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“Do you want to…have an antioxidant smoothie and watch the draft on ESPN?”
She patted the bed, looking at me hopefully.
The draft sounded promising. But the smoothie, which would be filled with kale and some weird green powder that Hannah insisted was good for me, was a tougher sell. Still, I forced myself to smile. “With you? You know it.”
That was one thing I’d realized over the past few weeks: I couldn’t say no to her. Ever. Even though kale was bitter. Even though she’d probably suggest tofu for dinner, when all I wanted was a big, juicy steak.
Even though she wanted me to stay put, and not kick Li Na Zhao’s ass.
I couldn’t say no to her. But I desperately wanted to say yes to some ass-kicking.
* * *
Hannah curled up against me and I played with her long, thick hair as we watched ESPN.
At one point she sat up and stretched. “We should probably go have dinner, and check in with Lauren and Gabe. And I need to call Fiona.”
“Okay.” I started to sit up, but she stopped me with a kiss—long and deep. It made me yearn for her to be closer.
“Let’s go in a minute.” Her voice was husky. She kissed me again, our tongues connecting, and she pressed herself against me.
Of course, I got instantly hard, but I pulled back, not wanting to freak her out.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I pointed at myself, sighing. “It’s my dick. It’s hard again.”
She giggled. “Um, I’m right here—I know.”
I willed it to go down.
She tilted her head, watching me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want you to be upset.”
“Honey, I’m not upset.” She reached out and stroked my face. “I mean, I do get upset that you’re hurt. And I also know you’re frustrated right now because you can’t do all the things you normally do. Like…me.”
We both laughed, breaking the tension a little.
I shrugged. “It’s my issue, and I’m handling it.”
“It’s our issue. I don’t want you to resent me.”
She didn’t say it, but there was an unspoken resent me more than you already do hanging around, invisible but palpable.
I laced my fingers through hers. “I could never resent you.”
She sighed. “I don’t see why not—you did get shot because of me. And get put in a medically induced coma. And now you’re being forced to use a wheelchair that you hate.”
I straightened. “Babe, we’ve had this conversation. I’m over it. I was shot on assignment, and it was part of my job. Even if it wasn’t, I would have done anything I could to protect you. Because that’s my real job. And if I remember correctly, I failed. You still got kidnapped…the other guards were shot…” I cut myself off. I couldn’t bear to think about that night, about the friends I’d lost.
Hannah bit her lip, as if attempting to keep her objections inside.
“So—you feel guilty, I feel guilty.” I squeezed her hand, trying to stay in the moment. “I think we’re even.”
There was a knock on the door, and we both jumped.
“Hannah?” Lauren called from the other side of the door. “Can you come out here? I need to talk to you—there’s something going on at Paragon.”
