I rub the area above my left eye. The headaches have been getting better, but I can feel one forming. It pisses me off. After the workout that Skye just gave me, and the peace I feel, the last thing I want is another of these damned headaches. They vary in levels, but some of these fuckers can be blinding in pain. I’ve tried to keep the really bad ones hid from Skye. It shouldn’t make me feel weak, but it does. It’s worse now, because she needs me to be strong. She might not believe this threat is credible, but something in the pit of my stomach says it is. Which means, Skye needs a strong man, ready and able to defend her.

“Headache?” her sweet voice asks me. She’s sleepy and there’s a huskiness in her tone that I could easily listen to for the rest of my life.

“A small one,” I curve into her body, then turn her. I don’t want her to see me if the pain worsens. I kiss her shoulder, and I’m rewarded when she puts her hand over mine at her waist, and lets her fingers stroke gently against mine.

“I like this the most,” she says.

“What’s that, Doc?” I ask her.

“You holding me, feeling you surround me, and hearing your voice when I’m tired—all of it. When I think of us, this is what comes to mind the most.”

Her answer does funny things to me. No one has been proud of me like Skye is. At least none I can remember. None that mattered. Maybe that’s why my voice is so thick with emotion when I answer. It’s an unusual feeling.

“Us, Doc? You better watch it, you’re starting to sound like you want to keep me around.”

Skye turns her head, to look over her shoulder at me. A man could die happy when she looks at him like that.

“I never want to let you go.”

My hand goes to the side of her neck, to hold her in place. My lips come down on hers, and our kiss is a promise. A promise that fills every part inside of me. I’m not going anywhere. I knew from the moment I saw her that she was my future. Every minute I get with her, I’m more convinced.

She turns on her back, and our kiss deepens. She’s like aged scotch, going straight to my head. My hand trails down over her breast and stomach and that’s when it happens. Pain so intense that it flashes and hits me right behind my eyes. It’s like someone takes a red-hot poker and stabs them repeatedly. I want to keep it quiet, not to let her see, but when it happens all at once like this, I can’t prepare. I groan, and my eyes clench shut, then I fall back on the bed.

Skye leans over me and her hand goes to my forehead. Even with the pain, her touch feels good. I just can’t enjoy it.

“Bull? Tell me what’s wrong. Is it your head?”

I hear her questions, but I can’t respond. All I can do is grunt, “Fuck.”

“Oh God, honey,” I hear her, and a minute later she’s moves to crouch beside me. She’s pushing on my shoulder, trying to turn me on my side. I go along with it, because I’m hurting so bad, I don’t much give a fuck. This is probably the worst one I’ve had since we’ve started seeing each other. There’s no way to keep it hid, like I have the others. Skye tilts my head forward, and then her hands are at the base of my skull. She presses hard there, and keeps the same pressure, but pushes upwards in a circular motion. Slowly it eases the pain. Not a lot, but it’s not as blinding. “Any better?” she whispers near my ear. I hear it, but barely. The roaring of my blood and the beating of my heart echoes in my ears.

“Little.” I can only manage one word. She clasps between my thumb and index finger. She moves her hand up to thickest area, and pinches—applying pressure. After a little bit, she switches hands. Slowly the pain lessens. It’s still there, but a dull roar compared to what it had been. “What are you doing?”

“Using pressure points to ease your pain. We need to get you back to a neurologist.”

“I’ve been to the doctors Skye. They can’t find a physical trigger. Which pisses me off, this isn’t in my mind.”

She moves, situating herself behind me, maneuvering so I’m resting against her, in between her legs. My back is against her stomach and my head is on her chest. She tilts me to reach the base of my neck, and begins massaging there.

“Of course it’s not. I read a little bit about the trauma that you suffered in your hospital file. Do you still have the tremors too?”

“Well fuck, Doc. What’s the point of keeping shit from you, if you have already seen everything?”

“Gee, Bull. I don’t know. A better question might be, why in the world would you try to hide this from me?”

“I’m not weak, Skye.”

“I never thought you were. Though, I’m starting to wonder how smart you are if you think I could ever view you as weak. Now, sit up for a second, and let me get you some medicine…”

“No pills, Doc.”

“Bull…”

“I’m not taking no goddamn pills.”

Her movements halt abruptly, she takes a deep breath and lets it out.

“Now that I have you Skye, I’m not taking a chance on anything that might make me lose you. No pills.”

“Bull? What does that even mean?”

“I saw you, and the minute you stood up to me, something clicked. I knew you were it. I wasn’t about to touch that stuff again when I had my future staring at me.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“No pills, Doc. I’m not putting that in jeopardy.”

“It’s Ibuprofen, and a very mild dose, and your future? Do you know how crazy that sounds? You didn’t even know me! Heck-fire! You don’t even know me now! I could be a serial killer! Bull, that’s not even sane and it’s a piss poor reason for being sober. You can’t pin your reason for staying sober on another person. That’s just doomed for failure.”

“Who says? It’s a damned good reason for me. And I do know you. I know everything about you.”

“No, you don’t, we just started dating, Bull, seriously…”

“I know you love the smell of coffee, but can’t stand the taste. I know you take two hour long bubble baths even when you can barely stay awake, because it helps you unwind. I know your favorite food is Chicken Marsala, you only drink water with a twist of lemon on the side, but when you’ve had a really bad day, you will drink red wine. I know you love foot massages while you’re watching silly Christmas movies on television, even though you say you don’t like television. I know you hate the taste of spinach but love the dip made from it. I know you never talk to your parents, and that they cut you off when you became pregnant with Matthew. I know you will come up with the craziest words to use instead of curse words, because you don’t want to be a bad influence on Matthew. I know you love chocolate ice cream, but hate chocolate pudding. I know….”

“Okay, okay. Stop it already. I get it. You take really good notes when I talk.”

“I’m not taking notes, Skye. You’re important to me. Everything you are, and everything you do fascinates me. I’m not taking notes. I’m learning about the woman I love, because it brings me joy.”

“Dang it, Bull! Do not make me cry. I’m going to get up and get you some ibuprofen. It’s not addictive, and hopefully it will stave off the majority of the pain,” she says, patting my back, “lean up and let me out of here.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to let her leave. I like this connection with her. I do it, but as she stands up, I grab her hand and pull her so her lips are near mine. I look in her eyes. They punch me in the gut, just like they have from the beginning.

“I love you, Doc.”

She doesn’t answer, like I hoped, but she leans in and gives me her mouth. My tongue leisurely invades her mouth, taking time to taste her, and relearn everything about her, from the flavor, the texture, and hidden areas. Her tongue mates with mine, just as slow, just as relaxed, and somehow, it draws a deeper response between us than has been there before.

When we break apart her forehead rests on mine, her fingers are caressing each side of my neck.

“You aren’t why I’m sober, Skye. You’re the reason I want to be a better person. The reason I want to be a man that deserves you,” I tell her, letting my hands get lost in her hair.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Bull. If I didn’t believe that completely, I would never trust you with Matty, because he’s the most important thing in my life.”

I take in her words and let her leave me. Our eyes stay connected, because she backs away from me. I think it might be happiness I see in her. I can’t help but return her smile—even through the pain.

“There’s something you don’t know about me, Bull,” she says before she leaves the room.

I don’t want to tell her she’s wrong, but I’m pretty sure I know all things Skye.

“What’s that, Doc?” I ask, just to humor her.

“When you smile? I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.”

Damn. That’s all I can think. Damn.

“I’ll be sure to do that more,” I tell her.

“That’d be appreciated, heck I might even reward you.”

I do the only thing I can…I smile bigger.