Conflicted Love
Page 17

A snort escaped me, “Next time, just piss on me. It’d do the same thing and probably save splitting your lip open again.” I noticed the cut on his lip had opened up from his caveman display.
With a grunt, he moved me behind him and shuffled to the bed sliding under the covers. He gripped my hand once he was settled. “Lay it on us, Dick, I mean, Doc. What’s the verdict?” I dug my nails into the side of his hand as a warning.
“Well, you seem to be in good health. Everything appears to be fine. Our only concern is the fact you had a head injury and were unconscious for a good period of time,” Alex told us keeping his eyes on the clipboard in his hands.
“My head’s fine. I remember everything I need to and I want to go home,” Trip said quietly letting my hand go and pulling the blanket up higher.
My heart sank. He really did think I didn’t love him.
Apparently, we were either as blind as each other or just ignorant. I hadn’t realized he loved me because I never thought it was even a possibility. He’d taken my silence as me not feeling the same. I needed to tell him how I felt, but I feared it might already be too late. The show he’d put on before was just that, a show, and only for the doctor. While it frustrated the hell out me, I was in no mood to be in the middle of a pissing contest. I was his. It was finally time to stop the games and the shitty sidestepping.
“I would be more comfortable if you stayed overnight just to keep an eye on you and make sure you have no neurological problems. It’s a precautionary measure that I strongly suggest you accept.” Dr. Alex looked at Trip who was wincing but nodded anyway. “Okay, I’ll have the nurse come in and give you some more pain medication. Your head should stop hurting over the next few hours. In the meantime, you need only take something to take the edge off.” Trip looked toward the window clearly dismissing us. The doctor wrote something down, turned and left the room leaving us alone with an awkward silence.
“Thanks for coming. I’m okay so you can probably go now,” Trip whispered not looking at me.
I felt my nose sting and the tears pool in my eyes. He didn’t want me here. I had messed this up, but I was wearing my big girl knickers and it was time to step up. “No!” I burst out, “No, I won’t go anywhere. I’m staying right here. And you’re going to give me a chance to explain.”
His head snapped back like I’d slapped him across the face. He glared at me but didn’t say a word, so I decided to push on with my speech. “You didn’t even give me time to answer you before you stomped out of the house like a petulant child.” I put my hand up at him when he opened his mouth to cut me off. “I had things to say to you and you didn’t let me.“ His scowl stopped my rant in its tracks.
He scoffed, “You cried. I handed you my heart and you fucking cried. You don’t feel the same. I got that, but don’t sit here now acting all high and mighty like I did something wrong. Excuse me if I didn’t want a play-by-play of all the reasons why you don’t want me,” he snarled, his face a mask of anger that didn’t hide the underlying hurt he was feeling.
“I do though. That’s just the thing. I love you. I just lost my words. I never thought it was possible for you to feel like that about me. Besides the fact, we’re all wrong for each other, damn it, Trip. I do freakin’ love you.” I ranted at him. Tears streamed down my face and I was pretty sure I looked like ass.
Trip’s eyes searched my face while I kept up the rambling. “I—you just didn’t give me a minute to tell you that. I was crying because, well, I cry! That’s what I do! Not before, but now, I cry all the damn time. Shit, I cry when the fabric softener commercial comes on! I cry when we’re out of pickles! I just cry and I—” My rant died as Trip pulled me down to him and kissed the words right out of my mouth. He slid his tongue across my bottom lip and bit down gently tearing a small gasp from me. Before I knew it, his hands were in my hair and he was devouring me.
He pulled back just enough to growl against my lips, “You love me.” A statement. Fact.
He pulled me down onto the bed beside him. Lying face-to–face, pressed as tightly as my swollen belly would allow, I nodded and leaned my forehead against his. Squeezing my eyes closed, I focused on regulating my jagged breathing.
“You scared me. We couldn’t find you,” I mumbled relaxing when his hand ran slowly over my hip. “I was terrified. The police came to the door and I thought…” Closing my eyes, I whispered, “I thought you were gone.”
The tears started again at the mention of my early morning visitors. “Shhh, Princess. I’m okay.” He pushed the hair off my face and kissed my forehead ever so gently. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m right here.” I couldn’t even feel badly that I was curled up crying in his arms because they were warm and safe. They held promises I couldn’t even believe I deserved. Promises that I had craved since I was a young child and alone.
“What happened?” I sniffled against his neck where I had dropped my face.
“I’m still not entirely sure, but the police told me a driver clipped the front wheel of my bike. It was raining and only just daylight. I don’t remember much of it, but I do remember that I flew through the air, and next thing I knew, I woke up here.” He rubbed a thumb softly up and down my arm and went on, “I was brought in here but I had no wallet or phone, nothing to identify me so they couldn’t tell who I was until I woke up and could talk. The only thing I managed to get out was your name before I passed out again. I guess they tracked you down and that’s it; that’s all I know.”
