Page 76 of Fearlessly Us

I glance down at her electric-blue toenails, smiling like I always do at her habitual bright colors, and then back at her. “I can do it for you.” I don’t know what it says about me that at this moment, there is quite literally nothing I would rather do than paint her toenails. Sit next to her on this couch. Take care of her in any way I can.

It’s a privilege she’s giving me this chance to do exactly that, and even though I don’t feel worthy of the gift, I want to do it in the best way I know how. Hopefully it’s enough. Hopefully I can be enough.

She stares at me. “You can do what, exactly?”

“I can paint your toenails.”

“You’re…seriously?”

I shrug. “Sure, why not?” Smirking at her, I hand over the glass I brought in. “I’m really, really good with my hands.”

“I’ll say,” she mutters, and I chuckle as she looks down at the glass. “This doesn’t look like Sprite,” she says warily, studying the drink.

“Because it’s not.” I take her free hand in mine and drop a couple pills into it. “You need these to stay on top of the pain so you can be comfortable, and you also need to stay hydrated, so be a good girl and drink the water, then I’ll get you your Sprite.”

She gives me a menacing look that’s impressive considering the amount of discomfort I’m sure she’s in right now. “Some would say calling a grown woman a good girl is condescending as fuck.”

I shrug, unable to stop the smile because she’s here in my space, giving me that bratty snark I love. Seeing her laying in a hospital bed fucked me up a little. My logical brain knows the surgery she had wasn’t life-threatening, but the part of my brain that needs her despite all my baked-in instincts that scream at me not to let anyone get too close in case I lose them too is having a little trouble getting the message. I’ve never been happier in my life than when she asked if she could come to my house. If she hadn’t wanted to come here, I would have gone to her house. Or to the dark side of the damn moon. I want to be wherever she is.

“Some might. But you wouldn’t. I saw your face the first time I said those words. You like it.” I run a finger over her calf, and despite her discomfort, she shivers. “Now take the pills, Catie, and then you need to eat something.”

Rolling her eyes, she takes the pills with the hateful water, muttering, “At least you used the good ice.” When I chuckle, she narrows those pretty eyes at me. “Just so you know, I’m taking these pills because I want to, not because you told me to.”

I squeeze her calf, needing to stay connected to her in some way.

She’s here.

She’s okay.

She’ll be fine.

“As long as you take them, I’m a happy guy. I don’t want you to be in pain. It kills me that something is hurting you and I can’t fix it.”

Caitlin settles carefully back against the couch. I know it hurts because I can see the wince she tries to suppress. The way she holds her back straight, like she’s trying not to use her stomach muscles. Her heavy, red-rimmed eyes telling me she’s exhausted from the anesthesia and her whole ordeal. The fact that she was going to try to deal with the next few days alone kills me too.

“They said the pain wouldn’t last for very long. Probably just a couple days, but it takes a few weeks for everything in there to heal, so, you know, hands off and whatever.”

Shifting on the couch, I turn so I can face her, taking the water and setting it on the table, closing both of her hands in mine. “Baby, let’s get something straight right now. Sex isn’t why I want you here, in my house. If you want more of that when you’re feeling better, then I want it too, because being with you like that was everything.” I wink and look her up and down, and when she smiles, I feel my whole body relax. “But all I want now is you here with me. To feed you and take care of you and help you get well for as long as you’ll let me.”

Caitlin shifts on the couch, a little uncomfortably. “I’ll probably be a terrible patient.”

I pick up her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles, enjoying the shit out of her. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

She eyes me warily. “Today is the only day I’m taking off. I’m working from home for the rest of the week, and I’m going back to the office after the weekend.”

She says the words like she thinks I’m going to argue with her, and I don’t know why I find that so damn charming. “If working from home means working from here, that sounds perfect to me.”

“I don’t have any of my stuff,” she says, like she’s lining up arguments.

I shrug. “Make me a list. I’ll go to your house later and get you everything you need. Or I can call one of your friends or your brother to do it.”

“No,” Caitlin says quickly, her voice sharp. “Don’t do that. I…haven’t exactly told anyone about the surgery. Or any of this.” Her voice is quiet, and she stares down at her hands twisting in the blanket. I can hear what she doesn’t say. What I already knew by the way I’m starting to know her. She’s been dealing with her bad periods alone for years, not knowing how to let anyone else into this part of her life. But she let me in, and I understand what a gift that is.

I slide two fingers under her chin and lift her face to mine. “I’m really glad you told me, Catie. That you let me be here for you like this.”

Caitlin blows out a breath. “We’re having a taco and margarita night next week at Maddy’s and I’ll tell them then. My friends, I mean. I’ll deal with my parents and Jack later. That’s…trickier.”

She doesn’t say anything else about it, and I don’t press the issue. She’s given me enough. More than enough. I think, maybe, she’s given me everything I didn’t know I needed. More than I deserve. “I have practice and meetings at the stadium for the rest of the week after today, but I like the idea of having you here. Unless you would rather be at your house after today. If you would, I’ll go with you. If you want me,” I add.