a couple of tries they swept up to reveal her blue eyes, seemingly alert but for the lingering grogginess of sleep.
“Hey, there.” He smoothed her hair off her forehead. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” Her voice was raspy.
Without letting go of her hand, he reached for the cup of ice chips a nurse had left on the bedside table. He dipped the spoon and pulled it out with a piece of ice. “Here,” he said. When she opened her mouth he placed the ice on her tongue. He replaced the spoon in the cup. “The doctors say you should be fine,” he said, not wanting to give her the full truth until he thought she’d be up for hearing it. That truth was they were hopeful, optimistic even, but really didn’t know. “Do you have any feeling in your left side?”
She thought about it, her face scrunching up. “My leg tingles a bit. And it hurts on that side when I breathe, so I suppose some of the numbness must be fading.” She shifted against the sheets, a wince tightening the corners of her mouth.
“Well, that’s a good sign,” he said. “At least you’re feeling something now. Can you move your legs?”
Her right leg slid under the covers, then her left, and she let out a cranky, “Ow.”
“Let’s not do that again for a while,” Finn offered.
“Yes, let’s not.” She stared at their joined hands and began to play with his fingers. Finally she whispered, “I should have trusted you.”
“When?” he asked. Deciding to be fair about it, he added, “When I was lying to you, maybe? Or telling Liuz it didn’t matter if he killed you? Is that when you should have trusted me?”
“That bit did worry me a smidge,” she admitted with a small smile. She raised her eyes to his. “I believed you when you said all those months ago that you wanted to do more with your life. I should have come right out and asked you what was going on instead of letting my own insecurities allow me to make assumptions. I should have been there for you, like a friend would be.”
Finn brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss in her soft palm, folding her fingers over as if he could keep it stored there. God knew she had his heart in her hands. “The same could be said of me, you know. You’d cleaned up your act. And there I was, ready to believe you’d so easily slide back into old habits.”
“It wasn’t easy, yet it was.” She wet her lips and it made him want to lean over and kiss her. But she was in no condition for him to get frisky, so he reined in his libido. Keira went on. “I was amazed myself at how simple it was to walk right back into that old life. It’s very addicting.”
“That rush when you’re on a job?” he asked. She nodded and he huffed a sigh. “Well, regardless, I should have trusted you more, too. So I guess both of us were a little too quick to believe ill of the other. We have a lot to learn about trust. About each other.”
“Yes, we do.” She paused. Just as he said, “Keira, I have something to tell you,” she said, “Finn, look, about us.”
They both stopped, stared at each other while an awkward silence grew. Finally he said, “I know the gentlemanly thing to do would be to tell you to go first, but I need to tell you something.”
“All right.” She sat quietly, holding his hand, her calm gaze on his.
He couldn’t meet her eyes and tell her what he needed to. Give him a big, badass demon or vampire to kill and he was Mr. Mighty. Confess his love for one woman? Mr. Wimpy. He cleared his throat. “I should have told you this weeks ago, Keira. When I first realized it. But I denied it even to myself. Especially to myself. Because I didn’t think I was ready. I had too many other plans.”
When he didn’t go on, she said, “Finn? What exactly is it you’re trying to tell me?”
“I shouldn’t have hidden behind a mediocre word like ‘care.’” He swore he could hear her in his head, saying You need to look a woman in the eyes when you tell her you love her, you great big lummox. He knew she didn’t have that capability, but if he mumbled it while staring at her hand, he’d be