Things had changed. His leg was fucked up, and Lena didn’t deserve to be stuck with a cripple when she had three other perfectly healthy men. His family didn’t deserve to have the burden of a weak son when their other sons were perfect.
He had thought that
he wanted to die and to end it all, but in a moment of life and death, he thought of Lena. He realized that he was more afraid of losing her and never getting to love her than he was of having to live life as a cripple. He didn’t want to die. He wanted Lena.
He was back in his house, in his bed, and still she kept waking him, concerned over his well-being. He needed forty stitches, and his head throbbed continuously. Lena talked softly to him and caressed his bad leg despite his attitude and plea for her to stop. He didn’t like being weak in front of her.
Now, here she was, lying beside him on his bed out cold. Her face was scrunched up, and she looked so serious even in her sleep. She was worried about him.
He gently reached down and caressed her hair. He saw that the bruising on her cheek and eye were still bad and now more discolored and ugly looking.
He wished he had been there to protect her or at least beat the crap out of the asshole that hit her. She was so strong and beautiful.
She began to move around and blink her eyes open.
Tilting her head up, she locked gazes with him.
“Hey, are you okay? Do you need anything?” she asked, jumping up, concerned.
He pulled her to him and pressed her head and cheek down onto his bare chest. He caressed her back and she snuggled against him.
“I’m feeling a lot better. Maybe you don’t have to wake me so often anymore?” he asked her.
She tilted her head up toward him.
“I will until Doc tells me not to.”
She began to move away when he placed his hand against her cheek and chin, making her look up toward his face. She adjusted her position so that she leaned on one elbow and was face-to-face with him.
“Thank you, Lena,” he whispered, and he saw her aqua-blue eyes sparkle.
* * * *
Lena swallowed hard. She had no idea what had come over Bryant. He seemed so different. His mood swings were making her head spin.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, and he caressed her back, sending tiny vibrations of awareness through her body. She shifted and sat up.
“Where are you going?” he asked then squinted his eyes as if the movement caused him pain.
“Are you okay?” She laid her palm against his bare chest and he covered her hand with his own.
“Very okay, Lena. Stay with me. Don’t go home?” he asked, and she looked at him strangely and in disbelief.
“Where’s the real Bryant, and what have you done with him?” she asked very seriously.
He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.
“He was lost, Lena, but you found him and brought him back home.”
Lena gulped.
“Come here,” he whispered as he stared deeply into her eyes. She lowered her face toward his until she felt his hand creep gently up her side and to the base of her neck. He guided her head closer toward him and kissed her on the mouth.
His kiss was warm and tender. He tasted like sweet tea and chicken, which was what she had made him for dinner this evening. His tongue explored her mouth, and they each kissed with passion and in an exploratory fashion. She felt his arm wrap around her waist, and a moment later hoisted her body easily on top of his own. She pulled from his mouth.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Bryant.”
“A light little thing like you? No worries, darling. I’ve been waiting over a month to kiss these lips and feel this body in my arms. I’ve got a lot of wasted time to make up,” he told her then kissed her again. This time he had total control over her lips and her body as he explored with his hands and then with his mouth.