Slade woke up the next morning with a crick in his neck. Stretching his arms over his head, he sat up, tilting his head side to side in hopes to alleviate the pain in his neck. Looking around, Slade saw he was on the couch in his living room. When he remembered it was because Lacey had fallen asleep in his bed last night, he smiled-something he had caught himself doing every time he thought about his beautiful girlfriend. 

       Standing up from the couch, Slade grabbed the shirt from beside the couch, slipping it over his head as he quietly made his way to his bedroom to see if Lacey was still sleeping. As carefully as he could, Slade opened the bedroom door. Opening it about six inches, the door hinges squeaked loudly, causing Lacey to stir in bed. Stopping in his tracks, Slade waited for a little bit to see if Lacey would just go back to sleep, or if he woke her up. When Lacey looked over at the door, then sat back against the headboard, Slade walked into his bedroom.

       Crossing the room, Slade took a seat on the edge of his bed, wrapping his hand over Lacey's knees. "Sorry I woke you up, darlin'. It's early, why don't you try to get some more sleep?" 

       Rubbing her eyes, Lacey replied, "You didn't wake me up, I have been dozing on and off for the past hour. I needed to wake up anyways. I won't be able to sleep anymore, thank you, though." With a smile, she rested her hands on top of where Slade's were on her knees. She stared at her hands for a second as she saw Slade rubbing a finger over her left thigh, something she couldn't feel. 

      "So, how'd you sleep?" Slade asked, unaware that Lacey couldn't feel his hands on her leg. 

       Drawing her eyes back up to look in Slade's, she replied, "I slept really well. Your bed is so comfortable. I can't remember the last time that I slept through the whole night without waking up or anything." 

       "I'm glad. Yeah, your parents really went all out providing me with a really nice bed when I started workin' here." Rubbing a finger over Lacey's hand that his fingers were weaved through, Slade asked, "What would you like for breakfast?" 

      "You don't have to make me breakfast, Slade." Lacey smiled at him, thinking that she could really get used to him being the first face she saw in the morning. 

       "Sure I do. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and you're a guest in my house, so I'm obliged to make you breakfast." 

        "Oh, I'm just a guest in your house?" Lacey teased, a mischievous look in her eyes. 

        Leaning forward, Slade pressed his lips against her forehead. "You're more than just a guest. You're my girlfriend, and I just have to say that I loved it that you were the first face I saw this morning and I want you to know that you're always welcome in my loft." Slade smiled, caressing Lacey's cheek. 

       "Thank you, Slade, I appreciate it." She replied, attempting not to blush. 

       Sitting back down on the bed, Slade asked again, "So, what do you want for breakfast?" 

       "Surprise me." Lacey decided. 

       "I think I can do that." Slade stood up off the bed, seeing Lacey sit up more as if she was going to grab her wheelchair. "Nuh uh. You're not comin' with me." He smiled. 

       "Why not? I love watching you cook." Lacey protested.

       "Because, I want to serve my girlfriend breakfast in bed, but I can't do that if she's not in bed." Slade shot back.

       Putting her hands up in surrender, Lacey smiled. "Alright. I will stay in bed. But I'm goin' to miss you." 

       With a smile, Slade bent down, brushing his lips against Lacey's cheek in a kiss. "I'll miss you even more." With that, Slade turned, walking out of his bedroom.

         "Hurry back, cowboy." Lacey called after him with a chuckle.

         In the kitchen, Slade busied himself preparing Lacey and himself some breakfast. Opening up his refrigerator, Slade mumbled, "What to make? What to make?" He tapped his fingers on the top of the fridge door, staring at the sparsely filled shelves.

        Deciding he had enough ingredients to make some omelets, Slade pulled out some cheese, eggs, ham, and onions. Omelets were something that Slade used to always make for his siblings; he made them so much that he got tired of just eggs and cheese, so he had begun to experiment with different ingredients. His family always loved some ham, sharp cheddar cheese, and onions in their omelets, and Slade hadn't made one in a while, so he decided to impress Lacey with his expertise in the kitchen.

