Page 80 of Shiver
When I mention how I got them to agree, Rake stares at me. Silent. For so long that I begin to squirm under his stare. “Hospital stay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. I was severely dehydrated and, uh, hungry.” Admitting that I inadvertently starved myself is not something I’ve said out loud.
His nostrils flare and his eyes go dark. He clenches his jaw so tightly I can hear his teeth grind. Then his eyes close and he takes a breath. “Alright,” he whispers. “Back to work.”
He was extra, extra worshiping that night. The anger at himself kicked up a notch with that admission. I forgot I hadn’t told him or I might have avoided it.
Rake spends every single minute with me that he can. When we’re not in classes or I’m at the arena, he’s with me. Walking me where I need to go. Feeding me. Being the only person I see. I’m so consumed in this that practice all week goes by unnoticed. I’m sure that I’m there and doing something, but I’m completely oblivious to it. And to my teammates.
They haven’t burst my bubble yet. Not that I give them a chance by showing up at the last possible second and leaving before I even shower. I’d much rather shower at Rake’s apartment, when he can join me in washing away the day. We take that time for me to tell him anything I haven’t about the day. Which isn’t ever much and yet the conversation never lulls.
Then he dries me, dresses me, and feeds me. After all the pampering, I’m stuck studying for at least three hours. Monday through Friday, this is my life.
But by Friday night, I’m defeated.
“I’m still going to fail physiology and chemical systems,” I say as I sink dejectedly against the wall. There’s only two weeks left of actual classes before finals. And there are not enough assignments I can turn in to make up for the month of my absence. Even with the allowances I was granted.
“You’ll pass,” Rake says, pulling me from the wall and washing me. I close my eyes, not wanting to argue right now. I would when we get out because there really isn’t anything I can do. Because I’ve looked. And calculated. I’m done.
When we’re sitting at the table, I drop my head into my hands. Rake immediately pulls me to him and hugs me. “You’re not going to fail. I got you extra credit.”
I pull away and stare with wide eyes. “How?” I ask.
He gives me a wry smile. “I may be a dick, but I’m a well-respected one in the science department,” he says, sighing. “I gave both your professors a censored version of me fucking with you and asked them both if they’d let you have extra credit.”
“They agreed?” I ask, dumbfounded.
Rake grins. “Yes. Reluctantly, but yes.”
I love his smiles. He never smiled before. Not like this. But the walls he had up to protect him before, aren’t there anymore. Now he smiles at me. And I fucking melt.
He pulls out two sheets of paper and begins explaining what I’ll need to do to earn the points. We spend the weekend on these projects. And when we’re not working on them, we’re studying. And when we’re not studying, we’re at the gym in his basement.
Of course, Rake noticed that hockey was exhausting me. It doesn’t take much to fall out of shape. So, along with my studying, he added more conditioning. But none of that matters. I’ll do whatever torture he gives me if it means I can be with him again.
After the third shower of the day, because I’ve sweat my ass off in the gym that many times between subjects, Rake pushes me onto the couch and tells me to rest while he makes dinner. I listen to him in the kitchen with my eyes closed. The television is on with a constant low murmur of Sports Spot flipping between multiple games as they cover them, but I focus on Rake.
He’s here.
Maybe it shouldn’t have been so easy to forgive him. Maybe I should have made him beg or something. But all I wanted was to be with him again. He’s my person. The person that makes me whole. That makes everything okay.
And it’s not just the parts of our relationship that he nurtures, but I have his support in my academics and hockey. He makes them a priority in our relationship. Refusing to let me fail. Giving me all his free time, more than I think he actually has, so that I can keep my scholarship and my place on the team.
My heart beats for him. And if that makes me pathetic to have taken him back so easily, then I don’t care. I’ll accept that. All I know was being without Rake for that month was the worst of my entire life. It was too much. Too hard. Too painful. I don’t want to go through it again. Ever.
I need to be with him.
Since we haven’t had much time to really do anything that’s truly boyfriend-y, there haven’t been any challenges. He hasn’t struggled. When Rake is focused on tutoring, he doesn’t have much time for anything else.
Except making sure I eat and sleep.
His weight next to me on the couch makes me open my eyes. Apparently, we’re eating in front of the television tonight.
“Thought we’d give your muscles a break and sit somewhere comfortable,” he says, smirking at me.
I’d complain, except he exercises right beside me without complaint.
We eat the noodles, meat, and sauce concoction he’s thrown together. Rake makes sure I eat two bowls. And then he pulls me against him and we settle into the couch.
