Caleb said he loved me, and I catalogued it the way I did everything that matters—tone, timing, the absence of hesitation. Love wasn’t a variable I experience the way he does, but if Caleb loved me, then it meant I was the one he factored into decisions. That was something I could work with. I didn’t need to feel it the same way to understand its function; I just needed to learn what it required from me, where it held, where it could break, and how to maintain it. Because if his love was fixed on me, then I would make sure it remains.
“I love you,” he repeated.
I adjusted for that.
“Noted,” I said.
He produced a sound that could have been a laugh or something else entirely, then leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t need to.
He was already where he belonged.
A weekinto my enforced bedrest and we were in the kitchen at Doc’s, making coffee, and I sat at the table because I was allowed to be vertical for an hour at a time, and watched Caleb.
He moved the same way he worked—efficient, no wasted motion—except softer at the edges, slower, because he didn’t have to be sharp here. He found the mug he’d seen me reach for once. He filled it the way he’d watched me fill his. He carried it back to the table without spilling and set it down at exactly the angle I would have set it down myself.
I cataloged that.
I didn’t have a file for it.
TWENTY-NINE
Caleb
The sterile scentof antiseptic still hung in the air, even though the medical equipment had been cleared days ago. Now, it was only the two of us, the heavy oak bed frame creaking under Novak’s weight as he shifted, restless. Two weeks of enforced stillness had turned his usual precision into something edgier, and I wasn’t sure what to do when the big man stared at me as if I had all the answers.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the way his broad shoulders tensed beneath the thin cotton of the borrowed T-shirt. The fabric stretched over the inked cross on his chest, the tattoos dark against his pale skin. He wasn’t looking at me, but as always, he would know what I was doing, and his fingers twitched against the mattress, the only sign of irritation. The man was going stir-crazy, and worse—I was feeling the stress too. I’d been sleeping beside him for the last week, close enough to smell the soap on his skin, and cuddle into him at night. No sex. No release. Just the slow, maddening buildup of tension, every time his thigh brushed mine in the night.
“Doc says he told you you’re clear to bug out of here,” I said, voice low.
His dark eyes flicked to mine, unreadable. “Yes.”
“But you’re not packed and ready to go.”
“Something’s wrong.”
“What?” I pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer; the floorboards were cool beneath my bare feet. The late afternoon light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting gold across the scars on his side and the rigid set of his jaw. Most of the damage had knitted back together, and his movements were easier, but he was still dealing with pain.
He was still for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose.
“You’re not in here with me,” he said, and sounded so damn put out that it made me smile. “And I want to make you feel good again, in case you change your mind and decide I’m not enough.”
“That’s not going to happen, Leon. I already told you that.”
“People who are together have sex.”
“Some do; some don’t.”
I leaned over him to kiss his nose. His hands stayed flat on the mattress, fingers splayed, but I felt the shift in him—the way his breath hitched.
“Come on the bed with me,” he said, and I took off my shirt, pushed down my sweats, tossed both aside, and climbed onto the bed, ready to curl up next to him. Only, he gripped my leg and stopped me, instead gesturing for me to straddle his thighs, which I did with care. He was okay sleeping on his back, but I knew he wouldn’t tell me even if I did hurt him. I could see the dark stubble shadowing his jaw, the faint scar cutting through his eyebrow.
“I’ve never had this issue before,” he said. “It’s a strange feeling.”
“Being hard?” I wriggled on him a little, and he hissed.
