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“What is it?” I worried. “What hurts?” I leaned farther over the railing, invading his space to study every injury marring his boyish face. The little dimple in his chin was smeared with blood.
He’s always been so innocent-looking. Even when life tried to take it away.
His eyes slid shut, robbing me of his stare. Of his life. I leaned farther in, one foot rising off the floor. Swiping my tongue over the pad of my thumb, I wiped the dampened digit over the dried blood, wanting it gone from his face.
“Wesley,” I spoke softly. “Please open your eyes.”
Lashes fluttered again, and then we were face to face. Words and conversation ceased to exist. Just having his eyes on me, feeling that he washere,was literally all I could ask for.
We stared at each other for an undetermined amount of time, but it was time I would never ask to have back. Time spent I would never regret. He swallowed, the action painful based on the way he winced.
“I’ll get you some water.” I started to pull back, but his hand caught the collar of my jacket.
His grip was weak, the hold he had on me unbreakable.
“Wait.”
I relaxed back into the railing, letting it jam into my ribs without complaint. Without looking away from his face, I reached to where he held my jacket, pulling his cool fingers from the material to lower them back to the bed. When his fingers curled around my hand, my stomach inverted and my heart rate slowed.
His eyes were hazy, and I wondered how aware he was.
Swallowing, I lifted the hand that wasn’t still wrapped with his to push a wayward curl away from his forehead. “How you doing?”
“Come closer,” he whispered.
I leaned in.
Smiling, he lifted his free hand, reaching out to drag his finger over the silver hoop in my eyebrow. “I like this,” he told me.
My heart did a little flip. “Yeah?”
“Mm.” He agreed, eyes blinking but so slow it was more like a drag.
I needed to find the doctor. I wanted to know everything about his injuries.
The finger lowered from my eyebrow but rubbed over the thick silver band around my forefinger. “This too.” My scalp tingled, legit fucking tingled, when the pad of his finger dragged from the ring on my finger to the one circling my thumb. “And this.”
“How hard did you hit your head?” I mused, partly as a tease and partly because I felt like I might splinter apart.
What the hell is wrong with me?
His eyes blew wide, and I could see how his pupils were a bit larger than they should be. His shoulders came up off the bed even as he grimaced.
“Hey.” I cautioned, moving back enough to lay both hands on his shoulders and try to keep him in the bed.
“Car accident…”
“Yes, you were in an accident. But you’re okay,” I told him. “Everything’s okay.”
“Max.” His voice broke on the word, and it felt like he reached into my chest and squeezed.
“I know,” I crooned, slipping my palm around to cradle the back of his head. The hair was sticky with blood there too, and I watched him to see if the touch caused pain. His hand gripped just above my elbow, digging into the leather.
“Mom and Dad.” He nearly choked, eyes flying to mine, pain and guilt there. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry.”
I was back to leaning over the railing, the unforgiving bars abusing my ribs. The hand not cradling his head curled around his shoulder, and he buried his face in my chest.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I whispered, denying the sudden urge I had to climb into the bed and fold my body around him. “It was an accident. I’m just glad you’re okay.” I patted the sticky curls, not even caring I was getting smeared with his spilled blood. “Thank Christ you’re okay.”
