That'd be the smart thing to do, I knew, and I almost agreed. She'd go back to cleaning the house, checking on my bandages, making sure I did my exercises. I'd go back to being an asshole ninety percent of the time. It'd be easier, that was for sure. But I didn't want to be like that.
“Can I make a counter offer?” I found myself asking. If she didn't want to, I'd let it go, but I had to ask, or I'd regret it.
“Okay?” She cocked her head, curiosity written on her face. “What is it?”
“We pretend like what happened downstairs stopped right before I did something stupid,” I said. “And we make plans to have another...session so you can teach me more.”
There was silence as I waited for her answer, and I tried not to let anything I felt show on my face. She had to think that my interest was in learning, not in her. She had to think that I wanted to use this with other women, though the thought of that didn't appeal to me at all. I didn't want to be with anyone but her.
“Okay,” she said finally. “We can keep working, but we're going to stick to the rules from here on out. If either of us crosses the line again, we'll be done.”
“Agreed,” I said immediately. It wasn't like I had to worry about her breaking any of the rules. She'd only reacted to what I'd done.
She probably only kissed me back so I wouldn't feel bad. A pity kiss.
The thought made me sick.
Chapter Eight
Nori
I couldn't stop thinking about that stupid kiss.
And I tried. Over the next couple days, I tried everything in my power to forget. I worked my ass off cooking, packing the fridge and freezer with prepared meals and sweets until there wasn't any room left. I exercised until every muscle in my body ached. I cleaned every single inch of the house.
Three times.
By Sunday afternoon, every part of my body hurt, and I was no closer to getting X's kiss out of my head. I could feel his lips on mine, taste him, hear the sounds he made. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the look in his eyes just before his lips claimed mine. That raw wanting.
And then I could hear him a few minutes later when he said that it hadn't meant anything. When he'd asked if we could pretend his momentary lapse in judgment hadn't happened. Then asked if we could continue our sessions.
I'd agreed, of course. How could I do anything else? I had to save him.
Even if it was going to be...difficult to keep myself in check. I couldn't let my personal feelings get in the way of what I needed to do.
Fortunately, I'd had a lot of practice over the years when it came to putting others' needs in front of my own. And for X, I had no problem doing it again.
I knew it wasn't exactly healthy, me acting like it was my responsibility to save X because I hadn't been able to save Logan, but the thought of him hurting himself because I'd walked away wasn't an option. No matter what the consequences were for me.
I just had to be more careful about things, that was all.
When I went down to X's floor the day after the kiss to help Kipp dress the few remaining spots on X that needed attention, it was clear that he was thinking along the same lines. Things between us felt awkward, off, as if we'd thrown our usual rhythm out of whack. On Saturday, things were a bit better, and on Sunday, even more so. Better enough that I felt comfortable with suggesting to X that we have another session Monday night.
Monday afternoon, when I walked into the therapy room, things between the two of us had shifted again. I felt the difference. We still had some caution between us, but it no longer felt like I was walking on eggshells.
“How did things go today?” I kept the question general so that either Kipp or X could answer.
“Pretty well,” Kipp said. He gave me a wide smile. “I'm guessing that means he's been keeping up with things on the days I'm not here.”
I glanced at X and saw him frowning. “He is,” I answered as I crossed over to where he was sitting. “Let's get those bandages off and see how things look.”
X didn't move as I began to peel off the few dressings that remained. I made myself focus on the skin, the wounds, checking for infection or any other signs of trauma. I couldn't think about the fact that he was shirtless, or the way I remembered his hair feeling against my fingers.
“I think we can leave this one off,” I said as I examined a spot on his chest that had required some extra care. “Looks like the skin's healed well enough now, as long as you're careful and it doesn't tear.”
The one on his back was still a little too raw to go uncovered, but it was healing well also. Probably another day or so and he'd be able to have that one removed too. The ones on his side and on his arm would still need care for at least a few weeks longer. They'd gotten infected a couple days after the accident and were taking more time to fully heal. By the end of the month, however, he probably wouldn't require any additional assistance and his PT sessions could be cut down to just the days Kipp could come by.