Page 65 of Chasing You

He lowered himself into the seat beside her desk, and his gaze fixed on the corkboard behind her. There were photos pinned to every inch of adults and children alike, smiling with their new mobility aids.

“My friendship wall,” she said, and he jolted, looking back at her. She was smiling softly at him. “Kind of a cheesy name, I know.”

“No, it’s…nice.”Nicewasn’t the word he was looking for, but it didn’t make him feel bad about his situation, so he was going to go with that. “Do I have to go up there?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Some people really don’t like their picture taken. And some people aren’t ready to celebrate yet.”

He folded into himself a little. “So that’s normal?”

She set her hands on the desk and waited until he met her gaze. “It’s totally normal. My husband is a paraplegic. He and I actually work here together, but it took him years before he was ready to smile about a new wheelchair. Now, he plays basketball and sled hockey, and while there are days he’s still pissed off that someone got behind the wheel after spending six hours at a bar and changed his life, it’s not the first thought on his mind. But it was for a long while.”

“I have no one to blame for this,” he said, tapping his finger on the orthotic. It made a dull, hollow sound.

Cocking her head to the side, she studied him for a moment, then went back to her computer. “Upper and lower limb dystonia due to traumatic brain injury.”

“I’m—Iwas—a firefighter. I was injured on thejob,” he explained. His voice was toneless, and he hadn’t meant it to be that way, but he still felt himself emotionally disconnect from the accident whenever he had to talk about it. “It came out of nowhere weeks after I was cleared to go back to work.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t currently have any clients with the condition.” She sat back and folded her arms. “Physio is recommending a manual wheelchair with power assist for days when your arms or hands aren’t very cooperative. That’s what your script is for.”

“Insurance covers that, right?”

Her face told him everything he needed to know. “The first step is choosing your best option. The second is making a good case for why it’s medically necessary. The third is?—”

“Crowdfunding because I really don’t want to sell a kidney?” he offered.

“We have financing?—”

“I don’t have a job,” he said quietly. He knew Adele would pay for it, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. A stubborn sensation as big as a boulder lodged in his chest. “I guess all we can do is try, right?”

Her eyes were full of pity, and he hated it, but he knew if their potions had reversed, he’d feel sorry for himself too. He was between a rock and a hard place, and in front of him was a waterfall so tall he had no idea where it might land.

“We’ll get you what you need. We’ll figure it out,” she promised him.

He didn’t believe her, and by the time the appointment was over, he had been proven right.

“How’d it go?”

Kash found his face lifting from the pressure of a hooked knuckle under his chin. He met the soft gaze of the one man who had been and always would be the love of his life. But he didn’t have an answer for Adele. The truth would burden him, and he didn’t want to lie. Not anymore.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around Adele’s waist and pulled him down into his lap. His weight was heavy, like a ballast, keeping him rooted to the cushion, and he tilted his face up higher for a kiss.

Adele did not disappoint. Their lips met, slow, easy, like they’d been doing this all their lives. He tasted like the overly sweet coffee creamer from 7-Eleven and mint gum.

“Mm. That was a nice surprise,” Adele said.

Kash huffed and kissed him a second time. Then a third. “Done for the night?”

Adele shrugged and fell back against the couch cushions, keeping his legs draped over Kash’s thighs. “Work was slow. Two electrical fires that didn’t get past the outlet and a fourteen-year-old who thought he was having a heart attack.”

“A child having a heart attack?” Kash asked.

Adele snorted and leaned a little closer. “Panic attack after taking too many hits off his brother’s vape thingie.”

Kash rolled his eyes. “Remember the good old days when it was sneaking overpriced schwag we bought off Travis and smoking stems and seeds out of old soda cans and pretending like we were baked?”

Adele burst into laughter. “Never let Gage hear you say that.”

“He wouldn’t know what the fuck I was talking about anyway,” Kash said. “Technology’s taken all the joy out of rebelling.”

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