“Well, come on and sit right here,” the doctor instructed, patting the blue leather seat with all those eye exam contraptions attached to it. “And take your glasses off for me.”
Jaxon slipped his glasses off and handed them to me before standing. He stumbled, and I lurched forward in my seat, my arm latching around his hips to steady him. He gripped my arm, swallowing thickly. It was rare his balance was affected, but today was proving to be one of the rougher days for him. Due to the medication the neurologist put him on, his headaches hadn’t manifested to migraines in weeks, which was a fucking blessing. But he was still dealing with everything else—short term memory loss, his reading comprehension, and his focus. But we were doing good at keeping his frustration with that at bay.
“I’m okay,” he murmured. I slowly released him, and he made his way to the chair, taking a seat in it. I stayed silent, just watching as the doctor did the eye exam and Jaxon answered every question the doc asked him. Once it was over, Dr. Reids shook Jaxon’s hand. “The receptionist will give you a call once your glasses come in.”
“Thanks,” Jaxon said. He looked at me. “Can we go?”
“Yeah, baby.” Standing, I grabbed his hand in mine, then led him from the room. Once we were in the car, Jax drew in a deep, shaky breath, his hands fisting in his lap. I watched him, waiting as the heat blew on us from the vents.
Finally, he said, “I fucking hate this.”
I held my hand out, offering my support. But I wouldn’t force it on him, not when he clearly felt so ripped open and raw. I knew sometimes, touch could be too much when he was already so overwhelmed. But he immediately laced his fingers with mine, then pulled our joined hands to his lap. “It’s permanent,” he whispered.
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “But that doesn’t make you any less of a person, baby. I know this is going to be an adjustment, but we’ll work through it, and we’ll continue finding ways to make things easier on you, okay?” I squeezed his hand, and finally, he turned his head, looking over at me. “We’re in this together, remember? Always.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
I lifted my other hand to cup his jaw, then pulled his lips to mine. Our kiss was soft and slow, wreaking havoc on my soul. But I felt him relaxing the longer we kissed, and it wasn’t until he was leaning into me more and more that I parted our lips and rested my forehead on his.
“You’re mine,” I reiterated, just like I did every time shit got too hard for him to handle on his own. “Lean on me, baby. And don’t lose sight of where your home is, you got me? I’m your home.”
He nodded. “You,” he whispered.
I kissed him again, then stroked my knuckles over his cheek. “Forever, baby.”
Chapter 20
Blaze
My muscles fucking ached, and I knew it was because I was dehydrated. I hadn’t drunk enough water or gotten in enough electrolytes throughout the day before practice, and now, I was paying for it. I barely had the energy to shower, but I was going to manage because I was sweaty and smelled like ass. But as soon as I showered, I was getting my ass home and crashing in bed, dinner be damned. I’d wake up and eat later.
I turned the knob for the shower, then stood under the spray, groaning when the hot water hit my sore shoulders. Hunter passed me and winced. “You look like shit, bro.”
“Oh, fuck you,” I muttered, offering him my middle finger to go right along with it.
He snorted. “Just stating facts. Hydrate and rest tonight. And eat something healthy that’s actually on our meal plan.”
I scoffed. “Are you implying I eat like shit?” I asked in mock-outrage. We both knew I did. I was a slut for pasta.
He laughed. “I’m saying we all eat like shit.” He stepped into the shower stall beside mine. “But seriously, hydrate. The last thing we need with the next game coming up is you catching a preventable injury, yeah?”
I sighed. If I got an injury, I worried what it’d do to Jaxon. He lived vicariously through me when it came to football. If I couldn’t play, where would that leave him?
“Yo, Jaxon!” one of our teammates yelled. “Where the fuck have you been, man?”
Jaxon? What the fuck was he doing here in the locker room? Hunter turned his head to look at me, shampoo in his hair, his brows furrowed. “Did he just yell Jaxon’s name? You heard that, too, right?” Hunter asked, his voice colored with confusion.
“Yeah, I fucking heard it,” I muttered, hurrying to finish showering. But I didn’t need to because Jaxon appeared along the walkway right outside the showers. He leaned against the wall right across from my stall and crossed his arms over his chest, a slow smirk tilting his lips as he ran his eyes over me. And goddammit, my dick hardened. Not a damn thing I could do to even hope to stop it. When he looked at me like that, like he wanted to fucking eat me, what happened to my southern regions was out of my control.
“Nice view,” he teased.
I laughed softly. “Not that I’m not happy about seeing you, but what are you doing here?” I questioned, hurrying to rinse my hair. Now that I’d seen my man, I suddenly had much more energy than I thought I had—like just seeing him had lit another spark within me.
“Coach called me. Apparently, the water boy is dropping out? Something about the military. I can’t remember.” He frowned, looking frustrated. When I cleared my throat, drawing him back to the present and out of his head, he pushed his fingers through his messy dark hair. “He asked if I wanted the position, and that he understood if I sometimes couldn’t make it to a game or a practice due to my headaches and shit.”
“Did you accept?” I asked, hoping he did. This might give him some of the boost he needed to start feeling better. Therapy was beginning to help, but he needed changes in his life too besides just becoming my boyfriend.
He rolled his eyes, then used his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose some. “Would I be in here if I didn’t?” he drawled.
