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I never want to be the cause of Lenny’s fear. I never want her to doubt us.
“It’s not—” I start, trying to ease her worry.
I reach for her hand and she tries to tug it away, but I hold onto it. I need our connection to get this out. Lacing our fingers together, I hold on as if she’s my lifeline.
I need her contact to live and take my next breath.
My own doubt is creeping in with that little voice again. I want to trust her wholeheartedly. I do.
But it’s everyone else’s opinions and doubts to be cautious with anything I tell her that are running through my head.
“Listen, I need you to promise me something.” I look into her eyes, willing her to see how serious this is and to know I trust her. “I need you to promise that this stays here. Between us. Off the record.”
Her eyes soften. I think she gets it. She gets my unspoken meaning.
“Nick I— "
“Whatever we say here in bed. From here on out. Whatever is said stays between us.” I’m begging her to agree.
I don’t want any doubt in my mind that anything and everything I share with her is ours. Everything I give is for no one else but her.
A small smile creeps over her lips. “What about our special interviews?”
I grin back at her remembering the interview I gave her. Her, tempting me with her body to pull answers out of me.
“Ok.” I relent. “Those are special circumstances, but only when we agree and clearly determine it’s going on the record.”
I warn her with a raise of my brow. I’m on to her evil ways.
“Got it.” She shakes my other hand in agreement.
Her face goes right back into concern. Jokes are done and now I’m on the spot.
“It wasn’t just a sprain.” I groan, lowering my voice.
Instinctively, Lenny’s eyes darted to my knee.
Yeah, she fucking knows.
Of course, she does. She’s amazingly smart and observant. She’s the only one who was able to analyze that goal I let in so perfectly.
She doesn’t say anything, but waits, gnawing at her bottom lip.
I tell her everything. I tell her about the tear from the hit I took the week before that game I lost for my team and how it got worse the more I played. I tell her about my surgery and how I spent my summer recovering in therapy.
Then I tell her about the pain I experienced after our fall at the rink. It was just a little ache, but when we were at the free skate and we fell I felt sore and then it went downhill from there.
She shrieks when I tell her that part plus the part about getting sore after having sex in the car.
It’s mostly in my head.
All the aches and pains I feel are all in my head. I’ve been waiting for the injury to come back, but it’s not.
“I broke you.” She cries, throwing herself back and burying her face in her hands. “I broke Nick Miller.”
I laugh and pull her hands off her face. “If I thought you were dangerous to my physical health in any way, I wouldn’t be here.”
The look of dread is still on her face. She bites her lip, thinking of every bad scenario she can think of. I know that look.
