Page 93 of Fear of Love
“We are kind of awful, aren’t we?” I looked at him, a small smile creeping onto my face.
“The worst for sure.” We shared a look and both laughed softly.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah, well, thought I’d return the favor since you told me yours.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. There was still something big from my past I needed to tell him, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.Soon.
“How about I clean this up and we can start a movie?” Landon suggested. I wasn’t about to tell him he didn’t need to stay, that he already did enough. I wanted him to stay more than I wanted anything else.
“I’ll go change.” While I was wearing somewhat comfy clothes, I really wanted my pj’s, especially after spending way too long at the hospital in them. “I’ll be right back.” I cradled my hand to my chest, not bothering to use the sling the doctor sent me home with.
“Let me know if you need help,” he called after me as he got to work on clearing up the living room.
Changing proved to be even harder with a cast. I got my sweater off after and pulled one of Landon’s shirts on, but my pants were another issue. I glared at the fuzzy bottoms in my hand. I clearly wasn’t used to the cast, and whenever I did move, my hand still hurt. Paired with my still-heightened emotions, I didn’t want to deal with the pants.
I left my bottoms on the floor and went to my bathroom in Landon’s T-shirt. I cringed at my reflection and prayed I didn’t actually look like this the entire time I was at the hospital.
I tried to brush my teeth, the main word beingtried. If only I was left-handed, all of this would be easier. I felt like a little kid that got toothpaste everywhere the first time they brushed their teeth.
My frustration grew when I pulled my hair out of my ponytail and tried to re-pull it up. The knotted pieces hung by my face as pressure built behind my eyes. I was never much of a crier, but the tears came on quick. I was an emotional wreck as I leaned against the counter and silently cried as I tried to get myself together.
“Babe?”
I lifted my eyes to the mirror and found Landon behind me. As soon as I met his eyes, I started crying even harder.
“I can’t pull my hair up,” I sobbed, overwhelmed by the stress, exhaustion, and the effects of the medications crashing over me. “And I can’t wear pants.”
In two long strides, Landon came to my side and turned me around before he wrapped his arms around me. His chin came down on top of my head as I buried my face in his chest. His warmth and sturdiness had me burrowing deeper.
“It’s okay,” he whispered against my head.
He let me cry into his chest until the tears finally ebbed. He placed soft kisses on my head as I gripped the back of his shirt. His steadiness grounded me as I slowly calmed down.
“Sorry,” I sniffled.
“Hey.” Landon pulled back so he could cup the sides of my face, those beautiful hazel eyes soft as his thumbs brushed the tops of my cheekbones. “Don’t ever apologize.”
“I got your shirt all wet.” My eyes found the dark spot on his shirt where my face had been.
“Not the worst thing you’ve gotten wet.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “Pretty sure you’ve gotten my face wet a time or two.”
“You are such a perv,” I said, but my words held no fire.
“Funny, you don’t complain when my head’s between your legs,” he said casually, clearly trying to steer the mood away from my tears and back to something lighter.
A shaky laugh slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
“Let me help you with your hair so we can go watch a movie.” He reached around me to grab the brush as I turned around to face the mirror with him at my back.
I watched through the glass, my heart feeling like it was going to burst, as Landon gently ran the brush through my hair. He was doing it so softly, like he was afraid it was going to hurt me. As he started to gather my hair in his hands to make a ponytail, I couldn’t help but snort.
“You’re gripping my hair like you’re about to fuck me.” He had my hair clamped in one hand close to my head, fingers spread through the strands. He held it like he did when he slid took me from behind. It was definitely not how a woman pulled her own hair up.
His grip tightened a smidge as he yanked my head back by my hair, making me crane my neck backward until I was looking at him upside down.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
I welcomed the pulse that started between my legs at his tone. This was way more familiar territory.
