“Grey—” I bury my face in his neck as I moan, coming inside my sleep pants. He groans, holding me close. I’mwrapped in his scent, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Kisses land on my neck. He smoothes his fingers through my hair as I lift my head up and stare down at him. This gentle giant of a man. I’m trying so hard to remind myself that sweet words are a mask and behind it there might be danger.
I don’t think Grey wears one, though.
Everything he is is written right there on his face, inside those stormy eyes. Sweet and kind. A little gruff and jaded, but kind in a way I don’t think I’ve ever experienced. His thumb pads along my cheek before he kisses me gently. The rough and sweet tug and pull makes my stomach dip. “You were so good for me.”
Grey’s eyes heat before he drags me in for a scorching kiss. “Just wait, Felix. I’m going to be the best for you.”
SEVENTEEN
Grey
A little groggy from my nap, I walk into the living room and find Felix sitting back with his legs under him, leaning against the arm of the couch. The dim table lamp is on, illuminating whatever he’s reading. When I get closer, I see he’s writing. I’m curious about it. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him writing in this thing.
I come closer, and he jumps a little before an embarrassed smile spreads on his face. “You scared me.”
“I scare most people nowadays.”
Felix smirks, going back to his notebook. “How are you feeling?” He took me to PT earlier, and I’m not sure why, but this time it took a toll on me. I’ve slept on and off with the heavier painkillers I was given, but I’m still not one hundred percent there yet.
“Shitty.” He looks at me. “Not as much pain right now. Just not great.”
He closes the book, looking at me. “I know it’s hard, but you need to take your time. It’s only been about five months,right? You have a lot of healing to do.” He offers me a smile. “You’ll get there.”
He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met. It pisses me off all over again thinking about his ex. How could anyone treat someone so kind so horribly? “Can I ask what that notebook is?” A blush rises on his cheeks. “I’m assuming that’s the one you had when you came here.” If so, then it has to be important.
“I did.” He taps the black cover. “It’s like a journal, I guess. I write down just random things in it. Ideas. What I eat in a day. Movies I want to see. Dreams I have. Just random things like that.” He smiles. “Since I’ve moved here, I can write so many different things. Shows I’ve been watching, music I can listen to... I’m also learning more about hockey, and I’ve been writing the rules and stuff down. It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“I don’t think so.”
“For as long as I can remember I’ve had no one to talk to. I’ve put stuff in this notebook to make me feel like I’m talking to someone. Even if it’s just me.”
“Can I look at it?” His hands tighten on it. “Never mind.” I laugh softly.
“It not that. It’s also, just ... there’s other stuff in it.” He swallows. “Things we’ve done. Things I want to do.” Felix’s expression darkens. “There’s also the bad stuff. I was tracking his moods to see if there was a pattern. Things I could’ve done to avoid it. I felt like I was in control of it somehow if I wrote about it.”
“That’s a lot of things in that notebook.” I try and change the subject.
“It’s almost full. This is like, the eighth one I’ve been through. I used to throw them away when I was done. I didn’t want them left in the house. I’d order them with groceries so he wouldn’t know.” He shows me the nearly fullpages. Note to self: get him a new bullet journal. One he can fill with his joy and love instead of fear and pain. I’ll get him some different kinds of pens. I’ll ask Alyssa. She’s the crafty one.
“Are you up for the game tonight?” Felix smiles with a nod then opens his book. “Can I ask what you’re writing now?” He looks up beyond his glasses before turning the page to me. “What’s this?” I see my name at the top, and it says, “Pain Days.”
“I’ve been tracking how you feel. Days you have less pain, more pain. On the days where you have more, what you did that could have caused it. How to adjust going forward. I log how much you rest, ice it. All that.”
“W-why?”
He shrugs. “I mean, this way I can see if you have a few days where you’re in a lot of pain. Then I can suggest going to the doctor. I thought you might also want to see your progress as you heal.” He flips to the page before it. It’s a calendar he drew. This was back at the end of February when he first moved in. All the squares are red. “You were really bad.” He moves the page to March and most of them are a mix of red, dark orange, light orange, and yellow. There’s a lot more dark orange than anything else. “You were improving and even had some light pain days. Those were the days I made you rest with the ice pack.” He preens.
Then he turns it to April and May. Pain, but more light pain days. I can’t believe he’s tracked all this. Seeing the proof of my progress like this, I... I’ve come a long way in the six months since my accident.
“That’s...” I don’t even know. My chest feels tight. Seeing my progress like this makes it feel more real. When I’m in the thick of all the pain it’s hard to believe I’ve made any progress. Seeing it like this, though... Damn.
Today I’m having a bad day, but the progress is clear, andFelix has kept track of it for me. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not getting anywhere,” I admit.
“I know.” He reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers in mine. “You’re very hard on yourself. It’s okay to slow down. It’s okay to have bad days. It’s okay to feel like you aren’t progressing.” He opens the book. “Just know that it’s not true. You’re getting better. Now you just need to get better up here.” He taps his head. “I just wanted to remind you how far you’ve come. I’m very proud of you.”
I’m at a loss for words. Some days it feels like I’ll always feel like this. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting nowhere. “Thank you.” I clear my throat. “This means a lot to me.”