        As Slade was adding the fixings in the omelet, he caught himself smiling. Once again, he was thinking about Lacey and how she was the only girl that he could ever imagine doing this for. He wouldn't mind waking up next to her down the road and making her breakfast every morning. She is the first, and only, girl that he had made breakfast for. Slade wasn't one to believe in love at first sight, but with Lacey, that really could be a different story. The thought only made his smile grow bigger. He was so giddy that he felt like whistling and dancing a little jig, but a loud crash coming from his bedroom diverted all of his happy thoughts.

        Without any hesitation, Slade abandoned his cooking and took off towards his bedroom calling Lacey's name. Flinging open his bedroom door, Slade took in the scene before him. "Lacey!" He called out, seeing her laying on the floor on her side, her legs motionless and bent beneath her. She had somehow fallen out of bed. On her way down, probably in an attempt to catch herself, Lacey had knocked over his lamp and a picture frame off of the bedside table. He noticed that her wheelchair had been pushed away from beside the bed, and it was facing the wrong way.

        Careful to not step on any glass with his bare feet, Slade carefully bent down to help Lacey who was trying to sit up. "Lacey, honey, what happened?" He wrapped his arms around Lacey, sitting her up away from the scattered pieces of glass. 

        Reaching down, Lacey untangled her legs, setting them straight again. She stared down at them, her shoulders slumping. "I had to use the bathroom."

        Slade was worried sick about her, so much so that he didn't feel the shards of glass digging into his leg. "Babe, why didn't you call for me?" He asked, more concerned than angry. 

        "Because, Slade, I wanted to do it on my own. Everything was fine, and I would have been able to get out of bed just fine, but one of the brakes on my chair wasn't on, so when I tried lowering myself, my chair got away from me, and now here I am." 

        "Well, do you hurt anywhere?" Slade asked, worriedly. Not thinking, he ran a hand over Lacey's legs, feeling for any abnormalities.  

        "I don't know if anything hurts, Slade, because I can't freakin' feel anything in my legs!" Lacey shouted at her boyfriend, who was only trying to help. She wasn't mad at him; she was mad at herself.  

        "Hon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

        "I'm just so sick of all of this. I can't do anything!" Lacey interrupted. She felt a swell of tears rising in her throat. For the first time in her life, Lacey let her guard down, not caring if the tears fell to her cheeks; only twice in her life had she cried in front of someone else. Slade tightened his arms around her, pulling her against him, just holding her as she sobbed. Reeling back, Lacey's hands formed fists as she realized for the first time that the only reason Slade paid attention to her was because he felt bad for her; he pitied her, and used her handicap as his way to gain reputation and get an 'in' with her parents. He didn't actually care about her; this was all for himself. Dropping her clenched fists on Slade's chest, Lacey screamed mean and hurtful things to him, the tears never stopping as she continued to rat on his chest. The whole time that she was screaming at him, Slade took the punches, gently rocking Lacey in his arms as he apologized profusely to her. "Please just go away and leave me alone, Slade. I don't want you or need you here right now." Lacey said quietly, her fists no longer clenched, and her tears stopped.

       Reaching up to her cheek, Slade caressed Lacey's face, running his thumbs over her skin to wipe away her tears. Looking down at Lacey with sadness and concern, Slade said, "Darlin', I'm sorry, but I am not goin' to leave you right now. I know you're upset, but I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm stayin' right here." His hold on her never loosened around Lacey as he practically held her in his lap. 

       It wasn't even five minutes later that another round of tears began flowing from Lacey's eyes. This time, however, they weren't angry tears. "Slade, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I'm mad at myself, not at you. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean anything I said. Please don't leave me." Lacey begged, burying her head in Slade's shirt. 

        Resting his chin on top of her head, Slade continued to rock his girlfriend in his arms. "I know you didn't mean it. I'm never goin' to leave you. I forgive you, hon. It's okay." He kissed the top of her hair. "Why don't we get you into your chair, and make sure you don't have any cuts?" 

