Page 42 of Pervade Montego Bay

“We’ll be fine,” I told the nurse.

Inside his bedside cabinet, I discovered his clothes in a plastic bag. I pulled out his trousers and handed them to him. “They’re a bit creased.”

“Like I care.” Xavier pulled his arm out of the sling, tugged on his shirt and then scooted to the edge of the bed. He rose to his feet and slid off his PJs. When he stepped into his trousers, his legs suddenly collapsed beneath him. I caught him, wrapping my arm around his waist to keep him from falling.

Xavier stared at the floor, seemingly shocked by his weakness. His eyes rose to meet mine.

“You okay?” I asked.

I should have let him go at that point, helped him sit on the bed. But the way he leaned against my chest made me realize he’d needed this moment of kindness. This intimacy felt pure. I conveyed with a look of empathy that I wouldn’t let him fall.

He reached back and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re coming home with me,” I said firmly. “This is not a discussion.”

“I’ve already been quite the burden.”

“I’m pulling rank.” I winked. “You can continue to convalesce at my place.”

“It’s safe?”

“Safest place on the planet.”

“Montego Bay,” he spoke the name like a song. “Wow.”

His endearing reaction hit me in my gut and I felt a swell of affection for him.

This wasn’t me. Empathy wasn’t something I had any use for. Yet he was compelling. The swelling had gone down in his face and he once again looked striking, those sharp cheek bones giving him an exotic aura. His golden skin made his eyes pop as they reflected his curiosity.

He pulled back a little. “What?”

I shook myself from daydreaming.

“Do I look that bad, Ballad?”

“Call me James.” I helped him slide his arm back into its sling. “Let’s get you home.”

“Home?”

I assisted with his trousers and pulled them up.

He took over with his zipper. My hands brushed over his toned body when I pulled his shirt on, causing a tingling sensation in my fingers—so much so that I snapped my hands away.

I noted the bruises scattered here and there, and traced one on his neck with a fingertip as I tried to find the words to express how bad I felt for him.

Xavier held my stare. Maybe it was my culpability that made me allow this moment to pass between us. Or maybe it was the rare connection of two men who’d faced off with death. We’d needed each other in Macau. We needed each other now. Fate had thrown us together as powerfully as one of this island’s storms.

His attention slid from my eyes to my mouth and then back up again. It could have passed for an intimate moment if I didn’t know him better.

“How do you get used to it?” he asked softly.

I blinked, clearing my thoughts.

“The frogs singing,” he clarified.

“I don’t hear it anymore.” I yanked open the curtain and came face to face with the nurse. “We’re ready to leave.”

“I’ll get the wheelchair,” she said.