Page 40 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

13

Candi

The morning sun filters in through the windows, spilling warm, white light into the living room. It takes me a few seconds to orient myself. I rarely sleep on the sofa and my head’s still stuffy from my cold. I look toward my feet, Enzo’s lying on the chaise part of the sofa looking very uncomfortable. Arms folded at his chest, feet crossed, and head awkwardly propped on a sofa pillow.He’s still here.

I can’t believe he came to take care of me. I can’t believe he still wants to see me after I told him about Dom. Says a lot about him that he’s willing to take a chance with some chick who’s still fucked up about her boyfriend dying years ago.

Maybe opening myself up isn’t about finding the kind of love I had with Dom. It never occurred to me how much pressure I was putting on myself around that. Maybe opening myself up is about finding a companion, someone I can care about who cares about me. It doesn’t have to be love.

Even though I’m still stuffy, I feel a lot better. I roll off my blanket, put on my flannel shirt, and go to the bathroom. Catching myself in the mirror, I’m a wreck. I don’t have time to shower before he wakes up. So, I splash my face with water, get sleepy-goo out of my eyes, try to tidy my bun on my head, and quickly brush my teeth.

When I go into the kitchen to make coffee, there’s very little evidence that he was there. No dishes in the sink, no mess on the counters. After seeing his place, this is just as I’d expect. I don’t know if he’s a coffee drinker, but I brew enough for both of us then check my phone for emails. Thank God I don’t have a shoot today.

It’s not long before the aromatic coffee penetrates the air. I get two ivory mugs out of the cabinet and Enzo rounds the corner into the kitchen, hair slightly disheveled.

“Good morning,” he mumbles, then takes me in his arms and kisses the top of my head like it’s the most natural thing. “How are you feeling?” he asks, releasing me.

“Actually, I feel a lot better. Are you some kind of shamanic healer?” I jest.

He chuckles, rubbing his neck. “No. I work out a lot and I like learning about the body and muscles and recovery. I got a book about acupuncture once. It’s pretty fascinating.” He moves his hand to his lower back and stretches to one side then the other. The features of his face contort with the movement.

My face squinches at his discomfort. “Not the best night’s sleep?”

“Hah. No. It’s okay though. I didn’t have a way to lock your door if I left, so I stayed. Hope that’s all right.”

Hmh, thoughtful, protective.“Yeah, absolutely. I wish I knew how to do some of your voodoo magic on you.”

He laughs. “I’ll be okay. Hot shower, some stretching, I’ll be fine. Coffee smells good.”

“I made enough for both of us.”

He pours coffee into our mugs. Quietly, we each scoop in sugar and pour in creamer. I walk over to my dinette and he follows me like it’s our daily routine.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he says, sitting at the table. “Do you get to rest today?”

I sit next to him. “I do. And I’m looking forward to eating more of the soup you made me,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “I have a shoot downtown tomorrow, so I’m going to take a steamy shower and be lazy so I can feel a hundred percent by the morning.”

“That sounds like the perfect thing to do. If you need anything, let me know and I’ll bring it to you.”

I smile and shake my head slightly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. I know how independent and capable you are, and I love that about you. I also know you’re not used to being taken care of. But you’re going to have to get used to that with me because I plan on taking care of you, even when you’re not sick.” He sips his coffee.

Well, that was very matter-of-fact. And I kind of like it. But I have no idea what to say to that.

A silly chuckle releases from me. “Okay.”

“Listen, I’m out of town tomorrow through Wednesday for a shoot. What’re you doing Thursday night? Can we reschedule for then?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in town. I’d like that.” Excitement rises in my chest.

“Good.” He takes a gulp of coffee. “I’m gonna get going. I want to hit the gym and I have a few things to do before I pack. Got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I walk him to the door where he puts on his shoes.

When he stands back up, he faces me, ticking up my pulse.

“Thank you again for coming over and taking care of me.”

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