       Lacey nodded, wiping her cheeks dry. Slade carefully stood up, Lacey in his arms. Making sure both brakes were set, Slade carefully set Lacey down in her chair. Just as he let her go, he felt a warm residue on her forearm. "Lace, you're bleedin'!" Slade picked up her forearm, inspecting it closer. "You have a piece of glass stuck in your arm. Come on, let's go get you cleaned up." Slade let go of her arm; taking the wheel brakes off, Slade pushed Lacey out of his room and to the bathroom. 

       Once Lacey was in the bathroom, Slade lifted her up, setting her on the counter. She was so grateful that even though his ribs were still sore from Smokey kicking him, Slade was strong enough to effortlessly lift and carry Lacey. Immediately, he busied himself getting the things he needed to clean out her cut. "Here, let me see it." Slade said, carefully grabbing Lacey's arm. Lifting it up, closer to the light, Slade gently maneuvered the tweezers into the decent size cut in her arm. On the first try, Slade was able to remove a small piece of glass. Letting her arm go for a second, Slade prepared a warm wash rag to wipe the blood off her arm. Turning to his sink again, Slade grabbed a couple cotton balls, coating them with hydrogen peroxide. 

        Holding Lacey's red, injured arm, he warned her, "This is goin' to sting some." As gently as he could, Slade dabbed the cut with the cotton balls, looking up to make sure he wasn't hurting her too bad. "You okay?" Slade asked and Lacey nodded in response, watching Slade, and wondering how the thought about him not caring about her could have ever cross her mind. 

        For the last time, Slade stepped away from Lacey, grabbing a few Q-tips, Neosporin, and some band-aids. Stepping back in front of Lacey, her legs dangling on either side of him, Slade bent over Lacey's arm, doing everything he could to not hurt her more.

       Reaching out, Lacey fingered Slade's right ear, tracing her finger down to a small scar he had right below his ear lobe. It was a scar that she had never noticed before, but then again, this was the first time that she had ever been fully eye level with Slade. Part of her hurt because of the number of scars that Slade had-it hurt her to know that the majority of those scars came from someone in his childhood, but the other part of her was glad he had the scars. They reminded her that his scars had taught him something about his past and he has learned and changed because of them. His past had made him a better person. And it certainly taught him how to take care of others very well. Taking that to heart, Lacey realized how influential Slade was. From what he's shared with her, Slade had a horrible childhood, and went through things that no one should ever have to go through. But still, he came out on top, and he had learned to leave the past in the past, striving to be a better person. He had truly changed, for the better, something Lacey didn't believe people could truly do. Seeing the type of man he is now showed Lacey that she didn't have to let her scars, or her paralysis define her. The man standing in front of her, his calloused hands working so delicately on her arm that she had even forgotten she had a cut, is a truly remarkable man. And he was hers; he chose to be with her out of all the millions of other girls he could have chosen, he still chose her. It was a realization Lacey prayed she would never forget.

        Running her finger down, softly, over Slade's face, Lacey rested her hand on Slade's defined jaw bone, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb. The action made Slade look up from his work on her arm. Slowly, he lifted his head as Lacey said in a quiet voice, "You always take such great care of me. Even when I don't deserve it. Nobody has ever taken as good of care of me as you have."  And with that, Slade began ever so slowly leaning in, Lacey doing the same. 

       Before they got any closer, chivalrous Slade asked, "Lacey, are you okay with this?" 

        "Yes." Was the only word that she could form. Lacey's hand still rested on Slade's jawbone, her head turned sideways, her eyelids partially closed.

        Resting his hands on her waist, Slade slowly leaned in to Lacey, their lips finally meeting for a long, perfect kiss. Lacey absolutely melted in Slade's arms as she wrapped her uninjured arm around Slade's neck, only pulling him closer to her. Again, she kissed him deeply, and this time it was Slade who melted. His hands slowly made their way up her back, reaching her face as he leaned in for another perfect kiss. Before his lips could land into hers, a loud beeping resonating from the kitchen drew the couple away with a jump. 

