Page 8 of Bloom: Part 2

I pulled back, gasping for breath. How could I keep him safe? If I couldn’t, was it selfish of me to hold on to him?

“Logan, what’s wrong?” Bloom brushed my hair away from my forehead.

I forced a smile and got to my feet. “That sort of kissing isn’t what you need right now. You must be hungry.”

“Not for food. The bed is big enough for two.”

I picked up the tray carefully arranged with his meal: a small serving of grilled chicken breast, its golden skin glistening, steamed green beans, and a portion of whole grain rice. A bowl of clear chicken broth sat on the side, next to a small dish of applesauce.

“You’re recuperating from a gunshot wound, Bloom.” I sat on the side of the bed, placing the tray on his lap. “I’m not going to ravage you on the hospital bed.”

“Even if it’s what I want?”

“That’s right.”

“And if I refuse to eat?”

I dipped the spoon in the soup. “Open up.”

A couple of seconds passed. Then he sighed and did what I instructed. I bit back my smile of triumph. It was unhealthy butstill nice to have this kind of hold on him that made him obey me, even when he was inclined to be disagreeable.

“I had an errand to run, and that’s why I’m late,” I said.

“I called your phone.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.” He opened his mouth as if to argue, and I quickly pushed the spoon between his plump lips.

“There you go. Good boy.”

He preened and shuffled closer to me, placing his head on my shoulder. I chuckled. He was the sweetest, deadliest person I’d ever met. “Bloom, I can’t feed you like this.”

“Yes, you can. I missed you so much, Logan.”

From the way he clung to me, I knew he meant it. I’d had guys who were good with words and using them to get what they want, but Bloom wasn’t like that. There were no games inside him. No saying stuff just to get me to do what he wanted. He was blunt but honest. Whatever he said, he meant, and I found comfort in that.

How could I be tough on him after that? Silence enveloped us as he ate, kernels of rice clinging to the corners of his mouth. I carefully wiped them away with my thumb. The belligerent young man I’d encountered upon my arrival was gone. In his place was the soft, vulnerable Bloom who only very few people had the privilege of seeing.

“I’m full.” He shook his head to reject the next piece of chicken. His fingers found my free hand, and he twined them together like vines around an old oak tree.

A burp escaped his lips. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Don’t be.” I tried to move, but he clung to me. “I’m just setting down the tray, sweetheart.”

He tightened his grip. “Then you shouldn’t have called me sweetheart. I ain’t gonna let go now.”

I relaxed against him and let him take the comfort he needed. Soon enough, his hold on me slackened, giving me the chance to set down the tray and grab the water bottle.

“Time for your pills.” I checked his mouth that he’d indeed downed them. He hated taking the pills because they sometimes left him confused.

“I’ve been good,” he said. “There are other things I can swallow as well.”

“No sex.”

“What if I lie really still?”

“Bloom—”

“How’s this fair? You’re the one who got me hooked on sex, and now I can’t have any? Save me from boredom, Logan.”

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