“Yeah. I didn’t have to think about anything, just do. There wasn’t time to second guess myself. I trusted you,” I tell him.
“So. you wouldn’t mind us doing that again?” he asks, and I can hear the smirk in his voice as his hand trails down to grab my ass.
“Not at all,” I tell him, getting up on my elbows to kiss him. “I’m looking forward to seeing what else you can make me do.”
“That sassy little mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day,” he says, before bringing my lips back down on his. “You just wait until my leg is strong enough, you little devil.”
Next thing I know, he’s hoisting me by my waist until my knees are around his head and we start all over again.
Chapter 34
Six Weeks Later
The past six weeks with Sloane and Gigi have sped by. It’s like I blinked and it’s already the end of January. Probably because I’ve been so wrapped up in Sloane, rehab, and trying to get back into the graphic design game that I haven’t seen the days go by. But all that’s about to change. Will got rid of my cane two weeks ago and he just announced that in two weeks I’ll be done. No more physiotherapy, no more massage therapy, no more weight training. Nothing. Just in time for Valentine’s Day.
So now I have two weeks to convince Sloane to let me permanently move in with her. We might not have talked about it, but we’ve been living like a real couple for the past six weeks. I haven’t slept in my own bed since we went pottery painting. Hell, I even have an underwear drawer in her dresser and my shirts are hanging in her closet. We’ve even had a couple minor arguments over the last three months.
To me, we’re dating. I just don’t know if Sloane sees it that way. She hasn’t asked me to move in or what my plan is when I’mdone with rehab. If her reaction to my cominghome with no cane three days ago is anything to go by, she thinks I’m leaving.
I’ve gotten to know her on a deeper level since moving in with her. I thought I knew her as well as possible before, but now I can honestly say I know her better than I know myself, just like she probably knows me better than I know myself. I know what every little twitch of her eyebrows, twinge of red on her cheek, every pull of her shirt, and every hairstyle means now. The thing is, I don’t think she realizes just how much I know and notice about her. I know she’s worried, but I also know that sometimes she likes to be alone in her thoughts when she’s trying to figure something out, so not wanting to push my wants on her, I didn’t say a thing when I got home without a cane.
Three Days Ago
I have a surprise for you.
Please tell me it’s not another dog.
Over the last week or so, I’ve been telling her that Gigi needs a little sister. I went as far as reactivating my Facebook to join a few dachshund groups, and have beensending her puppy pictures nonstop. I’ve even threatened to just come home with one—anything to get her to roll her eyes at me.
You’ll have to get home and see.
Liam
It’s not a dog. One day it will be, but not today. Today, I’m a free man. No more cane, no walking aid at all. I can officially walk on my own.
I thought I’d never get here. At one point, I honestly thought I’d have a cane for the rest of my days. But I guess Will’s water therapy worked. Can I run a marathon? No. Can I walk more than seventy-five meters without stopping? No. But one day, I will. One day at a time.
That’s another thing I never thought I’d be—a bright-side guy. But lately, I get the appeal of looking on the bright side, instead of stewing in negativity. I’ve never thought of myself as a negative guy. Do I smile a lot? No. But that doesn’t mean I’m mean, or only think negatively. My therapist actually agreed with me. She said I was just one of those rare people that never sees the glass half empty, but that I never see it half full either, and that maybe I should try seeing the positivity in certain things—to point them out. Will says that my mindset change is what made us see so much progress in the last little bit of rehab.
I honestly can’t say what it’s been, I’m just happy that I can walk on my own again. Not a sentence I ever thought I’d say. Smiling and shaking my head, I move to the kitchen to see what I can whip up for supper. It’s Sloane’s busy day today. She left for the university at seven forty-five to be on time to teach her three-hour-long, nine o’clock class, then she has a short break for lunch, office hours in the afternoon, and a short one-and-a-half-hour class from four to five thirty.
It’s noon right now, so I have time to place a delivery order if need be. I’d make her a lasagna again, but she asked for it last week and I made it then. I can’t make it two weeks in a row.
I’ll call Summer and ask for her opinion. After our call before Christmas, I’ve been making an effort to reach out to her more often. I even sent her a house warming present when she moved into her apartment in Calgary.
Pulling up our text conversation, I press call. A few rings later, a man answers.
“Yeah?”
ThatI was not expecting. “Who is this?” I ask.
“Chase. Who is this?” he asks right back.
I ignore his question. “Where’s Summer? And why are you answering her phone?” I ask. My sister is notorious for not letting anyone near her phone, much less answer it for her.
“Because I can,” he answers in a sharp tone. “Who is this?” he repeats.
“Liam, her older brother. Now, put Summer on the phone,” I say in my own tone. Who the hell does this guy think he is?
