He nodded as he looked back at the screens. “Yeah, but I don’t think those assholes will be back again.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just their posturing. They weren’t very confident in themselves the last time they were in your apartment. They’re losing hope that your laptop is there.”
“Good,” I muttered as I took another bite. “Jackasses.”
He chuckled, but didn’t say anything, and it gave me more time to study him while I ate.
I couldn’t help myself when I spoke again. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“Hmmm?” he asked, not turning to face me.
“The trauma-induced insomnia. By definition, it sounds like it’s not your fault. Do you think maybe some sleeping medication might help?”
I watched the man freeze, as if someone had stopped the tape on his life. “Trauma-induced insomnia doesn’t really work like that.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
My shoulders deflated a little bit as I poked around with my fork at a slice of strawberry. “Well, what if we?—”
“Jasmine,” he said curtly.
I flinched a bit at his tone of voice. “Sorry.”
I promptly went back to finishing my breakfast.
My heart broke for him. Whatever happened to him, it was bad. If those scars I felt the other night when we kissed were any indication of what he had been through, then I had no business speaking on it, anyway.
I just… cared.
I cared that he wasn’t getting sleep.
That couldn’t be good for the body.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said softly, breaking the silence as I took a sip of the coffee. I hummed over it. “This is good, whatever you put in it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said simply, his eyes still glued to those screens.
I wasn’t sure how to break the tension I created, but then, he moved. He kicked his legs off the top of his scratched-up, second-hand desk, the chair thudded back down onto all four legs, and he stood. He turned to me, all stoicism and deep thoughts in those green eyes of his. I watched as he made his way to the edge of the bed and sort of… slumped down onto it.
“Gee?” I asked.
He peered over at me. “Gee?”
I shrugged. “You call me Jaz.”
His eyes crinkled a bit, and I smiled back.
I was glad that I could still make him smile.
He reached out and took my hand in his. “When I was in the military?—”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to say anything, Gee. I don’t need to know your life story to know that you’re a good man who’s in my corner.”
His eyes met mine and he squeezed my hand softly. “I want to tell you.”
