“Whoa, easy.” He caught her up in his arms before she could fall. “We don’t want any more injuries, do we?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
He set her down on the bed and crouched in front of her, reaching up to brush away her tears. “Hey, what’s this? I know it’s primitive out here but I’m going to take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”
The tears came faster. “S-sorry.”
“Sh, I know it’s a lot to take in—”
“It’s not that. I mean, this is a lot, but I feel so out of my depth. With everything.”
“With me?”
She nodded. “I’m not experienced at anything. I’m a total klutz. I can’t even be trusted to walk on the porch because you’re worried I’ll end up hurting myself and I—”
He sat next to her, pulling her onto his lap and rocking her back and forth. He kissed the top of her head.
“Stop crying now. None of this is worth crying over.”
She pulled back to glare up at him. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t cry over.”
“Prefer you didn’t cry at all.”
“That’s not going to happen. I get emotional every time I get my period.” She groaned. “And I cannot believe I just blurted that out.”
“Is it time for your period, baby girl?”
God, she couldn’t believe she’d said that. Women didn’t talk about that sort of stuff with their lovers, right? Guys didn’t want to know about it.
“Forget I mentioned anything.”
She tried to climb off his lap, but he held her still. He ran his hand up and down her back.
“Your parents died when you were twelve. Before you got your period?”
She really, really didn’t want to talk about this.
“Flick?”
“Do we have to talk about this? I mean, I know it’s not something men like to discuss.”
“What makes you say that? Your brother didn’t talk to you about it?”
“Of course not,” she squeaked out.
“Who helped you with your first period, sunshine? Who got you the stuff you needed? Talked to you about what to do when you got cramps? Who explained it all?”
“I . . . I . . . West . . ”
“I get that you’re embarrassed, baby girl. What you need to get is I’m not. This is stuff we have to be able to talk about. I need to know what’s going with your body just like you need to know what’s happening to me. You’re gonna need someone to rub your tummy, to run out and get you painkillers or tampons or chocolate, and who do you think is going to do that?”
Is he for real?
“I’ve been taking care of myself like that for years.”
“And now you have me, so you don’t gotta take care of it anymore. You’re not alone anymore, Flick.”
“I’ve never been alone.”