hair, blow-drying it and brushing it out. Then, he slid my glasses on my face and led me to his room, where he gave me a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies to wear.
“Oh, I bought you these,” he said, handing me a box. I frowned as I opened it, revealing a pair of extremely dark shades that could be worn over my prescription glasses. “The reviews said people found they helped with the light when having migraines. Thought you might want to try them.”
I blinked at him, my chest too fucking tight. “Thank you,” I said, meaning it.
He grinned. “Anytime, baby.” He took them from me, opened them, then slid them over my glasses. And fuck, he was right. They did help. “Let’s get the food off the stoop, eat what you can, then we need to head out.”
I nodded, and when he grabbed my hand in his, linking our fingers together, I clung tightly, thankful I had him not only as my boyfriend but my best friend.
I didn’t know what the fuck I’d do without Blaze by my side.
Chapter 18
Jaxon
After my appointment with the neurologist, where I got my first round of Botox shots, Blaze took me right back home, where I curled up on my bed and went to sleep, my head damn near splitting open. Food was a fucking joke, and the mere thought of trying to swallow anything made me want to puke. I was sort of aware of Blaze checking on me occasionally, but for the most part, I stayed asleep.
“How is he?” I heard Hunter ask as I slowly woke up. A glance at my phone told me it was damn near seven in the evening, which meant football practice was over—practice Blaze had once again missed because of me. Guilt swirled in my gut. I was holding him back from so much.
“Sleeping. He had his first round of Botox injections today. Doc said it could take anywhere from two weeks to a month to see any kind of relief, but if it does work for him, it’ll take about three rounds of injections before we begin seeing any notable change.”
“How often are the shots?” The sound of the cabinets opening reached my ears.
“Every twelve weeks. But the neurologist seems optimistic. Without surgery, Botox is probably something he’ll be doing the rest of his life since he definitely has compressed nerves, which she believes also is the reason he’s struggling to retain information and is the reason his short-term memory isn’t always one hundred percent.”
“Will he do surgery?”
“No,” Blaze told him. “And I won’t push him. He’s fine just as he is. I don’t need him to change back to who he used to be. I only want that for him if it’s something he wants. I won’t push him to have surgery if it’s something he’s not comfortable with.”
“Understandable,” Hunter said. “I wasn’t insinuating he needed to be who he was before all of this.”
Blaze heaved a sigh. “I know,” he said quietly. “I just worry he thinks he needs to be the old him, and it makes me think others think that way about him, too. Jaxon will never be who he was again, but that’s fine. He’s perfect just as he is. His new disabilities don’t make him any less of a man or any less my boyfriend.”
My heart clenched in my chest, and something loosened in me all at once. Those were the words I’d desperately needed to hear. That I wasn’t somehow less because of what’d happened to me. That he loved me just as I was and didn’t think I needed to change or somehow switch back to who I was before I received an injury that changed how my brain worked.
Tossing the blankets aside, I sat up and rubbed at my gritty eyes. My migraine had dulled to a headache, which meant I should be able to stomach eating and taking the new medication my neurologist had prescribed me. I headed to the bathroom and emptied my bladder, then washed my hands. When I made my way to the kitchen, I found Hunter and Samuel sitting at the bar with plates of food in front of them. Hunter had a grilled chicken sandwich and sweet potato fries—fucking gross—and Samuel had a greasy burger and tater tots.
“Hey,” Blaze greeted, smiling at me from where he was standing at the kitchen counter across from Hunter and Samuel. “I ordered wanton soup for you. Thought you’d want something lighter than a sandwich or burger. How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” I told him. He tugged me toward him once I was close enough and leaned down to kiss me. My cheeks warmed, and my fingers curled into the sides of his t-shirt that repped our college. All too soon, he parted our lips and pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose.
“Sit down. I’ll pour you up some soup.”
