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“I’m not listening.” He drops it to the floor. “Now, do you wanna deal with these, or should I?”
He’s asking about my black pantyhose. Only for a funeral would I wear them. I look down at them, having no energy for anything, while he turns the shower on. “I don’t care,” I answer.
“Suits me fine.” He rips the back seam over my ass so fast I swear they’re tissue and not silk. “Damn,” he mutters, quickly turning my pantyhose into gossamer shreds in seconds. “That’s on the menu for future nights.”
“Are you getting horny right now?” I kick my heels off. I’m not offended.
“Nope,” he answers, peeling off his T-shirt before dropping his jeans. His waking cock answers yes.
I swear the man has a religion against underwear.
I swear I kinda love that about him.
“Come on.” He guides me under the water with him.
And it does feel good. The sweat, tears, day, and grief wash off with the soap he lavishes over me. We don’t use words. His care says it all. Like we could have a long conversation to confirm it, but that would be a waste of precious time.
We know where we stand. Where we were always meant to be. From the moment I saw the cute boy looking so unhappy and alone, sitting on a park bench and wearing a red velvet elf costume. The way he smiled at me when I sat down beside him, I knew he’d be my everything.
We’re together again. Not like anyone could ever keep us apart.
And when I see the fresh scar, the bullet wound through his arm, it hits me. A wave of everything he’s survived, and my mama who didn’t, and I start crying, my tears falling with the shower water, and he holds me tight. “I got ya, Candy, Cade.” Wrapping his arms around me. “We’ll be okay.” Resting my cheek on his wet chest. “We made it.” I’m safest here, so I cry until there’s no hot water left. Until I think my tears are done for the night.
He kisses my cheek, then pecks my lips before turning off the water and handing me a towel. “Dry off and climb into bed.” A white towel hangs from his waist next. “I’ll go find us something to eat.”
“Good luck with that.”
Since I’ve spent the past month in the hospital, there’s no telling what’s growing in my refrigerator.
“I don’t need luck,” he says, gently pushing me toward the bed. “I got delivery.”
I drop the towel and climb under my sheets, and it’s official. I’m not leaving this bed for the next month. Hopefully, Redix can be here for most of it.
Part of me wishes Silas were here, too, but that doesn’t feel right for some reason. Like we gotta let him go and learn who we are again without him.
Silas has been the sweet, sexy, strong glue that held our broken edges together for so long, but that’s not his purpose. He deserves better. I get what he means about finding his own love. It’s not that he doesn’t love me and Redix.
The three of us will always love each other.
He just wants that seed. That bloom of a new love you find where you least expect it. The bright, brilliant one that surprises you and captivates your heart for life.
And maybe it’ll be another man. Or another woman. Or another couple. Who knows with Silas. But he’s right.
The love between me and Redix is too damn powerful for us sometimes. Much less asking another person to navigate it, too. It’s like asking someone to cross the Atlantic in a canoe. Only Redix and I have the strength together for that.
And it’s a strength we’ve earned the grueling, soul-breaking way.
“I got Thai food here in an hour.” Speaking of Captain Thinks He’s In Charge, Redix saunters back into my bedroom. “And water and a snack for you now.”
I’m hoping for Lemonheads. I’ll settle for Skittles. When he presents me with a banana, I can’t even.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not fucking you with this tonight.” He drops his towel and sits on the bed beside me, handing me a glass of water I reluctantly sip and then set down. “You’re gonna eat it. You need your electrolytes after all that sweating.”
“You saying I stink?”
“No.” He breaks a piece off and holds it to my lips. “I’m saying it was hotter than blue blazes today, and you’ve lost weight. Now, come on.”
I turn my nose. “I don’t want it.”
