Page 59 of Rescued
“I love you too,” Arlo rasps back.
His voice is still scratchy, and it likely will be for a few more days at the very least, but it’s better than what it was before.
“How long have you been here?” he asks.
“As long as you’ve been here.”
I open my eyes, peering up at him.
“How long has that been?”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I try to get my tired brain to do the math.
“Just a little over forty-eight hours.”
Concern knits his brows. “Go home, baby,” he whispers.
My heart skips even as I shake my head. He so rarely calls me anything but my name. “I’m not leaving you.”
He frowns. “What if I call Luca or Theo to come sit with me? You need to shower. You need to sleep in your own bed. At least for a little. Please?”
“Our bed,” I say automatically, correcting him without really meaning to.
His eyes shift into something soft. “Yeah, our bed. One of us should get some use out of it. When can I leave?”
I start to sit up, but Arlo glares at me, tightening his fingers in my hair.
“Soon, hopefully. They’ll want to make sure that you continue to breathe well on your own and that you don’t have any lingering complications from the smoke inhalation.”
“I don’t want any more pain meds.”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “Baby boy, you have burns and broken ribs. You need pain meds.”
He shakes his head, stubborn as ever. “I have addict parents. I’m good. I don’t want them.”
I sit up, and this time he lets me. I lean in close to him, brushing my fingers down his cheek. His eyes fall shut, and he pushes into my touch. Fuck, I can’t wait to get him out of here.
The longing to hold him for hours, to have every inch of him touching me, is almost overwhelming. I don’t even think I ached for him this badly when I wasn’t allowed to love him yet.
I’ve never felt anything like this in my entire life. It’s miserable and wonderful at the same time. All-consuming. Devastating. I hate it, and I never want to stop feeling it.
I’m pretty sure that nothing is ever going to make this feeling go away. At least not while I still have the image of Arlo’s unmoving body in my head. Not while I can still feel the crunch of his ribs under my hands. Not while the memory of the vent breathing for him is still so fresh in my mind.
Hell, maybe not even then. Maybe I’ll always want him with this ferocity. Maybe I’ll die as desperate for him as I was the day I fell in love with him.
“Okay,” I finally whisper.
His eyelids flutter, drawing attention to his lack of eyelashes, then he opens his eyes. “Okay, you’ll go home and rest?”
I shake my head. “No fucking way. Okay to the no more pain meds.”
“I miss you,” he whispers, his bottom lip quivering.
“I’m right here.” I shift my hand, cupping his cheek, careful to avoid the slight burns on his lower jaw. “And you wanted me to leave.”
His eyes well up, and tears spill over. “No, I mean… You’re right here, and I miss you. I hate this. I hate being here. I just—I want to be with you.”
Scrunching my face in confusion, I search his eyes. “You are with me, Arlo. I’m not going anywhere, remember?”
