“Perfect. The front desk will schedule his follow up appointment. Take care of him.”
“I will.”
46. Théo
Getting Derek to the car was an adventure.
I’d driven his Lexus—the black SUV that was part spaceship—and pulled it right up to the entrance. Smart thinking on my part, because walking was proving to be more challenging than expected for my heavily sedated boyfriend.
“Left foot,” I instructed, my arm tight around his waist. He was heavier than he looked, all solid muscle, and he kept listing to the side like a ship in a storm. “Now right foot. There you go. You’re doing great.”
“I feel like a baby deer.”
“You look like one too. Very Bambi on ice.”
“That’s mean.”
“I’m a mean person. Watch the curb.”
I manoeuvred himinto the passenger seat with more effort than I’d anticipated, buckling his seatbelt like he was a child. He blinked up at me with those big brown eyes, dopey and trusting, and something in my chest twisted painfully.
I rounded the front of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was soft, the dashboard sleek and modern. Everything about this vehicle screamed money.
“Your car is very fancy,” I told him as I pushed the ignition button.
“It was a signing bonus thing. M’kenzie picked it out.” He blinked slowly, his words slurring together. “I sh-should probably stop mentioning her, huh?”
“She was a big part of your life.”
“It still sucks.”
“I know it does.” I pulled out of the parking lot, handling the SUV carefully. It drove like a dream—smooth and responsive—but it was bigger than anything I was used to. “Just relax. We’ll be home soon.”
Home.The word slipped out without thinking. Like his apartment was my home too.
Maybe it was. I spent more time there than at Avery’s these days. My toothbrush was in his bathroom. My clothes were in his closet. Aspen greeted me at the door like I belonged there.
Derek let his head loll against the headrest, watching the city slide by through the window. His jaw was swollen, his cheek already starting to bruise, and there was gauze packed into his mouth that made him look vaguely chipmunk-esque. He was still the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
“When we get home, I’m going to watch YouTube,” he announced.
“Okay?”
“Videos of you skating.” The words came out slow and syrupy, tumbling over each other like he couldn’t quite control them. “I got a whole playlist. From before. So purty.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Derek...”
“So purty when you skate. Like you’re flying. I want to fly.” He smiled, that goofy, unguarded smile that the sedation had unlocked. “I knew I was in trouble the first time I saw you skate. At the rink. You were doing a spin and your hair… The light. Ugh. I thought... I thought, ‘Wow, he cannot be real.’“
The lane detection went off as my focus wavered from the road. I corrected it, my jaw tight, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“You can’t just say things like that,” I managed, my voice strained.
“Why not? S’true.” He reached over clumsily and patted my arm, missing twice before making contact.
“You’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow,” I said finally.
“Prolly not.” He yawned, wincing as the motion pulled at his jaw.
