“So am I.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “But I’m not sorry I got you from it.”
It wasn’t about having one over the other. There was no choice to be made. What if’s were pointless. Life happened, and this was the outcome. If they could both find something beautiful from a tragedy, then why would they deny it?
“Come on.” He dropped his hands from her face and grabbed her hand, leading her to the couch in the living room. When she sat, he walked back into the kitchen, coming out with two beers.
He took the seat next to her, handed her a beer, and she took a sip.
“You never told me why you needed the transplant.”
Addison lifted her brows, smirking. “Well, you never asked.”
Cross settled on the couch. “I’m asking now.”
“I was born with a hole in my heart, which is actually not as rare as you may think. For most, the hole closes up on its own, and it never becomes an issue. For me” —she paused, clearing her throat— “I was part of the smaller fraction affected. It never really held me back when I was young. It’s not like I was a sports star.” She snorted, which rolled into a chuckle. “I was one of those ‘I’ll try anything once,’ but I never excelled in any of them. I liked the social component.”
“Still like that,” Cross said.
“Not really.”
“Wasn’t asking. Telling you what I see.” He lifted his beer, taking a sip. “So, what changed?”
“Nothing right away. I had a basic normal childhood. When I graduated, my parents wanted me to go to the local college,but the thought of four more years in school was not what I wanted. So, I got a server job. I was awful at the beginning. But I liked the tips and the freedom to sleep in. Got this shitty little apartment with my friends. When I turned twenty-one, I got my bartender’s license and worked the circuit. Not gonna lie, I loved it.” She snickered, resting her head on the back of the couch. “It’s not prestigious or glamorous, but I really enjoy meeting people, bullshitting and making kickass drinks. And then um” —she shifted her gaze to the space between them— “everything changed.”
“Yeah?”
Addison flattened her lips, nodding. She wasn’t naïve enough to think Cross wouldn’t push for more.
“I got, what I thought was the flu. No big deal except it didn’t go away, so after a few weeks and a lot of encouragement from my parents, I went to see the doctor.” She shrugged and leaned back on the couch. “I thought I’d get a prescription and be back to my old self a few days later. After the visit, my doctor sent me for a bunch of tests. Then to a few specialists. I thought it was so over the top. Turns out, I was wrong. I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy. Depending on the severity, it can be treated a few different ways. And trust me, my doctors exhausted all avenues. But in the end, unfortunately, I required a heart transplant. Got on the list. Waited, and well” —her voice thinned, and she forced a smile, whispering— “you know the rest.”
Cross stared back at her but hadn’t said a word. It was impossible to read his emotions or thoughts.
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
Cross narrowed his gaze. “Doctor visits. Tests. Diagnosis. Heart transplant. Sounds like you’re leaving some shit out.”
I am.
“It was a dark time. Not only for me but my family too. I’m pretty sure it was all my mom thought about during the fourteen months that I spent on the waiting list. She would randomly call me and ask if I’d heard anything.” Addison chuckled. “Like she wouldn’t be the first person I told?”
His brows furrowed. “You waited over a year?”
She nodded. “It had to be the perfect match.”
Cross may have wanted to know, and she appreciated him asking, but Addison wanted to leave the past behind her.
“Can we talk about something else?”
Cross’s hand slid over her ankle and around her calf, tugging lightly. Words were unnecessary. She placed her beer on the coffee table, climbed over the couch and straddled his lap. He swept her hair over her shoulders, grasping her neck and pulling her closer.
“How about we stop talking,” he muttered seconds before his lips grazed over hers.
Perfect!
****
Kissing this woman would never get old. Neither would being inside of her. It was the only thing on his mind at the moment. He’d purposely put everything they’d just spoken about to the side.For now.It was what she wanted. What Addison needed. It was almost strange to be so aligned with her. He sensed she was hesitating, holding back during their talk. Not so much about Knox but her experience. As she said, it was a dark time. Cross had his fair share, and he’d respect hers.
