I thought about it. Yeah, surgery sucked, but Ethan was in more pain lately than ever before. “Would it stop the pain?”
He huffed. “It would. But there’s the risk of paralysis, and of course, the spinal fusion would stop me from doing the stuff I like.”
“What do you mean?” I rolled onto my side to face him.
His chocolate eyes met mine. “No more MMA, no more climbing - shit, I wouldn’t even be able to carry a book bag for months.”
“How long would it be—”
“Possibly a year,” he said. “A year before I could do anything I like.” I reached over and took his hand in mine.
“I know you don’t want to give up the things you like, but Ethan,” I met his eyes, “you’re in pain all the time. And it’d only be a year.”
Ethan gritted his teeth. “I’m not that desperate yet. These meds might work.” I scooted closer until my head was beside his arm. His spicy cologne filled my nose.
“And if they don’t?” I asked softly.
His lips rose into a sad half-grin. “Let’s see if they work first.” His body relaxed into the bed. “Finally, they’re kicking in.”
I took my hand from his and brushed his hair out of his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His breathing became deep and even. When I was sure he was asleep, I got up and closed the bedroom door behind me.
It didn’t take me long to get to Miles’ room upstairs. I knocked twice and then opened the door. Miles was at his computer, typing with one hand and muttering under his breath. I strode across the room and snatched his glasses off his face.
“Lexie—”
“Don’t Lexie me. Get your ass in bed,” I ordered.
He squinted up at me. “I’m fine, I’m not even tired.”
Not tired? The guy had bags under his eyes. I knew damn well he hadn’t sleep last night. “Bullshit. Bed. Now,” I stated clearly.
He sighed, got up, and moved to the bed. He lay down on the right side of the bed. “I’m really not tired,” he tried again. I grabbed one of his other pillows and put it under his arm to support it.
“I know you’re lying, Miles,” I told him as I walked away from him to his bookcase. I quickly ran through his fiction collection and found one that I thought would work. I walked around the bed to the other side and climbed on.
“Can I have my glasses back? I’ll stay in bed,” he asked.
I snorted. “Nope.” I fluffed the pillow behind me and rested my back against the headboard.
“Lexie—”
“Shh.” I opened the book to the first page. “Close your eyes and listen,” I told him, my voice growing raspy. Miles reached over to the nightstand and passed me a bottle of water. I smiled my thanks as I set the book down, opened the bottle and took a sip.
“You didn’t get much sleep either,” he reminded me with a small smile on his face.
I put the lid back on and picked up the book. “I got more than you,” I countered as I picked up the book and opened to the first page.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
“We are reading ‘Fahrenheit 451,’” I told him as I got comfortable and began to read. “‘It was a pleasure to burn…’”
I read to him for almost an hour before I needed to get a drink again.
“It’s not working…” he muttered, his voice soft.
I smiled. “You’re almost asleep,” I whispered. He rolled onto his side, facing me as I set the book down on my stomach.
His left arm, the arm in the cast, moved over the bed, his fingers running over my beads. “You’re wearing your beads,” he said quietly. “What happened?”
I smiled at him. “I’ll tell you later. Now, get some sleep.” I picked up the book and continued reading.
He eventually fell asleep, his fingers still on my wrist. I continued reading until I was sure he was out cold.
Sleeping, Miles was a sight to see. He was relaxed. Peaceful. I carefully slid my arm out from under his fingers, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, Miles.”
I got up and closed his door behind me. I needed some sleep, but Ethan was hurting in my bed. I could sleep in Ethan’s, but that didn’t feel right. I looked back at Miles’ door. No, I’d probably wake up on top of him, hurting him even more. And Asher was out of the question. I should probably go home anyway. If anyone needed anything, Asher would hear them. I headed downstairs and out to my Blazer.
Zeke
“I don’t think I can be what she needs,” I finally admitted out loud.
“Why do you say that?” Dr. Shay asked. The image of Lexie waking up next to Miles this morning had haunted me all day.
“I can’t wake up next to her in the morning.” I stared at the floor without really seeing it.
“Well, first, you’re a teenager,” Dr. Shay reminded me. “You shouldn’t be sleeping next to her anyway.”
I lifted my head and met my old shrink’s gray eyes. Her kind face had wrinkles where she hadn’t before. Well, I had been eight the first time I met her. “She has nightmares and she can’t sleep without someone touching her. We got her a dog to help, but sometimes she still falls asleep on the couch when we’re watching movies. She’ll start making this… small, scared noise. If you touch her, she stops. So, sometimes the guys nap next to her to help her sleep.” I hated explaining Lexie to her. The girl was one of a kind; it was one of the things I loved about her. But that didn’t mean I wanted Dr. Shay to judge her.
“Ah, well. That’s understandable,” she admitted as she wrote a note on her notepad. “Do you want that? To be able to wake up with someone nearby?”
“It never mattered before. It never bothered me,” I admitted. “It does now.”
“You’ll never know unless you try,” she offered.
My gaze shot to her eyes. “If I try and I’m wrong, I might hurt her.” I’d rather spend my life sleeping alone than do that. There’s a lot of shit I can take and have, but that isn’t one of them.
Her gaze ran over me before she looked back through the pages of her notepad. “She’s woken you up before,” she reminded me. “When you were sick. You didn’t hurt her then, why do you think you would now?”
“I was sick,” I pointed out.
She set the notepad down and gave me a look. I knew that look. “I’m not going to bullshit you, Zeke.”
“If you did, I wouldn’t be here,” I told her.
“Exactly.” She grinned. “Now, do you want to be alone the rest of your life?”
It hadn’t been the plan, but it seemed to be the way things were going. Then Lexie made that corny joke… “No, I don’t,” I answered quietly.
Her eyes were understanding. “You did fine with Riley.”
“Riley was different,” I countered.
“She didn’t mean as much as Lexie does, right?” she asked without really asking.
I nodded. I couldn’t deny it.
She gave me a gentle smile. “You’re scared, Zeke. You’re scared you’re going to hurt her, you’re scared to let someone that close. To be that vulnerable with someone. That’s all this is. It’s nothing more. Do you understand that?”
I nodded.
“What you’re really scared of is if you try and you lose her,” she stated.
“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice gruff.
“But you still want to be with her? You still want that relationship with her?” she asked directly.
I nodded again.
“Then you’re going to have to grow a pair and try,” she told me. “Or someone else is going to come along.”
The doc was right. I was just looking for excuses to keep her away. Sure, at first putting off talking about our kiss was for her. To give her time to heal and process everything. But it was six months later, and she only had two therapy sessions left. Now, I was just making excuses for myself. I had to try with her. Something told me that I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.
Lexie
I had just stepped out of the bathroom in my robe when the door downstairs opened.
“Lexie!” Rory shouted. Shouldn’t he be at work?
I went to the railing and looked over. Rory was in his street clothes, not his uniform. “Yeah? I just took a shower.”
Rory looked up, his face hard. “Get dressed, we’re going to see your grandfather.”