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It sucks that I’m going to have to erase that smile. I want to save it, keep it, and cherish it forever in my memory bank of Leon’s Lovely Smiles.
“I made coffee.” I point at the pot, just in case it wasn’t obvious. “Do you want eggs? Bacon? A grilled cheese?”
He’s still half asleep. He looks so damn good that I want to bite him on the shoulder, lick his abs, strip his boxers off, and—stop. Confessions first.
My lady bits are still throbbing from last night. We may or may not—emphasis on themay—have gone a couple more rounds after the first time before falling into a sated sleep. That queen-sized bed has seen quite a bit of debauchery in the past twenty-four hours.
“I—you don’t have to make me anything. Coffee is fine for now.” He gets it himself, and I let him because I know how he feels about me doing things for him. Still, when he’s sitting at the table, I find myself drifting to him. I set my hands on his shoulders and start to rub his muscles and soft, soft skin. “Oh. Wow.” He actually groans that out.
He turns and looks over his shoulder at me, and it’s like looking at a different man. This is Leon when he’s unguarded, not in pain, and happy. Right now, his eyes are less like a rainstorm and more like a sunrise. Before, he would have literally given me every cent he had to leave him to die in what he saw as his humiliation, but now he’s just…happy.
“Darby,” he groans. “What are you doing to me? You’re turning me into this person I don’t know. Someone who sits on beaches and talks about their feelings and emotions.”
I roll my eyes. “Right. Because that’s the worst thing in the world.” I massage his shoulders, working my fingertips into his hot skin. I’d like to work my tongue there too, but I refrain. I know I have to confess what I’ve done, and it makes me so nervous that I feel sick. “Leon?”
He turns his head back around, his coffee curling steamy clouds in front of him. “Hmm?”
“You’re going to be okay. You are. But you need to take care of yourself. Will you let me help you do that?”
I can feel him tense under my hands, and his muscles literally bunch up. Man, no wonder they say stress is bad for you. I can feel what it just did to him right now. “I’m quite capable of looking after myself.”
I run my hand down his arm until I reach his hand. It’s his right, the one without the burn scars, and I curl my hand over his palm, lacing our fingers together before I walk around the table to look him in the eye. “I know you’re capable. I know that, but I…I still…I made a few calls this morning. My dad sent me a link, and it was on my phone when I woke up. It’s for a place that does research on lots of different things. They’re a facility that has doctors and psychologists working together. They take in a lot of patients who have chronic pain. They’re also one of the leading facilities on concussion research, and they treat a lot of athletes.”
As I speak, I watch that mask come over his face so fast. The light in his eyes goes out in a flash, and I’m staring at a wall. “Leon!” I tug on his hand, feeling more and more like I’ve betrayed him. The guilt is horrible. “Please don’t do that. All I did was make some calls, and they have some openings this afternoon. That’s all I did. I didn’t make an appointment. I’m not going to force you to go. I just think…I think you’re living with a lot of pain that you don’t necessarily have to, and that’s the worst. I want you to be okay. I want to help you. I know you’re mad, but I wasn’t trying to go behind your back. I was just trying to… help.”
I can tell he wants to bark something at me. The mask drops for a second, and I can see the raw anger behind it, but then he blinks and scrubs his hand over his face, and it’s not there anymore. He blows out a breath. “Okay.”
I nearly topple over. “What?” I’m still holding his hand, which is rigid in mine. His palm is damp, I realize. I have no idea what it’s costing him to agree with me. He’s so good at hiding his pain and nerves that I wouldn’t be able to read any of it except for the dampness of his hand. I take my hand from his, unfurl his fingers, and bring it to my lips to kiss his palm. “Are you serious?”
“If you want me to go, I’ll go.”
“But you…just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to go with you to the appointment?”
“No.”
I have this horrible sensation, this realization all of a sudden, that Leon is going to try and use this appointment and whatever he finds out as a way to drive us apart. As a tool to push me away. I don’t know if he thinks he’s too damaged to be worthy of affection or if he believes it because of his past. No, I think it’s the former. That’s why he’s alone. It’s been his choice. He doesn’t want to saddle someone else with this. The last thing he wants to be is a burden. He’s got this lovely soul, and all his life, he’s been the one making the sacrifices.
I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Whatever happens, I’m still going to be here. You can’t shove me out of your life even if you find out something terrible. You don’t have to go through this alone. I’ve got you, Leon. Always.”
He makes a huffing noise but lets me kiss his lips as he sits there calmly enough. When I back up because I don’t want to smother him or become a helicopter wife or whatever—clingy, that’s the word—he sips his coffee and watches me.
“Is it okay if I call and see if they still have spots open for this afternoon?” I’m still not telling him that when I talked to the clinic’s receptionist and described what was going on with Leon and kind of straight-up lied about him possibly having a lot of past head trauma from sports injuries, she put me on hold, then came back on and said they’d make room in their day if Leon wanted to book. I told her that I’d have to get back to her after I thanked her.
I’m not trying to deceive him. I’m just trying to help, and this is important. Plus, I didn’t tell anyone anything about him. I made things up. Like how Kitty made things up in the past to protect Leon.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He’s taking this too well.I guess I’m still waiting for the caveman to appear and go all dark and broody and surly about this, but maybe that’s not fair. The past few days changed a lot of things for both of us. Maybe this is Leon trying to move forward.
“Uh…okay. I’ll call them right now.” I sit down across from him and take out my phone. The last number in my call history is the one I dial.
After a few minutes of talking to the receptionist, I have a booking. Four o’clock today. I thank her and hang up. “It’s only eleven right now.” I swallow thickly, pushing down the rising lump of…of whatever is crawling up my throat. “We have time to pack up and lots of time to get there.”
“I’m sorry that I’m going to ruin your vacation.”
