Page 103 of Beautifully Conflicted

“As long as it takes.”

“As long as it takes for what?”

Damien’s eyes never leave the screen. “For you to talk to me.”

“And say what?”

“Whatever you want. The food here sucks. You saw a really great movie on TV. Your doctor’s hot. Whatever.”

I snort before I can stop myself. “The doctor is definitely not hot. He’s got a forest growing out of his nose.”

“So, he’s not a fan of grooming. Shame, it really can change your whole appearance.”

I snort again, and even though I don’t want to be having this conversation, I keep speaking. “The nurse’s eyelashes are so heavy I’m surprisedshe can keep her eyes open.”

Damien doesn’t miss a beat even though he’s still staring at the TV. “Do you think that’s something women do? Blink or exercise their eyelids to get them strong enough to wear those things?”

“Fuck if I know. Women do a lot of crazy shit, though.”

“Like what?”

“Wear things that push their tits up, paint their faces, you know…” I trail off since no more examples come to mind.

“I don’t actually. The whole gay thing got in the way of me paying attention to what women do.” His shoulders lift in a casual shrug.

“Are you saying you’ve never noticed any of the stuff women do to enhance their appearance?”

“I suppose I’ve noticed it. I’ve just never given it a second thought since I’ve never been close enough to a woman to see what kind of underwear they’ve got on or what’s on their faces. I never heard a bisexual guy complain about women pushing their tits up, though. Usually, they say it’s pretty sexy.”

“I’m not complaining, just saying it’s a crazy thing they do. It does look sexy. Especially, the lacy ones.” I haven’t thought about a woman like that in months, and while I don’t miss women, I have to admit lacy panties were arousing.

“Well, I hope it’s not a deal breaker for you, but I willnotwear lacy shit,” Damien huffs, all the while never taking his eyes off the TV and calling attention to the fact that he’s got me talking, exactly the way he intended.

The way I needed to get me out of the spiral I was on the verge of descending into.

I kind of don’t hate him for it.

And as grateful as I am that he’s not watching me futilely blink back tears, I need him to look at me when I say that. I need him to see my face when I tell him this…

“Damien,” I whisper.

Like I’ve given him permission, he swivels to face me, his rich chocolate eyes full of devotion and sorrow.

“I love you.”

His brows shoot up as his eyes grow wide. “How much pain medicine do they have you on?”

“Not enough to be confused about that.” I offer a weak smile.

“So, we’re being real now?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He rises off the chair and leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine in the most tender, affectionate kiss I’ve ever received. His soft lips linger for several beats, not seeking more or demanding entry, just soothing my broken spirit and echoing my confession. “I love you, too,” he whispers back. “Now, shove over.”

“What?” I choke out a half-laugh, half-sob. “You won’t fit on here. It’s a single bed.”

“I will if you move. And I’ve been dying to hold you since I watched them cart you off that field. So, either you scoot, or I’ll scoot you myself.”

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