“I’m more embarrassed than anything else,” she admitted.
“Are they keeping you overnight?”
“Nope,” the doctor said, coming in the room. She tapped her clipboard. “She doesn’t have a concussion, so you are free to take your fiancée home, Mr. Svensson.”
* * *
“Canyou make the drive back to Manhattan?” I asked in concern, hovering around Avery as she walked to my car.
“Blade,” she grumped, “I’m fine.”
I still insisted on carrying her upstairs to the condo when we returned.
“I can walk. I’m just stiff and I need a shower.”
“You can take a bath,” I told her.
Cesario hopped around when he saw her. “She almost didn’t make it,” I told the rabbit.
“It’s adorable how you’re talking to him now,” Avery said with a soft laugh.
“He and I have reached an understanding,” I said, going into the bathroom to turn on the water for her.
“You don’t have to,” she complained as I reached to help her with her shirt. “I’m angrier that I didn’t get a slice of the penis cake.”
I sat in the bathroom on the counter while she bathed and helped her wash her hair. I was feeling possessiveness and an ache that was strange but in a good way. I didn’t know if it was love, but what else would you call it when you’d rather set yourself on fire than see someone you cared about hurt?
52
Avery
Blade handed me a painkiller and some water.
“Maybe you should have just crushed this up in my smoothie.”
“I think that’s a bad idea,” he said as I took the pill.
“Yeah, I’d probably fall off another dick.” That earned me a half smile.
“I’m sorry you missed your bridal shower,” Blade said as I sipped the mixed-berry smoothie.
My nose felt a lot worse. The smoothie was cooling though. “It’s probably for the best,” I said. “There were an awful lot of penises.”
“And none of them were the one you wanted?” he joked.
“You can’t possibly want me. I look like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer after a rough night.”
Blade kissed me on my forehead. “You look beautiful.”
“Yes,” I said, pretending to fan myself. “Lie to me and tell me that I’m still going to look beautiful even when wearing that eighties wedding dress monstrosity.”
“It’s not a lie,” he said, suddenly serious. “You look beautiful in anything you wear.”
I laughed nervously. Blade and I were supposed to keep boundaries, even though I had been stripping my clothes off and leaping over said boundaries.
“At least the crazy dress will go with the big, fat, insane wedding.” The painkillers were starting to kick in, and I was having hazy visions of what it would feel like to walk down the aisle to see Blade standing there. I refused to admit it, but a part of me realized I was falling for him. I looked forward to waking up to him, to these small moments we shared together.
“It’s sad, because tasteless design sure does seem to be expensive. I haven’t even figured out how much this is costing and who’s paying what. With people just randomly scheduling potlucks, my spreadsheet is all over the place,” I continued.
