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He’s breathing deeply and shaking so terribly. “My sweet love…”
“Sorry.” It’s groaned.
“No. We won’t be sorry…remember?” It shreds my heart that he can merely press his cheek against mine as he nods. He takes a few deep breaths, and then a low sob shakes his shoulders. I cling to his neck and hold his forehead against my throat. After each sob, he makes an awful, pained gasp, and I’m wrenched with worry.
“Cover my mouth.” It’s a low rasp.
I realize what he means, but my lips can’t help a gentle kiss before I do as he asked. I hold his head and cover his mouth and stroke his hair and forehead and his neck. His hair is damp, and I’m stricken by his new fragility—the way he trembles and his tears drip down his face.
When he’s breathing fast and shallow, but a bit more steady, I wipe his cheeks with my shirt. I wipe his lovely welling eyes, and when more tears fall, I kiss his temples and his forehead and his soft, tremulous lips.
I’m half atop him now, one of my knees up on his chair and my right arm around his neck, my hand in his hair.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I murmur.
I lean back a bit, so I can see his sweet Carnegie face.
His eye shut. “Don’t…stop touching me,” he rasps. “Please.”
I tuck his head against me, his forehead to my throat. “Never will. I promise.” I kiss his hair. Then I kneel at his feet. I meld myself against his legs and lay my cheek against his thigh and wrap my arms around his waist and hug him.
“Sweet Carnegie.” I rub his warm, damp back and then lean down to stroke his calves through his cotton pants. He swallows as he watches me with sad eyes.
“What can I do for you, love?”
He shuts his eyes, shakes his head.
* * *
For a second, I’m worried I’m gonna fucking cry again. I can’t think straight—I just know that I don’t want it. Any of this. I don’t want the searing pain, and I don’t want her seeing me lose it again. I grit my teeth and suck some deep breaths back, and finally, the feeling passes.
“Talk to me…if you can, darling.” Her hand runs through my hair, and I’m back to square one. The gentle movement makes my throat sting. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to think about how good it feels. How fucking great it is to have her hands on me again.
Jesus…
I just know I’m gonna lose control again. Siren can tell, too, because she leans back down and moves in close and presses her cheek to mine. Her hand strokes up into my hair again. It feels so good.
She kisses my cheek and my temple, whispers sweet things in my ear.
I can’t even hug her. I just want to hold her. I don’t want to be in the chair by myself…without her.
I’m gonna cry, so I take deep breaths, but it hurts my left side. It hurts so bad I can’t help but groan…and then I’m sort of halfway crying.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry… Take some deep breaths.”
“I can’t.” My voice is raspy. I can’t even say more without breaking down.
I’ve got some hurt stuff up around my left shoulder, and every time I breathe, it hurts. Finley covers my mouth with hers again. I’m so used to touching her, I go to raise my right arm, and my newly repaired shoulder responds with a bolt of pain that leaves me panting.
Her hands stroke my cheeks. “What are you taking, sweet love?”
It takes me a second to process what she means. “Tylenol…and Advil.” My teeth start to chatter from how much it hurts. “Had to…take a break from Toradol.”
“But…that can’t be all. Can it?”
Tears well in my eyes again. I shut them, and I feel one dripping down my cheek. Get it together, Carnegie. I can’t even wipe my face. So I know she sees the way I’m struggling to keep myself in check. I don’t want to tell her…but I know I have to.
“I…got Dilaudid…at the hospital.”
