Pieces of Us (Missing Pieces #3) - N.R. Walker Page 0,39

Oh,” I said, remembering just now. “I’ve got a guy coming next week to see which hoist systems we want. That’s kinda exciting, and also long overdue. I should have done that years ago. And we’ll get those roller chairs that go with them, and Sparra already wants to race you on your scooter. From one end of the shop to the other.”

Juss eventually smiled. “I’ll beat him.”

I snorted as I got up. “You will.” I kissed the side of his head on my way to the kitchen, and ten minutes later, we were eating ham, cheese, and capsicum omelettes. And ten minutes after dinner, Juss was ready for bed again.

Even though it was kind of early, I really hadn’t slept much the night before, so I got ready for bed with him. We settled in under the covers and Juss automatically found his spot, snuggled into me. “My wing tattoo pillow,” he mumbled.

I wrapped him up tight, his familiar body, his familiar warmth was like a balm. “God, I missed you last night. Squish missed you too.”

“Don’t ever want to go back to hospital,” he murmured.

“I know, baby.”

“Was so scared.”

“Me too.”

“Don’t want to be like that again.” Maybe it was easier for him to admit these things in the dark.

I rubbed his back. “I promise I’ll protect you, baby. I won’t let it get to that ever again.”

He nodded against my chest and sighed as he relaxed into a deep sleep. I revelled in the fact he was in my arms again, safe and well, where I wanted to keep him forever.

Chapter Ten

Juss didn’t come downstairs the next two days. He was still wiped, but mostly happy, and spent his time dozing on the couch or in bed. On day three, he came down for a little while in the morning to see the boys. He tidied up a few things here and there, but it was mostly just to be social, to have a laugh, and to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. He made dinner that night and did some laundry, so he was definitely feeling better.

He was still clingy, though, not that I minded that part. But as soon as he saw me, he needed touch: a hug, a kiss, cuddling on the couch. He’d admitted that his setback had scared him, and I believed him.

He didn’t complain about being bored, about being cooped up inside, about not being able to work. I think what scared him most was how close he’d come to going that one step too far, one step from not being able to return.

He was truly listening to his body, not pushing to get back to his new normal, but rather letting his mind and body tell him when he was ready.

On Friday, Juss stayed downstairs with us for a little bit longer, though it was probably just out of curiosity. I was expecting three people to come in for an interview before lunch. The employment agency had done the hard work and narrowed down a prospective employee, but I would get to meet and decide who I thought would be the best fit.

The first girl was young and probably had potential but couldn’t even get through the interview without checking her phone. The second was a guy who Davo and I had caught checking out Justin, and when he realised he’d been caught, he just grinned and mumbled something about a snack.

He was obviously a hard fucking no.

I went through with the interview with him, though I’d already made up my mind. It didn’t help the fact that Davo stood where I could see him through the doorway of my office, laughing his damn head off.

When he’d gone, Davo, still grinning, said, “Your face. The whole interview. Oh my God, so funny.”

“What was funny?” Juss asked.

“That guy thought you were a snack,” Davo said, laughing again. “Thought Dallas was gonna kill him.”

Justin looked confused and horrified. “A snack?”

“Something to eat,” Sparra explained. “It’s a new thing the kids say these days.”

It took him a second, but he nodded. “Oh.”

I grumbled. “He didn’t even try to hide it.” I pointed to my chest. “Justin’s my snack. And anyway, he didn’t know jack shit about bikes or nothing—”

I stopped talking because Davo was laughing so hard he was gonna bust something. He grabbed his side. “Ow, fuck. A stitch.”

Served him right.

Juss was smiling at me. “I’m your snack, am I?”

I was pouting, and I didn’t care. “Yes.”

That, of course, set