“I’m standing here.”
“You know what I mean.”
His eyes searched mine.
“Why would I get tired of you?”
“Because you could have someone who doesn’t need a recovery plan for sex. Someone who can work all day. Someone who remembers meeting you.”
Pain crossed his features before he controlled it.
“Do you think I love you because you are efficient?”
“No.”
“Because you can carry a battery?”
“No.”
“Because you remember every year?”
I looked down.
His thumbs moved beneath my eyes.
“I loved you when you were arrogant enough to tell me my entire inventory system was wrong during your interview.”
“That does sound arrogant.”
“It was.”
A small smile tried to surface and failed.
“I loved you when you slept through alarms, forgot to buy groceries, and nearly set the sail loft on fire with a heat gun.”
“I did not.”
“You melted a canvas strap.”
“Different category.”
“I loved you when you were strong. I loved you when you were unconscious. I loved you when you woke and asked me whether I was hospital security.”
I closed my eyes.
“And I love you now.”
His forehead touched mine.
“This version of love is not a waiting room, Noah. I am not standing here until the man from before returns.”
Something in my chest gave way.
I wrapped my arms around him.
Reid held me tighter.
“I feel useless,” I admitted.
