Page 77 of Frozen Flames

I clear my throat. “I want you to know that I appreciate everything you do for me.” I gaze into her green eyes, leaning closer to her until my lips press softly against hers.

I remember how passionate our kisses used to be.

Oh, how time has changed everything between us.

Time and circumstances.

I glide my hand down her neck and then bring my forefinger to her collarbone. I wish I felt something—anything—heat or lust or my dick growing hard. Instead, I feel the hollowness in every bone in my body.

We haven’t fucked since the accident—something that would affect most men. Yet I’ve been able to abstain due to my depression and because I didn’t feel shit.

Until Claire came into the picture.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve gotten stronger physically and mentally—I don’t know. Maybe it’s that my confidence grew. Or maybe with Claire I was never trying or forcing it, and it just happened.

I deepen our kiss, but Gemma pulls away. A small laugh escapes her lips, then suddenly she speeds to the bathroom and shuts the door.

Okay.

I’m tempted to go knock to make sure she’s alright, as I can hear her vomiting, but soon she comes back and sits on the couch next to me—though farther away.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Must’ve been the takeout.”

I nod, and she takes my hand and squeezes it, reassuring me.

That’s the thing with Gemma—I never truly know what she’s thinking. Trying to pull ideas and thoughts and feelings out of her is like getting a root canal.

When we’re done watching TV, she cleans up, and I transfer from the couch to my wheelchair.

“I’m proud of you,” I hear her say behind me.

I swallow, knowing how much those words affect me and touch my soul. If anyone would’ve asked me before the accident what I wanted to hear from a woman’s mouth, I might’ve said a compliment. Now, it’s those specific words.

Claire says them too, with so much conviction.

I smile back at Gemma and wheel away. “Good night, Gemma.”

I had a great morning with Hen and Gemma. Breakfast was amazing.

Now I’m at my PT appointment with Stefan, watching my brother and Gemma chill and laugh in the sitting area. I wonder if she laughs like that with her boss too.

“Damn, Harvey, you’re distracted lately.”

I chuckle. “My bad. Is this even necessary at this point?” I ask him as each of my legs are attached to robotic braces that help me walk on the spot. It’s the Lokomat, basically a robotic treadmill training system.

Gemma keeps looking back at me, and it bothers me.

I can feel my cheeks redden.

I hate that she’s seeing me like this, attached to this thing—unlike her boss.

“It’s helping you progress faster, Harvey. The repetition helps your brain adapt and improve, especially combined with Claire’s daily training.”

I nod. “Yeah. She’s good at what she does.”

A little too good maybe, since I fell for her.

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