“It is.”
She fell silent, her eyes screwed tight like she wasn’t only fighting me, but herself.
I didn’t break the silence. Just awaited judgment.
Eventually, she ground out, “I want to see your notes.”
And I inhaled. Deeply. For the first time since that confrontation with Taube.
“On C-L-O?”
“On Red too. Anything else psychotic you have in the pipeline because a mind like yours doesn’t stop and you clearly need a keeper.”
I recoiled. “A woman’s version of Red.”
A cold laugh escaped her. “Equal rights, Stan?”
“My version. It’s proprietary information?—”
Her chin tipped up. “You’ll have to trust that I won’t steal your formula like I’ll have to trust that you’re not going to step out on me to subjugate your enemies’ women.”
“I didn’t mean that. My soul is yours,liunissa. What’s a bunch of research by comparison? I only meant that no one has seen my notes. Not Luc. Not Rory. Don’t bring it up with them, please.” Her shoulders sagged at my easy compliance, so I took a chance to rumble, “You should get some rest.”
“Now is not the time for you to be telling me what to do. I’m sick of the pain and tired of it hurting whenever I breathe and I have weeks left of this.”
“I know?—”
“No, youdon’t.I’m tired of hobbling around like I’m ninety when I dare get up to pee and relying on someone else to grab me some water.” She rubbed her temple. “I want to sleep, and leaning against you is the only way I get any rest, goddammit.”
“I can work in the?—”
“No. Stay with me.” It was a demand, and fuck if that didn’t make me sag with relief. Not only because she hadn’t thrown me out, but because she was living up to her nickname.
Myliunissacould maul me, tear off my balls, claw at me—anything. But she could never leave me.
How the fuck would I live without her?
“Of course I’ll stay.”
“At least if you’re here with me, then I know you’re not out torturing someone or making something heinous to torture someone or?—”
Letting her burn off her righteous funk, I kicked out of my shoes, tossed my jacket on a dresser, and then carefully ambled onto the too-small queen that was just perfect for us.
Apart from now—each jostle of the mattress had her flinching in pain, so I settled behind her, Kitty propped up against me, in a position that had become natural since she’d returned home.
Pain stopped her from putting distance between us, but I didn’t rest my hand on her stomach.
I didn’t have a death wish.
Not anymore.
Not since she’d come into my life.
“Great news about the Stars making it through to round two of the playoffs,” I murmured, hoping that’d cheer her up.
No dice.
“The Bulldogs?—”
