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Tommy is on his knees, once again, cupping my cheeks like I’m the most precious thing in the world which, combined with the pain that persists, sends me into full-on crying.
“What happened?” he whispers.
“How are you this wonderful?” I ask, blubbering and trying to find something to wipe my nose with before it runs. Somehow, I think even if I had mascara running down my face and was blowing my nose constantly, Tommy would still be here. He’d stay to help while I was sick versus just leaving me to my own devices, which is heart-warming and a little terrifying.
Chapter 20: Tommy
Two feelings battle inside of me: relief that borders on the edge of laughter because she’s not in more pain, and anger that she’s crying because someone wants to take care of her when she’s hurting.
“I don’t know who you’ve dated in the past, but I can promise you one thing, Samantha Davies: I won’t let a single day go by without you knowing how lucky I am to be with you.”
Okay, maybe that was a bit overbearing. We’re not officially together, but Jesus Christ, her past relationships must have been with complete tools.
Sam scrunches up her face. “I’m sorry, I’m just a complete mess.”
“Why would you ever need to apologize for that?”
Her eyes well up again and I change tactics, trying to get her out of this headspace of someone showing common decency being amazing.
“Truth or dare.”
She takes a sharp breath in and pauses, her eyes finding mine. “Truth.”
“Are you okay with the idea of us being,” I give myself a moment to not put too fine a label on things, “a thing?”
She searches my face, like I might be trying to walk her into a trap. I want to throttle her exes. But then, she nods.
“Yes?” I ask, needing to be sure.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Perfect,” I say, leaning over and kissing her again. Her lips are incredible and her breath hitches just a little, even though these are some of the most chaste kisses two people can manage. I pull back, my hands still cradling her face.
“You have one job while I’m cooking.”
She opens her eyes with a questioning look.
“Relax right here. Okay?”
“I can do that,” she says, her eyes clearing up.
I grab the remote that’s on the other end of the table and put it in her hand. “And pick out something for us to watch.”
“Okay.”
“Do you need anything else? Another blanket or tea?” I ask, trying to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
“No, everything is perfect,” she says.
“Liar,” I say.
“Well, as perfect as can be while dealing with cramps.” She thinks for a moment. “You’re going to be less than twenty feet away.”
“Alright,” I kiss her once more and turn around before I crawl behind her on the couch and hold her, trying to take away some of the pain. Courtney used to have terrible cramps every month before she went on birth control and I guess I’ve just gone into autopilot from taking care of her.
Once I’ve done a preliminary search of what she has on hand, I ask if chicken and rice soup will be okay.
“That sounds so amazing right now,” she says, her head resting on the back cushions.
