He lifts himself up and presses his ear to my chest, eyes closing as he listens. His fingers tap out the rhythm on my ribs, syncing with my heart.
“It’s beating loud,” he whispers, kissing my chest again. “That’s my favourite sound.”
I run my fingers through his silky hair.
“I’ve got a check-up at the hospital next Wednesday. Afternoon slot.”
That gets his attention.
“You want me to come with you? Only if you’re comfortable with that.”
My throat tightens for reasons that have nothing to do with sex.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Who’s it with? Dr. Martinez? She’s lovely.”
I shrug. “Honestly, no idea. I’ll have to check with Jay. He handles all my appointments. He’s been busy lately, sorting things out for Eli.”
Yosh’s brow lifts. “Eli. Your former bandmate?”
“Yeah. Drummer. Married to my sister Cheryl. He’s touring with his new band, Yellow Lightning.”
No reaction.
“They just headlined Vainwood in LA. Never heard of them?”
“No, sorry. I don’t really keep up with pop culture. I’m doing this thing where I try to focus on island life so I don’t get overwhelmed. My world ends where the breakwater starts.”
“Smart. The world’s a shitty place, the island’s a dream.”
Yosh hums in agreement, rolling back comfortably into my arms.
“So, hospital Wednesday afternoon. I’ll need copies of your echocardiogram and ECG to update your file, plus some bloodwork for comparison. Don’t worry. I’ll advocate for you at the hospital.”
I blink. “Update my file? Are you taking the piss?”
Yosh chuckles. “I know more about you than you think, McKenna. I know you had your appendix removed at twenty-five.”
His fingers follow the faint scar on my belly, sending an involuntary shiver up my spine.
“You’re O negative, same as me. Universal donor, terrible receiver. We’re a rare breed. Probably best we look out for each other. You’re also clear of STIs. Last year’s chlamydia cleared up just fine with antibiotics, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
I bark out a laugh. “Oh fuck. That’s… embarrassing.”
“Don’t feel bad. It happens. I had it back at uni.”
“Wild phase?”
“Something like that.”
His palm stays on my stomach, fingers tracing small, absent circles like he’s soothing me, soothing himself. His face is buried in my neck, the shallow exhales like feather strokes against my skin.
“You like this?” he asks softly.
I nod, overwhelmed by how much I do. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”
His thumb brushes the same spot on my ribs again and again.
