She made a strange sound: part sigh, part wail. Shit, she was sobbing. It crushed him to see her engulfed in pain. Once again, he felt powerless.
“I ruined everything tonight—this was such a huge opportunity for you,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry…”
He blotted her cheeks with his thumbs. “Baby, please don’t cry. That’s not even close to true.”
She tottered like a three-legged table but tried to lift herself. He caught her as she swayed, hugging her against his chest as he lowered himself to the floor.
“The best part of my night—hell, of this whole summer—is you,” he murmured against her ear.
Turning her head, she gazed up at him through tear-slicked eyelashes and a faint smile.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she whispered.
He gave her the most tender kiss he could muster in his stage-weary body, moaning softly as one hand slid through her braids while the other clutched her back. She met each glide of his lips, though she trembled and gripped his shoulders like a life preserver ring.
He wanted to be that for her.
It pained him to do it, but finally, he broke their kiss.
His eyes were still closed, but he almost felt her smile against his lips. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
Jamie laid her on the bed and lit a few candles around the room so he could get to work. He retrieved her medication from the dresser, a small artillery of prescription bottles, pain patches, heating pads, ice rollers, and balms.He brought her water and two ice-cold cans of Coke, which she shared had mystical healing powers for migraine attacks.
Brinton decided the pain was bad enough that he needed to administer an injectable dose of sumatriptan from a syringe that looked like an EpiPen. He balanced it between his fingers, eying it curiously.
“I hate how much it hurts to do this, but it works fast,” she whispered.
He nodded.
“Do I stab it in your chestPulp Fiction–style or…”
She laughed weakly. “I swear to God?—”
“I’m messing with you,” he said, smiling down at her. “Show me what to do.”
She bunched up the hem of her dress to expose her mid-thigh. He ignored the black, lacy edge of her panties and focused on the top of her thigh, where she slid his hand.
He nodded to his bicep. “Squeeze as hard as you need to. Ready?”
She nodded. He applied light pressure with his leveraging hand, positioned the syringe, and released the spring-loaded trigger. She winced, gripping him hard.
Lord, he’d take all her pain if he could.
“Okay?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and exhaled, still gripping his arm. “I think I’ll live to see another day.”
“That’s my girl, so strong.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Everyone thinks Black women are strong because we’re born this way. But when you’re constantly tested, undermined, or ignored altogether, you have no choicebutto be strong.”
His eyes grew glassy. “Oh, honey…”
She smiled earnestly. “It’s fine. I’ve grown to live with it. I think…I want to be strong now, for us.”
His lips brushed against her forehead, and she moaned gratefully.
“Can I run you a bath?” he murmured.
