Page 38 of Puck Me Back to Life

His eyes stay on mine.

“Yellow means slow down.”

A slight nod.

“Green means I'm okay.”

Silence settles briefly between us.

Then he smiles, “Good boy.”

The breath leaves my lungs. The words hit me like a physical thing. I hate how much I like hearing them.

Ash notices. Of course he does. The man misses nothing.

His expression softens slightly. “You okay?”

The question surprises me. I nod quickly. “Yes.”

Then remember myself. “Yes, sir.”

My heart is going to give out before this evening is over. I can already tell. Ash's attention shifts. Not away from me but over me. Evaluating. Thinking.

“How do you feel about pain?”

The question should probably alarm me. Instead, curiosity wins. I think about the conversation downstairs. Trust and control. The certainty in Ash's voice whenever he talks about these things.

Then I think about the constant noise in my own head.

The guilt.

The memories.

The exhaustion.

“I'm okay with it.” The answer comes out more eagerly than intended.

Ash immediately notices. The smile he gives me is slow. Knowing.

My face grows even hotter.

His thumb brushes lightly across my lower lip. The contact lasts less than a second. Still. Every nerve ending in my body seems to become aware of it. I become painfully conscious of my own reactions. The awareness is embarrassing.

Ash seems entirely unbothered by it.

“If we're doing this,” he says quietly, “I need honesty.”

I nod. “Okay.”

His expression remains patient. “Is anything off limits?”

The question catches me off guard. I open my mouth, then close it again. The truth is that I've never thought about it. Never had reason to.

“Nothing.”

One eyebrow rises. The expression says exactly what he's thinking. Are you sure?

I rush ahead anyway. “I'll do anything.”