Heath took the proffered hand and righted himself.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m more embarrassed than anything,” Heath said as he brushed dust off his trousers and jacket. “Bloody useless leg.”
“I shouldn’t have kept you here so long, knowing you were still recovering from yesterday.”
The desire from a moment ago was replaced with anger at the insinuation of Heath’s disability. “I don’t need coddling.”
“I wasn’t implying that you do.”
“Yes, you are. Why else would you have made such a remark?” Heath bent down to retrieve his cane. “I hired a tutor, not a nursemaid. I’m a grown man who can do what he wants, when he wants.”
Kane threw his hands up in the air. “Very well. The next time you stumble, I will let you fall.” He crossed his arms. “Because you’re a man who knows what he wants.”
Heath really must try not to be so touchy when it came to his injury. But pride always seemed to get in the way. Now he’d made a muddle of things. Heath pursed his lips into a thin line, refusing to take the bait and argue further. There was no sense in it.
Kane stood waiting for a response, one eyebrow arched, as if daring Heath to continue their quarrel.Damnation. Why did the man have to look so delectable when he was lecturing? Had Kane used a similar expression when he was cross with other pupils, or only with him? Of course, Kane’s previous students were all children, not a grown man. The realization made Heath feel even worse that he had acted so childishly and lashed out. He grunted, admitting defeat, before heading toward the door.
“You are the most stubborn man I have ever met,” Kane said.
The statement made Heath stop. His first instinct was to lash out with another rude comment, but he thought better of it. He wasn’t mad at Kane, not really. Heath was taking his frustrations out on Kane, and it wasn’t fair.
“I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Kane closed the distance between them. “I know.”
“It’s just that...it’s difficult at times with this leg. I get so frustrated.” He shook his head.
“It’s understandable. You’re still adjusting to it.”
“But I don’t want to get used to it.” Heath’s voice had a sharp edge. “I want to be back to the way I used to be,” he paused, dropping his head, “but I know I can’t. None of us can.”
They would never be the same, not him, nor his friends from the hospital. For the rest of their lives, they would have to live with their disabilities, but sometimes it was so hard. Heath’s throat constricted. It had been ages since he’d felt this sorry for himself, so lost.
He heard, rather than saw, Kane come up to him. His woodsy scent engulfed Heath, filling his nostrils, sliding over his body like a soothing balm.
“Sometimes there are things about ourselves that we want to change, but we cannot,” Kane said.
Heath lifted his head to meet Kane’s stare.
“So we must embrace those faults and learn to live with them, because they are what make us unique...special.”
It was the most moving thing Heath had ever heard. Kane was right. He couldn’t change what had happened, so what was the use of bemoaning the fact repeatedly when it would do nothing? Instead of feeling sorry for himself, Heath needed to focus his energy on his new life. Yes, he would try to do better.
Kane was watching him. Probably trying to see if his words had done any good. Heath gave the man a half-hearted smile.
What am I going to do when Kane leaves?The man was already such an integral part of his life.
Heath’s mind was racing so frantically that he didn’t realize something had caught Kane’s attention, his gaze focused just above Heath. Then Kane brushed his fingers through Heath’s disheveled locks. “You have dust in your hair.”
“Thank you.” Heath’s voice was low, the words thick in his throat. The way Kane’s fingers rhythmically combed his hair was soothing and erotic at the same time. Heath wanted to lean into him, beg him not to stop—ever.
“There,” Kane said, “much better. Your hair is an interesting shade of brown. In the sunlight, it almost looks red.”
“My mother’s hair was like that.”
“It’s very becoming.”