His expression flattens. “Not great. He wants me to focus on a few stretches and strengthening exercises.”
“Okay. That’s not so bad.”
He finally looks at me. “He restricted my nighttime activities.”
I swallow. “Oh.”
“I mean, I can have sex, but I can’t be on top. I shouldn’t put my weight on my forearms or lean over. Apparently, I shouldn’t bend you over like a pretzel.”
“So almost everything we did last night.”
“Pretty much.”
“Aww, that sucks, but I’m sure we can find some fun alternatives.” I curl up next to him and rest my head on his shoulder, and he hisses. I jerk away.
“Sorry, Bay. Everything hurts today. That’s another thing. I shouldn’t sleep on my side because it puts pressure on my neck and shoulder. So, no spooning.”
If I’m reading between the lines correctly, I can’t really snuggle him either because I might put my head on his chest in my sleep. Bummer. But I don’t want to make him feel worse, so I don’t mention this. “It’s not forever. You’re getting more serious about rehab and feeling better after a horrible winter. It’ll just take a little time.”
Even as I say the words, I feel our clock ticking in the background. How long will he have to do this? A week? Two weeks? A month? Will he be back in New York by the time he can resume normal activities and we’ll already be over by then?
I keep my grim outlook to myself and force a smile. “I’m really proud of you for going. No matter what happens withfootball, getting stronger is the right thing to do. You’ve always been athletic. Even when we were kids and you and your brothers would race across the fields and leap into the river, you’ve always been a little feral. I’d hate for you to rein that in because you didn’t rehab correctly.”
His lips tilt up. “Feral, huh?”
“Yes, wild boy.” Arching my head up, I kiss him, making sure I don’t inadvertently lean on him.
He brushes my hair out of my face. “How was work today? How’s our boy?”
My heart sings when he says those words.Our boy.How I wish it was true. “I had a visitor this afternoon. Sean stopped by.”
His eyes go glacial. “The fuck did he want?”
“To apologize.” I explain the conversation I had with my ex. I hate dumping this on Maverick today, but this is a small town, and I don’t want him to hear this from someone else.
“So he wants to get back together with you? I hope you told him over my dead body.”
Surprised by the vehemence in his voice, I smile. “Why, Maverick Walker, are you jealous?”
He yanks me into his lap, and I nearly collapse on him. At the last minute, I’m able to brace myself on the couch cushion behind him. We’re almost nose to nose when he growls, “Yes, Baylee. I’m fucking jealous.”
Once I get my balance, I grab his scruffy face and graze my lips against his. “I’ve always been yours, Maverick. Pretty sure that’s not going to change.” I don’t mean to make such a vulnerable confession, but I don’t want him to doubt my intentions.
“Bay,” he whispers and pulls me closer.
I lean back. “Should I really be on top of you right now?”
“This is a medically acceptable sex position.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I need to feed the baby, and you’ve been in pain. Maybe we hold off for a day or two.”
The grimace on his face is laughable. “Two days? Why? We just got to the good stuff. We should be fucking twelve ways to Sunday.”
“And while I would love that, motherhood calls. Plus, I’m guessing your physical therapist didn’t want you to come straight home and have sex, right?”
He rolls his eyes. “He’s not my boss.”
“So I’m right.” I lift a brow.
