Page 81 of Lifeline

The phone beeped as the call ended, and I sighed. “And to think, that’s his version of ‘I’m glad all of you are okay.’ I can’t imagine he’s like that with Colin. He’s tough, but Colin isn’t so tough that he wouldn’t want a little tenderness.”

Aidan let out a deep breath, and I jumped when he gave a little gasp and turned his face away. I set the phone down and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his face around so he had to face me, tears and all. I smiled gently, stroking his hair and letting him speak first if he wanted, or to lie there in his feelings and just…be.

It was another five minutes before he spoke. “You’re all so fucking stupid. Especially you…your brother is a close second.”

“He would be unhappy that he’s in second place on that list,” I said with a smile.

Aidan laughed and then cringed, his hand going to his side. “Ow.”

“That would be the broken ribs,” I told him, pointing down. “You’ve got an ankle so twisted it might as well be broken, and guess what? A fractured kneecap, and you were hypothermic.”

“How is my uptick in training and my ‘duty’ going to work with that?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was hopeful it would put it off, or disappointed.

“Oh, you’d be amazed what you can do with a hurt leg and broken ribs,” I said. “Colin will make sure you’re only doing what you should do in your state.”

“That was probably meant to be comforting, but uh…I’m pretty sure between Colin and Xander, they’re going to team up to make the next few weeks medically safe but otherwise painful and evil,” he said with a sigh. “I deserve it.”

“You do,” I said, stroking his chest. “We’re all going to give you shit, but that’s because you’re still one of ours. You’re just in serious timeout.”

“Does my timeout mean I don’t get any cuddles?” he asked, and it would have been pitiful, but hell, he was pitiful. He was looking down the barrel of quite a lot of shit thrown his way, mostly from love but also just…shit. And he had his ass handed to him by Mother Nature because he’d played hero…for my brother.

“No,” I said. “Not right now, anyway. Maybe when you’re better and the shine of you saving my brother has worn off and I’m just mad at you, but not now.”

“That’s good enough for me,” he said, then grunted when I got up to lie on the bed, my head on his arm. “I was hoping for cuddles.”

“That bed is too small for my big ass,” I snorted.

“I could move over and you could cuddle.”

“Broken ribs, much?”

“Oh…fuck, yeah, you’re right.”

“It happens occasionally.”

He turned his head, threading his fingers with mine. “So…we’ll be okay…one day?”

I wanted to remind him that was if he put in the work, if he never did anything like that again, and if…oh, it was a lot of ifs. And it was all pointless to say; it would just make him feel bad all over again when he already felt like shit and knew all of it anyway. Just like I knew it was pointless on my end because I was already taking the first step on a path that might be long or it might be short toward forgiving him. That wasn’t what he needed out of me; he didn’t need a reminder; he needed his boyfriend.

“We did it once before,” I told him, laying my face on his arm and feeling sleep crawling its way into my head. “We’ll do it again.”

“Good,” he said, and there was a long enough pause that I almost fell asleep. “He was right.”

“Who was?” I asked, stirring back to full consciousness but not opening my eyes.

“Reno.”

“Ugh, about what?”

He chuckled. “I do love you.”

I opened my eyes. He was looking at me with all the warmth, sorrow, regret, and love in the world.

“He was right because I love you too,” I said with a smile.

His fingers squeezed mine. “That’ll…help more than you think, but, uh…let’s try to rest, eh?”

“Sure,” I said, closing my eyes and pushing away all thoughts of what was to come: the struggle and the tribulations, the endless conversations, and the doubts and fears.