I helped him up, keeping my arm around his waist as we walked to my truck. He was steady enough, but I wasn’t taking chances.
“I should drive you home,” I said.
He nodded, which told me how badly he was feeling. He would’ve protested otherwise.
The drive was quiet. Pascal closed his eyes, looking exhausted. My heart ached to see him like this. When we arrived at his place, Mr. Dowdell was already at the door.
“Everything okay?” he asked, concerned.
“His blood sugars dropped a little too low,” I explained. “I’ll help him up to his room.”
Mr. Dowdell’s eyes softened. “Take care of your man, son.”
I smiled despite the situation. It had been a long time since anyone had called me “son.” “I wouldn’t dream of letting him deal with this alone.”
“You’re a good man, Stanton.”
I guided Pascal upstairs to his room, a cozy space filled with books. He sank onto his bed with a sigh.
“Do you need anything?” I asked. “More juice? Something to eat?”
“No, I’m okay now. Just tired.”
I helped him out of his shoes and socks, then his cardigan. When I reached for his belt, he gave me a sleepy smile. “Not how I imagined you undressing me tonight. I had hoped for something more sexy.”
“There will be other times.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
Once he was down to his boxers, I helped him into bed, pulling the covers up. His phone beeped again, and he checked his glucose levels on the app connected to his monitor. “Much better. One-twenty.”
“Good.” I smoothed down his covers.
He caught my hand. “Just stay with me?”
I couldn’t resist those brown eyes, especially not when they looked at me with such trust. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
I sat beside him on the bed, and he immediately curled into my side. I wrapped my arm around him, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “For taking care of me.”
“Always.” The word came out before I could stop it, loaded with meaning. Because that’s what I wanted, to always be there for him, to take care of him, to…to love him.
Love. The realization hit me like a thunderbolt. I was falling in love with Pascal Winfield.
I looked down at him as his eyes fluttered closed. His breathing evened out within minutes, but I stayed a little longer, watching him sleep. My heart felt too big for my chest yet too small to contain this big emotion inside of me.
Love.
I’d never felt this way about anyone, ever. Oh, I’d had boyfriends and girlfriends before, had even lived with two of them, but none had made me feel like this.
Did Pascal feel the same?
7
PASCAL
Iwas so not looking forward to this call.
With a deep sigh, I grabbed my phone to call my mom. She was amazing and loved me the way I was, but she was also a tad overprotective, perhaps because of my diabetes and my being gay. That meant telling her about my hypo a few days ago was not going to be fun.
