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He raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I will if you really want me to. Iwasjust going to help you get to the bathroom. I figured you could use the sink to hold yourself up after that.”
I couldn’t help it. I grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. He went stiff with surprise at first, but then he melted into my body, sliding his hands onto my shoulders. When I finally pulled away, I said, “That mouth of yours is trouble.”
“Uh-huh,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “I haven’t heard you complaining about how I use my mouth.”
I shook my head. “Nope. No complaints.”
Liam helping me to the bathroom took longer than I expected and hurt a lot more too. I had to give him credit. I easily had fifty pounds on the guy, but he held his own. He left me to do my business, which absolutely had to include brushing my teeth. When I came out, breakfast awaited me on a tray table next to my bed. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. A second tray table with an identical breakfast and one of my kitchen chairs was set up across from it.
Once Liam got me settled back on the bed, he looked at me uncertainly. “Is it okay that I brought my breakfast up here?”
“Of course,” I responded. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, we don’t do sleepovers,” he began, his cheeks flushing. “So we don’t do breakfast together.”
I sighed softly. I felt bad that he thought I wouldn’t want him around. That shit was my own fault. “You just spent the night taking care of me, and judging by those panda eyes you’re rocking, you didn’t get much sleep. I would have to be the world’s biggest asshole to make you eat by yourself.”
He smirked. “Not the world’s biggest asshole. We reserve that title for certain politicians who shall remain orange.”
I started to laugh, then winced when my head protested. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” he said, looking apologetic.
We chatted while we ate. I noticed he avoided asking about the mission that got me injured, which I appreciated since I wasn’t ready to talk about how much I’d screwed up. There was a long silence where he looked over at me while worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “What’s up?” I asked.
“I have a question,” he began. When I nodded encouragingly, he went on. “You keep saying how much you hate hospitals. But when I was in Beirut, every time I woke up, you were there. Why?”
And wasn’t that the million-dollar question? I answered as truthfully as I could. “After everything you went through, I didn’t want you to wake up in a strange place alone.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. His eyes were a little shiny. “Thank you. It meant a lot to me.”
Me too.
23
Liam
I ended up staying at Marco’s place for two more days. First, he was still unsteady even after a good night’s sleep. Second, my mother’s boyfriend, Robert, got one of his doctor friends to open his orthopedic office on Monday morning so he could look at Marco’s ankle. I knew if I didn’t get Marco in to get X-rays soon, he wouldn’t go. He’d just walk around on a possibly busted-up, swollen ankle until it hurt so much he’d have no choice but to go to the ER.
To my surprise, Marco didn’t give me a hard time about taking him to the doctor. I guessed it was just hospitals that were the problem. Helping him hobble down the stairs at his house was a bit harrowing, given our significant height and weight differences, but we made it without incident. He even let me drive his Charger.
The doctor was really nice. He had a son in the Marines, which was why he’d agreed to see Marco on his day off. Fortunately, it was just a sprain, no fractures or breaks. The doctor gave Marco an elastic ankle brace to help reduce the swelling and set him up with a pair of crutches so he could get around without putting weight on the ankle. He gave Marco a series of exercises to stretch and strengthen his ankle after the swelling was down.
When we got back to his house, Marco decided he wanted to watch a movie in his living room. I felt out of place after getting him set up on the couch. He really didn’t need me anymore. His concussion had mostly resolved, and he could get around just fine now that he had a set of crutches. “So I guess I’ll get out of your hair now.”
He looked at me, surprise etched in his features. “What? Why?”
I felt awkward answering. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Marco rolled his eyes and then winced. “You worked all weekend. Come sit and watch a movie with me. I’ll order takeout for lunch from that Chinese place you like.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.”
Marco ordered the food and then put on a popular action movie. I crinkled my brows and stared at him. “Don’t you get enough action in real life?”
He shrugged. “I like to make fun of how unrealistic most of this shit is.”
Marco was sitting sideways on the couch so he could prop up his ankle. I kicked off my shoes and sat at the other end, snuggled against a big throw pillow. The couch was a soft gray tweed and super comfortable. In fact, the whole living room had this understated, comfortable vibe. I would have loved to get the fireplace going, but I didn’t want Marco to try to make that happen on his sprained ankle.
