He nods, a slow confirmation that he knows he messed up. “I know. I didn’t handle it right.” He exhales roughly, raising his hand to rake through the sides of his already disheveled hair. “I’ve been an ass to my mom, too.”
“I imagine she’s been beside herself trying to help.”
He nods again, and I push up to sit at the edge of the bed with my back to Lukas as I face out the window. His palm comes up to rub slow, soothing lines up and down my back.
“How was your performance last night?”
I twist to look at him over my shoulder. My performance after Grayson called me was awful. I had tears in my eyes the entire time. My pirouettes were a half second off because all I could think about was packing my bags and heading to the airport to make the next flight back home. I’ll receive backlash for pulling out of Sunday’s performance and having my understudy take over, but to be here with Lukas? It was worth it. “It was fine. It wasn’t last night, though.”
His brows furrow together, and he reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand, tapping the screen to see that it’s dead. “What day is it?”
“Monday.”
“Christ.” He lets out an aggravated exhale with his eyes fixated on the ceiling. “I’ve been lying in this bed for days.”
“Yeah, and you sure smell like it, too.”
I stand before he can playfully swat at me, stepping back from the bed. I raise my arms above my head, stretching my hips right and left before reaching for him. “Come on, my wounded soldier. Let’s get you out of those clothes and into the shower. Then we’re going to go downstairs, you’re going to eatsomething, and apologize to your mom for being a jerk. Then we’ll go for a walk around the farm so you can get some actual sunshine.”
“Since when do you think you’re in charge?” he teases.
I tuck my palm under his good arm and help him sit up. He sways for a minute, eyes squeezing together. “Nevermind. A diet of pain pills and anger isn’t as cracked out as they make it seem.”
“No crap.” Nerves swirl in my stomach at how many he’s been taking. His mom was still up when I arrived late last night, her own anxiety about what’s happened to her son keeping her awake. Lukas is the quintessential middle child, the independent yet rebellious one, the one that will give us all gray hair at a young age. But he is also her youngest boy, and even though he won’t let anyone see it but me, he’s the most sensitive of all the Hart siblings. “Maybe we can switch to something less strong? I know you need something to manage the pain, but I don’t like the idea of you drugging yourself…” I grip the hem of my sweater, stretching the fabric before pulling it overhead. “Makes me nervous.”
His broad palm reaches out to squeeze the back of my thigh, and with more force than expected, he tugs me to him with a yelp. “You fly all this way just so you could tell me what to do, baby?”
I lean down so my lips are barely hovering over his. “If that’s what it takes for you to get your head out of your ass, then yes.” I plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Now, get your butt up, Hart. It’s time to get you cleaned.”
He groans, and his grip tightens on my leg as I try to turn. “I don’t think I have the energy, nurse, can you give me a sponge bath?” When I twist back to look at him, I flip him my middle finger, and he laughs, slowly pushing off from the bed to stand. “I’m taking your silence as a maybe.”
CHAPTER 8
Magnolia
Ilean inside the shower to spin the handle, letting it run for a few minutes before we even bother trying to climb in. The steam slowly begins to fill the bathroom, and I reach up to gently loosen the sling from Lukas’s shoulder.
We work in slow movements as I slide his arm out. He holds it protectively against his side.
“Your mom said not to move it much, and we’re supposed to cover the bandage with plastic.” Lukas watches curiously as I gently lay the plastic wrap across his arm, taping it around the edges so water won’t leak through. Now that it’s out of the sling and into the light, I let my fingers freely trace the tattoo on his bicep. “I like this.”
Lukas watches my fingers move. “Seems stupid to have it now.”
“Why’s that?” I ask softly.
He goes to shrug his shoulder, then grimaces. “Fuck, it’s like I keep forgetting it’s useless.” He takes slow, steady breaths in through his nose; his head tilted back, nostrils flaring with each breath. “Seems stupid to have a tattoo for a team I no longer play for,” he says, referring to my earlier question.
“Don’t make any rash decisions when you’re like this,” I remind him. “You will drive yourself crazy with all the what-ifs. You’re a couple days out from surgery, we don’t know where you’ll be a few months from now.”
Before he can argue with me, I tuck my hands in the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down his thighs. They sink to his ankles, and even though he’s weak, exhausted, and recovering from surgery, he adjusts his stance, staring down at me with a devilish look in his eyes.
“Don’t you look at me like that, Lukas. I’m going to ignore the half-hard monster between your legs because there is no way you have stamina for anything right now.” I pull open the curtain, the metal coils sliding against the rod, and gesture for him to sit on the built-in shower bench.
He gives me a playful pout, jutting out his bottom lip. “I think I read once that sex heals a shoulder injury.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” I offer a hand as he steps over the small lip of the walk-in shower. “I didn’t know you picked up medical literature in your spare time.”
He slowly bends to sit on the bench, his eyes never once leaving my body. His hand comes out to splay over my hip and his thumb grazes the hem of my spandex shorts. “I might be in pain, sweetheart,” he says as he slides his hand up to palm my chest, my nipples immediately pebbling through my cotton sports bra. “But I haven’t seen my beautiful girlfriend in over a month, and she’s a fucking sight to be seen.”