        "Shoot, our breakfast! I'll be right back." Slade hesitantly pulled away from Lacey, running into the kitchen. 

        In the meantime, Lacey sat on the bathroom counter, her lips still buzzing from Slade's kisses. Never in her life had she been kissed like that; it was the epitome of a perfect kiss. The only thing that she would have changed was she wished it could have lasted longer. 

       About a minute later, the beeping of the smoke alarm went off, and Slade reappeared in the bathroom, leaning against the door frame with a frying pan in his hand. In the pan, a burnt, smoky, black substance. What is used to be, Lacey couldn't tell. Smiling at Lacey, Slade said, "Before you even ask, it was an omelet." Making his way into the bathroom, Slade added, "And it would have been a delicious omelet if you hadn't gone and been stubborn and gotten yourself hurt." Standing in front of Lacey, his smile grew, dimples beginning to peak through. "But I think it's safe to say the distraction was well worth the burnt food." He added when Lacey wrapped her arms around his neck again. Leaning forward, Slade expected another wonderful kiss from Lacey, but instead, she pulled back from him. Giving her a look, Slade questioned, "What's wrong?"

       "I'm not kissin' you when you have a skillet in your hand." Lacey grinned, loving the look on Slade's face. 

        Obeying Lacey, Slade set the skillet down in the bathroom sink. Looking back to Lacey, his eyes gleamed. "How about now?" 

        Rolling her eyes, Lacey patted Slade's shoulders before dropping her hands. "Get it out of here, then maybe we will see about another kiss." 

        "Yes, ma'am." Slade smiled, walking out of the bathroom, skillet in his hand. 

        After scraping the omelet out of the skillet and into the waste can, then filling the skillet with soap and water to soak, Slade walked back into the bathroom with a smile on his face, but that smile quickly faded when he saw a still blushing Lacey holding a piece of toilet paper against the cut on her forearm that had started bleeding again. 

        "I'll put another band aid on it. Sorry it started bleeding again." Slade grabbed Lacey's arm, carefully ripping off the old band aids. Grabbing some gauze and tape from the medicine cabinet, Slade washed his hands before bandaging Lacey's arm again. Knowing her injury was more important than a kiss right now, Slade went to work wrapping the gauze around her arm. 

         As he worked, Lacey rested a hand on his shoulder, fiddling with the hair on the base of his neck. She caught herself staring at Slade. This was the first time, besides earlier, that she had been perfectly eye level with him. For the first time she was able to really see how beautiful his blue eyes were, how long his dark eyelashes were, how soft his dark brown hair was, and his set jaw as he was careful to not hurt his girlfriend as he worked on her arm. Running her fingers through his hair, Lacey saw how long it was getting; it was definitely in need of a trim. 

        Once her arm was all wrapped up by Slade's calloused, but careful hands, he smiled at her. "There, all done. Now, what do you say I make you breakfast for real this time. I'll even let you sit in the kitchen with me so you can't hurt yourself again." There was a teasing edge to his words.

        "It's closer to lunch time now, dear. Why don't I just make us some sandwiches or something? That way, we can get to work sooner." Lacey offered. 

       "But I like cooking for you." Slade teasingly whined. But seeing the stern look on Lacey's face made him agree with her. "Yes ma'am. Sandwiches it is." 

         Lacey smiled. She had trained him so well. "Good boy." She teased, resting her hands on Slade's shoulders, allowing him to lower her into her wheelchair. 

          Once they were in the kitchen, the couple began making their sandwiches for lunch. The whole time they were cooking, Slade was being obnoxious, making Lacey laugh harder than she ever had before. Never in her life did she think she would be able to completely move on from her ex-boyfriend, Jeremy, because of the mental abuse he put her through, but being here with Slade, Lacey was so grateful that God had showed her how to be happy again.