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The scowl came out, but he couldn’t hold it. He knew I was right. And I understood him. Quitting cold turkey was never easy, and he’d taken his responsibilities at work more seriously than most. Trying to locate his work phone didn’t mean he wasn’t taking his recovery just as seriously; I probably would’ve wanted to inspect the damage too. But this was where I put my foot down. I wasn’t going to allow him to check those messages, because nothing could change. He wasn’t going back, and therefore, it was pointless.
“I’m not trying to get back to work, if that’s what you think,” he grumbled.
“I know you’re not.” I opened a cupboard to grab two mugs. “Habits are hard to break, that’s all.”
He sighed and leaned back against the counter. “Yeah. As stupid as it sounds, I suppose I wanted to see how many of my clients were cursing me to hell for abandoning them.”
“I’m sure there are a few of those. I’ve met some of the douchebags you worked with.” I poured us some coffee and handed him a mug. Just a few sips, and then I’d go shower.
“God,” he chuckled tiredly. “I sound like a masochist.”
Well.
I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You’re my masochist.”
He quirked a smirk and side-eyed me. “Does that make you my Sadist?”
I’ll be your whatever you want.
Fuck, the words were right there on the tip of my tongue, about to fall out, but I stopped myself. Something was going on with me, and I didn’t know what. So I chuckled instead, and I said nothing on the matter. I chose to circle back to our previous topic about us heading over to the house earlier. And I went further.
“We need to let off some steam,” I said. “Have some drinks, let the boys get tipsy…”
Cam had gotten his first night of proper sleep yesterday, so he was finally on the mend. I didn’t know if he’d be up to participating in the event today, but he could do with a spiked hot drink and possibly more exciting food than chicken soup.
“Daddy!” I heard Noa yell upstairs.
“Yeah, baby?” I called back.
“Can I get waffles for breakfast?”
“Sure thing!” I had an easy-to-follow recipe that Cam had made me. I didn’t wanna wake him up. “What do you say—waffles after I’ve showered?” I took another swig of my coffee.
Lucian lifted his brows. “Am I allowed?”
I grinned. “Of course you are. You just can’t have them every day.”
“Oh.” He stood a little taller and smiled a little. “Fuck yeah, waffles.”
He could be so goddamn cute. It made me wanna drag him with me into the shower.
“Here’s an idea,” I said and leaned in. “Shower with me.” I kissed him briefly.
Warmth seeped into his expression, and he pulled me closer. “Okay. Downstairs bathroom.”
Of course. It was a little smaller than the one upstairs, but it had a comfier chair for me.
A couple minutes later, I was stepping into the shower, and Lucian dimmed the lighting a bit.
“Romantic,” I noted.
“Less hospital-like,” he corrected.
I chuckled and turned on the water before taking a seat in the corner. Our bathrooms had been renovated for more money than anything else in the house, including the pool area, and no fucking regrets. It was the one place I needed 100% comfort. From the imported tiles that I couldn’t slip and fall on my ass on, the best water pressure, comfortable seating, everything within reach, and I could come and go however I wanted, whether I was walking or I was in my wheelchair.
Lucian watched me through the glass as he removed what had become his stay-at-home uniform. Sweats and one of my college tees. And he turned a little pensive.
“I’ve been thinking about us a lot this week,” he admitted. “How far we’ve come, I mean.”
