A wise move on his behalf. And he just held her until she quieted down.
“I’m s-so sorry,” she told him. “How b-badly did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Bébé.”
“I just kneed you in the balls,” she said, sitting up and wiping at her cheeks.
Urgh! Why was she crying? She wasn’t the one that had gotten hurt.
“And if anyone has the right to cry, it’s you. Why aren’t you crying?” she practically accused him.
“Because I’m fine. I might never be able to father children, but that wasn’t actually in my life plan.”
“Urgh,” she groaned. “I feel so terrible. I can’t believe I did that. Again. You should just not let me near you. I shouldn’t be allowed to touch you.”
“Hey, hey, accidents happen. Now, if you were doing it on purpose, we might have an issue.” He sat up. Slowly.
Shoot. Was he still in pain? How long did pain in the balls last? Could it really stop him from becoming a father?
She needed to do some research into this.
He got up, moving a bit tenderly and grabbed some tissues before sitting on the bed and widening his legs.
“Come here,” he said in a soft voice.
Nuh-uh. She shook her head. She wasn’t going anywhere near him.
“Bébé, come on. Don’t be scared.”
“Not me that should be scared, it’s you,” she told him. “I might hurts you.”
Uh-oh.
Hurts you? That sounded like something . . . like something her Little might say. But she never let her Little out in front of other people. She’d never told anyone about that side of herself.
The only person who could protect her Little was her . . . and if anyone like Kathryn or her father found out . . .
Maya wasn’t sure she could survive someone using her Little side against her. Or ridiculing her. She’d hidden this part of herself for a long time. It was only once she owned her own house that she’d let bits and pieces creep in.
Those bits and pieces were held in tight now, though. She’d packed it up in her closet . . . oh God! Her closet! What if the firefighters looked in there?
What would they think?
Calm down.
What does it matter? They don’t know you. And lots of people probably have boxes of Lego in their closet.
Right?
Urgh.
“Spitfire, come here.” He pointed at the floor between his legs.
“Urgh!” She stomped her foot down. “I don’t want to.”
“Sassiness is cute,” he told her. “But being naughty isn’t.”
“I don’t think you can say that sort of stuff to me!”