I fell silent wondering where he’d been the entire night. I had just gotten up the courage to ask when a nurse poked her head in the door and smiled brightly, “I just need to check a few things before I give you some pain relief.” She shuffled in and set to work taking Trip’s temperature and blood pressure. I shifted to move off the bed and out of the way when Trip’s hold tightened and he whispered, “I was up at the lookout, alone. All night. Just thinking.” His gorgeous eyes implored me to hear him and understand. He was beaten and bruised in a hospital bed, yet he was comforting me.
“I’ve gotta get home and get dressed. You made me leave the house in pajamas, no bra and slippers. I look like crap.” I snuggled back into his side making no attempt to leave. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe and wanted. The irony of it was, the person who had originally made me feel lost and out of touch, was making me feel like I was home for the very first time in my life.
The nurse quietly fluttered about poking and prodding Trip before pushing a syringe into his IV. He tightened his arms and kissed the top of my head before mumbling, “I love you.” Before I knew it, his breathing evened out and his arms went soft.
I slid down off the bed and called a cab to take me home. He looked so peaceful sleeping, one arm cocked behind his head, the sheet riding low on his hips, that a warmth I’d never felt before flowed over me and a small smile broke over my face at the possibilities. Our relationship didn’t promise to be an easy one, but I’d be damned if I didn’t make sure it was worth every second.
Chapter Eighteen
Trip
Two weeks later…
“Just let me carry it,” I told her again. We’d spent the last twenty minutes playing tug of war and arguing about who was carrying all her crap. As a result, we were going to be late for the birthing class. “Give it here. You’re too big to be dragging all this shit around.”
“Did you just call me fat?” Teeny’s eyes flared. Her bottom lip quivered.
Fuck! She was gonna cry. Again.
“No, Princess. I just meant you look uncomfortable and I’m sure your back’s hurting carrying the baby on top of your own weight,” I explained in a gentle voice trying to stop the waterworks from turning on.
“You are calling me fat!” she sniffled, her eyes tearing.
It didn’t matter what I said, she always took it the wrong way and cried or threw a fit. I was exhausted just dealing with her mood swings. Twenty-nine weeks of this and I was biting my tongue almost as much as I was putting my foot in my mouth. Fuck knows how she was handling it. Something so innocent like wanting to carry her bag and pillow had turned into a meltdown.
“Damn it. I’m not calling you fat. I’m trying to help.” I leaned down into the passenger’s side of the car, snuggled my face into her neck dropping a line of small kisses, with a nibble thrown in for good measure. “I’m not calling you fat, Princess. You get to carry the baby around all the time. I want to carry your things so I don’t feel left out,” I mumbled into her neck playing the bullshit left-out card. It worked every time.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Well, I don’t want you to feel like that.” Her hand came up to the side of my face. She pulled my lips towards hers. “You’re in my way and you’ve made us late now.” There she went again, switching gears from teary to pissy in a millisecond. I swear I had whiplash.
“I made us late? You just had another—”
She promptly cut me off pulling herself out of the car as I stepped aside. “Yes, you made us late. Now, let’s go.” I locked the car doors, tucked her pillow under my arm and the stupid flowery bag over my shoulder before catching up to Teeny’s waddling ass. “You kind of made a big deal about nothing. I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to feel left out for long,” she giggled moving as fast as her legs could go.
“What do you mean?” Something about the glint in her eye and the way she was powering on said she was up to something. “Teeny?”
“Oh look, a restroom. I need to pee. Be right back.” Teen quickly ducked in through the door leaving me standing in the walkway looking like an idiot with her prissy-ass bag and hot-pink pillow. I leaned back against the wall rubbing my hand back-and-forth over my beanie waiting. The door swung open a few minutes later. A smiling Teeny waddled out, stopped and laid a hot heavy kiss on me before pulling back. Smiling and wandering off in the direction of the classroom, she left me to follow after her with a boner that threatened to pop my jean’s buttons.
“Will you do something about that thing?” Teeny hissed quietly. I’d worked at getting rid of my hard-on until the idiotic teacher lady had Teeny get on her hands and knees doing some breathing exercise. About three point four seconds later, I was back where I started. Who the hell comes up with something like that anyway? She’d told us, ‘Partners, please kneel behind your ladies and gently rub her back in a slow circular motion. This will help to reduce some of the pressure and just generally relax mommy while she’s in labor’. Teen was sitting between my legs, and leaning back against me waiting on the teacher to show us some other way to breathe or rub a back, or how to talk to a chick in labor.
“I can’t do anything about that thing, because that thing likes you on all fours wiggling your ass in the air,” I whispered in her ear nibbling on her neck. If I was gonna be turned on, so was she; it was only fair. I snuck my hand up under the pillow she had clutched in front of her and gave her nipple a quick flick causing her to gasp and land an elbow right into my stomach.