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He smiled up at me with this adorable drunk expression.
“Gimme a kiss,” he purred.
Shaking my head, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
“Don’t leave me,” he groaned then, face contorting in pain. “I’m no more good…but don’t go?”
“What?”
“I’m…broken.”
I shook my head. “You’re not broken.”
Johnny groaned as if he was in pain.
“No more…rugby,” he slurred and then shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He nodded solemnly. “It does.”
“Look at me—” I tilted his face to mine. “Johnny Kavanagh, open your eyes and look at me.”
With a great deal of effort, he did.
I waited several beats for him to focus on my face before I continued.
“You are worth so much more than rugby.” I kissed his lips because, quite frankly, I had an issue with inappropriate kissing when it came to this boy. “If you never picked up a rugby ball for the rest of your life, it wouldn’t matter to me.”
“I think I need you for keeps,” he slurred.
“I think I need you for keeps, too,” I confessed.
“You are so pretty,” he slurred. “That very first day. Boom.”
“Boom?” I giggled.
He nodded solemnly. “Boom.”
“Listen, I’m going to go and sit in the chair right next to your bed,” I coaxed him as I tried to untangle myself from his wires and slippery hands. “So you can get some sleep.”
Johnny shook his head and pulled me closer. “Sleep with me.”
“Johnny, you’re just after surgery,” I sighed. “You need to rest.”
“If this is love, then it’s you,” he replied, dragging me down to lie beside him.
“Huh?” I asked as I slid onto my side and tried my best not to poke at his legs.
“You,” he mumbled sleepily, dropping a heavy arm around my shoulders.
“Me what?” I whispered as I placed my hand on his stomach and snuggled into his side.
“You are love.” He sighed contently. “Stay with me.”
Always.
“I’ll stay with you,” I whispered, feeling more in this moment than I could handle.
