I blink once and then again. Our eyes stay locked, his words looping in my head like they’re stuck there. No one’s ever said that to me before. I’ve never had anyone volunteer to take care of me. Why is he doing this?
“I don’t know why you just said that,” I say, lifting my chin. “Some context would be nice.”
“There’s no context,” he replies. Then, after a beat, “And there’s a lot of it.” He gets to his feet. “I just want you to know I’m always gonna be around.”
I grimace. “Do you know how creepy that sounds? Always around doing what, exactly?” I shift against the pillows. “And if this is about stopping me from having fun or your idea that you have some control over me, you should know something…crippling me wouldn’t even work. I’m that determined.”
“You know I hate to lose,” he says.
