Page 21 of The Kiss Principle

“Let me get Igz back in the SUV,” I said, “and then we’ll go to the hospital.”

He shook his head.

“Yes, absolutely. If I fucked up your surgery—”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. You couldn’t even stand.”

His hand rubbed my thigh slowly. It was like someone stirring up sparks from a fire; it had been a long time since someone had touched me, even like this. “You can take the ice pack off.”

I peeled it away.

He sat up and scooted until he was propped up by the arm of the sofa. Then, slowly, he tested his knee, bending it, straightening it again. A hint of dusky color came into his cheeks. “It’s okay,” he said again. And then, more firmly, “I’m okay.”

“This is all very fucking convincing.”

He laughed very quietly. “I’m sorry. I thought I felt something, and I was so afraid—” He stopped, and then, to my total amazement, he blinked away tears.

“Zé.”

“No,” he said thickly, shaking his head at whatever I might have said. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s just been a lot.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but when the silence stretched on, I asked, “What kind of surgery was it?”

“My ACL.”

“Ouch. What happened?”

“That’s the stupidest part. I was messing around with some friends. I slipped, tried to catch myself, and pop.”

I winced, but I was only halfway concentrated on his story. His hand was slowly rubbing my thigh again. And the little dicklet shorts that Augustus had bought me left a lot of bare skin for him to chafe.

Once again, the silence had gone on too long. I opened my mouth to say something, but Zé spoke first. “I’m glad Igz is okay.”

I made an agreeing noise.

“You realize the shirt and the shorts are sending a mixed message, right? All those Bible verses. And then—” He plucked at the hem of the shorts, high up my thigh.

“That’s because I’ve got a gayball brother who also thinks he’s a comedian.”

In that quiet voice of his, he said, “You have a lot of pictures of the two of you. You must love him a lot.”

“Oh no. Nice fucking try.”

He closed his eyes.

“You’re living in your car?”

“Don’t yell; you’re going to wake Igz.”

“Don’t yell? I’ll yell if I want to yell.” But I did lower my voice because I wasn’t an idiot. “What the fuck kind of shit-slurry do you have for brains? What have you been doing every day when you walk out of here? Where do you go? Tell me, right now. And you’d better not try to lie to me.”

He opened his eyes, and they were silver with tears. He couldn’t quite blink them all away, and the ones that fell traced their way down his cheeks. “Are you firing me?”

“What? No. God, no.”

“I’ll be here on time every day, like always. I’ll be rested and focused, and I’ll take good care of Igz. I don’t steal food.Sometimes, I’ve showered here, but only after I do yoga. And if you want me to stop, I won’t do it anymore.”

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