“Jesus…” Willow gasps as she sits forward on the couch. “Who in the hell can afford that?”
“The out-of-pocket portions are still pretty high even with the insurance. Without insurance, it’s practically unobtainable. The only way to help her was to marry her and put her on my coverage.”
“What’s the disease called?” Willow inquires.
I relay everything I’ve learned in the last two and a half weeks since I found out about Willow’s PNH. My sister peppers me with questions, and I’m proud I have most of the answers. The research I did was pretty extensive, and I’ve grilled Regan on a lot of things as well.
When Willow is satisfied she understands as much as she can, she regards me with a tinge of hero worship. “You did the absolute right thing, Dax. But why didn’t Lance leave her with anything?”
“Lots of reasons.” I explain that some of it was because of her expenses, but a good chunk of it was also just plain mismanagement of his money. We all know Lance loved Regan more than anything in this world, but he suffered the same delusion most people do when they’re young and at the height of their careers.
That nothing bad will ever happen to them.
“Unbelievable,” Willow murmurs, her gaze drifting off as she worries at her bottom lip. “But why couldn’t she just tell me?”
“She doesn’t feel good about marrying for something other than love and for something as basic as insurance.”
“That’s understandable,” Willow replies, her eyes searching mine. “But why keep her illness hidden?”
I shrug. “It’s not like we saw each other a lot. I think she was just trying to deal with it as best she could. I’m sure she would have at some point.”
But that comment sounds hollow to my ears, although Willow nods her understanding.
She stretches her legs, plants her feet on the floor, and starts to stand. “Well, I better head to bed. It’s been a long night.”
“There’s one more thing,” I say. She freezes, hovering above the cushion a moment before she eases down. I’ve told her some pretty bad news tonight. By the tone of my voice, I’m sure she’s thinking there’s worse to come.
“What?” she whispers.
“Regan and I are sleeping together,” I say without trying to tone down the challenge in my voice.
“Oh, fuck no,” Willow hisses as she shoots off the couch. She wags a finger while scowling. “No, no, no, Dax. She’s not cut out for you. You’ll traumatize her.”
“Flare your dramatics much?” I mutter sarcastically.
“You’ll hurt her,” she warns, not being dramatic. Even I realize there’s a chance that’s going to happen.
“I hope that’s not true,” is the best I can promise.
“If you’re not in it for the long haul—or for reasons other than just because the sex is good—you’re going to really, really hurt her, Dax. Regan is not built for casual relationships.”
“You don’t know that,” I growl from low within my belly. Willow’s assertion is a direct threat to my immediate happiness, and I’m selfishly going to defend against it. “You don’t know Regan any better than I do.”
“You’re wrong, Dax,” she murmurs, taking a step closer to me. Standing over me, she says, “I’m a woman, and that means I know her in a way you don’t.”
“But you’re nothing like her,” I point out. “You only do casual relationships. You don’t like commitment. So you being a woman doesn’t mean you have any greater insight into Regan’s mind than I do.”
Willow’s mouth snaps shut. Her eyes flash with anger, but I can see by her expression I’ve hit the mark. She can’t argue with my very spot-on assessment.
She huffs in frustration, scrubbing her hand through her hair. With a sigh, she admits, “She’s been through enough, Dax. Losing Lance… being sick. She deserves to be happy.”
“And what if I can make her happy?” I ask curiously, having no fucking clue if I’m the man for the job. I just know there’s something unique between us that transcends the amazing sex. I’ve got a bond with her I’ve never felt with another person.
Willow doesn’t answer me, which is discouraging to say the least. Instead, she bends at the waist to place a kiss on the top of my head. “Be careful, Dax. That’s all I’ll say.”
That is good advice, which I intend to follow.CHAPTER 18ReganI hear the clink of dishes and low voices as I tiptoe down the stairs. I woke up in Dax’s bed with him beside me. He was already awake, just lying on his side watching me. I was a bit surprised I’d stayed in his bed all night. I’d have expected him to have regrets like he had the first time and come up with some lame excuse to boot me from his room.
Instead, he’d merely pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Not in a sexual way, but not sweetly either. I’d describe it more as an affirmation.