“For someone who was so convinced they couldn’t raise them, you seem to be holding your own.”
I gulp down the compliment and if I had any blood left in my body, it would have rushed to my face. “I—uh, well, thanks.” Blinking furiously, I glance away from his relentless stare. “Thanks for coming by like this. I hope it’s not a problem with the—uh gym and all. I wouldn’t have had Ben make you come, but Donnie asked for you.”
Jack waves that away with one big hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough manpower to watch over the gym for the rest of the day. Consider me your slave.” He shrugs playfully.
My eyes bulge and my fingers spasm around the little bear. “Rest of the day?” I damn near whisper. “No, that’s too much. I’m all set now, Jack. Promise.”
“Shut up.” He kisses me on the forehead and shocks a gasp from my chest. Goddammit, he can’t do things like that. “I’m going to go get your Popsicles and something to drink. Then, I’ll get you set up in here. I don’t know why the hell your mom never put a T.V. in here. Fuckin’ shame.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to protest. Instead he gets to his feet, tucking the sheets even more tightly around me. His fingers brush the sensitive sides of my breasts and I curse the fact that they can perk up even though I feel like death.
What fresh hell is this?
If I had any energy whatsoever I would definitely put on something cuter than an old pair of boxers and T-shirt. Not that I want to give Jack any ideas, but I always had every interaction with Jack carefully planned. I had to. Now he’s here when I’m most vulnerable and I have no shields left to put up. Knowing Jack, if I give him any slack, he’ll worm his way back into all the cracks and reclaim the heart that had always been his.
Jack returns brandishing a red Popsicle and a bottle of my favorite flavor sports drink. I immediately forget my worries about having a man in the room while I’m in bed for the first time in forever. Especially this man.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting the drink.
“Not too much,” he cautions, reclining on the spot next to me. “You don’t want it to upset your stomach.”
I take a couple sips and nearly moan at how good it tastes. Green apple is the nectar of the gods. I hand him back the bottle to put on my nightstand and he exchanges it for the Popsicle. “What about the T.V.?” I ask around a bite.
“In a sec, I just wanted to make sure you could keep that down first.”
He’s going to kill me with kindness. That has to be his plan. “I’m fine, really. Besides, I’m probably just going to sleep once you head out. I really appreciate you bringing this by. You’re a lifesaver.”
“I’m not staying here without a little T.V. If we’re going to play hooky, then we’re going to do it right.”
I nearly choke on a piece of flavored ice. “What?” I say to his back.
Clearly, I’m missing a key part of our conversation.
He returns, wheeling in the T.V. that I keep in my living room.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask.
“Gonna hook it up in here…”
“I appreciate that, but I hope you don’t think you’re staying in here with me. If anything, the boys wanna see you.”
“I’ll be here when they wake up. Probably better to let them sleep while they can, anyway. So much better than the paperwork waiting for me back at the gym.”
“You don’t mean to say that you’re staying,” I reiterate. “Here.”
He plops on the bed next to me, surrounding me in his familiar woodsy scent. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I clear my throat. “Um, why?”
“That goose egg on your head for one thing. That and you could barely get yourself back to bed. You’ll be no good to the boys laid up.”
Warmth that has nothing to do with my illness washes over me. “Why are you really doing this, Jack?” The moment the words slip past my lips, I want to take them back.
He pauses, considering his words. “You know why,” he says, running a hand over his dark hair. It’s grown since the last time I saw him. His bangs hang lazily across his forehead and my fingers twitch by my side. When we were teenagers, I wouldn’t have hesitated to run them through his hair or tug him close to me. Ben and Olivia used to give us shit all day long for our PDA.
It all seems too familiar. I clear my throat and shake the memories out of my head. “I really don’t,” I say breathlessly, and I wish I could say it’s from the illness. “I don’t know why you’re doing any of this.” I gesture around the room.
“I brought you back here for the boys because they deserve you, and because your mother asked me to,” he says, his voice calm and level, his eyes on mine. I hold his gaze, even though every fiber inside of me wants to tuck under the blankets and hide.
“But why are you being nice to me now? You and I both know we can rarely be in the same room together without butting heads. I’m shocked we aren’t arguing right now.”