Where Nerves End

me, but he didnt need to know that—as I sat up. The room listed beneath me, and when I was fully upright, I rested my elbows on my knees and rubbed my temples as I took a few slow breaths.
I cautiously tilted my head to each side and rolled my shoulders. “Oh, man. That feels so much better.”
“Hopefully thatll let you sleep.”
“Im sure it will.”
“If youre still in pain tomorrow, let me know.”
“Will do.” I smiled, masking a shiver when I met his eyes. “And thank you.”
“Any time.”
We both stood. He started to head for the stairs, but hesitated, turning back toward me.
“You, um, didnt mind me asking about…you know…”
“Rico?”
He nodded.
“No, its okay,” I said. “Probably doesnt hurt to talk about it once in a while.”
“No, I suppose it doesnt.” He shifted his weight. “I just, didnt want to pry. Into anything too personal, you know?”
“Dont worry about it.”
“All right,” he said. “Well, if ever I do step on a nerve or anything, just say so.”
“I will,” said.
We exchanged tired smiles, and then he continued up the stairs.
I stood in the living room for a moment, just savoring the lack of blinding pain. My neck and shoulder still ached, but the worst had passed. In fact, the worst part now was the burning strip where the corner of the wall must have bitten into my back. There would be a bruise tomorrow, possibly some raw skin that Id forget about until I got into the shower, but the excruciating muscle spasms had relaxed.
I went back upstairs and slept like the dead.

CHAPTER 9
    On Sunday, I slept well into the afternoon, as I often did after the weekend chaos at the club. Then it was errands, a couple of beers with Seth at one of the pubs down the road from his tattoo shop, and home well after dark.
    I pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and was headed upstairs to relax for a little while, but did a double take as I walked past the slider. Michael was out on the deck, barefoot and shirtless as always. He was oblivious to me, his forearms resting on the railing and his head tilted upward like he was looking at the stars.
    I thought about leaving him to his thoughts, but…I couldnt help myself. Something tugged at me, nudging me toward the sliding glass door.
    That would be lust Jason. And some serious wishful thinking.

    Probably. Oh well.
    I went to the slider, and when I opened it, he looked over his shoulder.
“Mind if I join you?” I asked.
There was just enough light to illuminate his smile. “Not at all.”
I shut the door behind me and strolled across the deck. Folding my arms on the railing, I leaned over it and held my water bottle between my hands.
“Youve got a gorgeous view out here,” he said, keeping his voice low like he thought he might scare away all the stars if he spoke too loudly.
“You should see it in the wintertime.” I kept my voice quiet too. “Come out here after a good snow when theres a full moon, and its spectacular.”
“Minus the part where its wintertime in Colorado, right?” he said.
I laughed, and somehow, God knew how, I resisted the urge to glance at him, focusing my gaze on Orions belt instead of Michaels. “I didnt say to come out here without a shirt on.”
“What fun is that?” Michael folded his arms on the railing. “Shirts are overrated.”
On you, they certainly are.
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Well see what tune youre singing when its freezing cold and snowing.”
He shrugged. “Ill just have to stay indoors, I guess.”
Which means I’ll have to come out here to cool off.
He turned his head. “Hows your shoulder?”
“A lot better,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Any time. And hey, if gets as bad as it did the other night, dont hesitate to wake me up.”
I sipped my water and set the bottle on the railing. “I appreciate the offer, but I doubt Id ever actually pester you in the middle of the night unless the house was on fire.”
“Well, the offers open,” he said. “Better that than spending the night bruising the hell out of yourself with a sharp corner.”
Heat rushed into my cheeks. “I suppose thats true.”
“If its any consolation,” he said, “youre not the only one who does that.”
“Im not?”
He shook his head. “A lot of my chronic pain patients do things like that. Someone described it to me once as banging your head against a brick wall because it feels so good when you stop.”
“Put it like that,” I muttered, “it sounds even more ridiculous.”
“Not