I inhaled deep, holding his rich scent hostage in my lungs until I was forced to exhale. I went to a wall of shelves and trailed my fingers along all the fabric, row after row. I snooped in drawers and found sweatpants that were probably three sizes too big for me.
“Did you get lost?” he called.
“Coming!” I responded and went back to the shelves to pull out a hoodie that my fingers had lingered on a little longerthan everything else. It was red but faded like it had been washed a hundred times. The inside was soft, and the strings were a little bit frayed. Clutching it, I grabbed a white T-shirt off a stack nearby with a logo I didn’t recognize on the front and pulled it over my head. Just like his shirt I had from years ago, this one slid halfway down my thighs, the hem sticking out from beneath the red hoodie once I had it on too. Since his pants were supersized, I went back to the drawers and found more socks than I’d seen in my entire life. I grabbed a long white pair with red stripes and tugged them on, all the way up to my knees.
Out in the bathroom, Ghost made a sound, and I found him at the sink, poking at his stitches.
“What are you doing?” I asked, hurrying over.
“I got them wet in the shower, so I’m replacing the bandage.”
“Let me help,” I said, fussing at his side. He stared at me through the mirror, eyes traveling my length twice.
“I never stood a chance with you.”
“What?”
He spun away from the mirror and grabbed me around the waist. My stocking-covered feet left the floor as he held me in front of him like some sort of doll. “I love you.”
I gasped.
He half smiled. “So you can say it, but I can’t?”
“You can only say it if you really mean it.” My voice was hoarse from the way he’d used me earlier, and honestly, I hoped it never went back to normal.
His eyes narrowed. “You calling me a liar?”
I shook my head, trying to stop the rising tide of tears. “No one’s ever loved me before.”
He lowered my feet to the floor to wrap his arms around me. “I’m sorry I was late.”
My fingers curled into his back, and my eyes squeezed closed. “You were worth the wait.”
“Welcome home, Pip. You’ll never go a day without love again.”
Those tears I’d been holding back spilled over, smearing right between us and all over our skin.
“Are you crying?” he demanded.
“I’m emotionally hydrated!” I wailed.
His laugh bounced around the room, and I felt his lips on the top of my hair. “You mind bandaging me up again?”
Sniffling, I pulled back and nodded. He lifted me to sit on the counter, and I grabbed what I needed out of the kit he already had out.
“You should let the doctor check these again.” I worried, opening a pad of gauze.
“I’m fine.”
“It would make me feel better.”
“Don’t bat those manipulation marbles at me,” he warned.
I fluttered my lashes again.
“Fuck,” he swore. “Fine. But you’re coming with.”
“I have to work,” I said, smoothing the covering over the stitches. I was worried about the wound. It was red and swollen. It probably really hurt.
