Page 36 of Rushed: Christopher

“Okay, guys, noisy stuff is over,” he said. A moment later, Pip wobbled his way out of the closet. Right on his heels was a huge, white rabbit with floppy ears. Rush glanced at me and said, “I didn’t want the noise to scare Pip, so I brought him some company.”

“Oh my God,” I said as I watched the kitten and the rabbit interact. The rabbit appeared to be guiding Pip away from things the kitten could stumble over like the little handheld vacuum cleaner I kept just outside the closet and one of the decorative pillows that had fallen to the floor at some point, probably while Rush and I had been watching movies the night before.

“Thumper’s a good mama,” Rush added as he crouched down. I did the same. Thumper immediately began nudging Pip toward us.

“Awww, thank you, sweetie,” I said as I ran my hand over the rabbit’s silky soft fur. Pip, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to sit next to the bunny and use her body as leverage so he could groom himself.

“Thumper is litter box trained, so she won’t make a mess, and I got her stuff set up in the closet next to Pip’s. But if you don’t want—”

“I want,” I interrupted. I looked at Rush. “Thank you.” I glanced at the rose I was still holding on to as well as the animals. “You’ve been busy,” I said.

“I had a plan to execute and needed the head start,” Rush corrected. He gave me a peck on the lips and said, “Go get ready. We need to make a stop at my hotel before breakfast.” Rush took the rose from me and helped me stand. “Don’t forget your meds,” he added. He hesitated and then added, “Sorry, you know what you need to do. I’ll stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” I asked in confusion.

“Nagging you to remember to take them. You’ve been dealing with this by yourself for a long time now, and you don’t need someone riding you all the time.”

“Riding me?” I asked, raising my brows a bit.

“Jesus, fuck, no, not riding you like riding you—”

“You’re too easy,” I said with a laugh. I wrapped my arms around Rush, who was growling something under his breath that probably had to do with my supposed punishment. But he didn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “And you’re not nagging,” I said against his neck. “I like knowing that someone is watching out for me.” Nervous energy flowed through me as I added, “I like knowing thatyou’rewatching out for me, Rush.”

“Always, Christopher. Always.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RUSH

“That’s not a bike… that’s a… that’s a…”

I watched in amusement as Christopher stared at my Harley.

As soon as we’d left his house in my car, he’d reminded me that we needed to grab his bicycle. I’d ignored him, and when he’d questioned what I was doing, I’d simply told him he’d see soon enough. The drive to my hotel had taken only a few minutes, but the ride was so very different from the one when I’d driven him to get his hand stitched up.

Christopher was relaxed and light. I’d never seen him smile so much. And he touched me.

A lot.

Mostly just to get my attention as he pointed out some interesting sight or landmark, but the Christopher from three days ago wouldn’t have done that. Nor would he have joked around with me and even pranked me.

I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would be unicorns and rainbows from here on out, but I wanted to believe I’d gotten past enough of Christopher’s walls to reach the real him. I was fully expecting him to lash out verbally or shut down completely in the future as our relationship intensified, but I was ready for it.

He was scared.

I got that.

I was terrified but for entirely different reasons. I knew how fragile life could be and how easily it could be snuffed out. Add in the fact that I knew next to nothing about Christopher’s prognosis, and I was a mess. I just did a really good job of hiding it.

“You game?” I asked Christopher. We’d already been inside my room so he could meet the other four rabbits I called family. He’d fallen in love with the little critters but hadn’t liked my lack of creativity when he’d learned the names of the last three rabbits I’d gotten.

“Thumper, Bugs, Three, Four, and Five,” Christopher had chided, his long arms crossed in front of him. “Yeah, that needs to change.”

I’d merely smiled and told him to get on it.

Now if I could only get him on the Harley.

“Aren’t these things called donor cycles or something like that?” Christopher asked.

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