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So there’s really nothing to be self-conscious about. I repeat it to myself as I open the door, forcing myself not to fuss at my curls that I know are going in twelve different directions.
Ben is standing there with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, smiling crookedly at me.
Even concussed, I can appreciate how handsome he is. Dark brown hair that tousles in just the right way, sexy without looking overdone. Few-days-old stubble that sets off the strong line of his jaw and gives him a rugged, outdoorsy look, like he spends his days chopping wood and building things with his bare hands instead of the computer work I know he actually does.
Ben is tall, nearly a foot over my own five-foot-two, with muscly arms and broad shoulders and very nice legs. He’s big without being intimidating, and when he’s at the library with his daughter, holding her hand… my heart never fails to do a little flip. Not to mention he has the most incredible eyes—deep green, like a forest—and when he looks at me...
I’ve had a crush on him for months. But Ben doesn’t date and I’m friend-zoned, and I need to keep reminding myself of that.
“Hi, Ben.” I step back and gesture for him to come inside. “Did Ari send you over here?”
He follows me, pulling the door shut behind him. He locks it without taking his eyes off me, his gaze intense and appraising. His smile dips, and he touches my arm gently. “Thea. Are you okay?” Concern darkens his eyes. “You should sit down.”
“Well, I had to get up to let you in,” I reply lightly, trying to ignore the flutters in my stomach.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Ben wraps his arm around my waist and guides me back to the couch. Before I can say anything, he settles me onto the cushions and kneels in front of me. “How bad is the pain? Are you taking anything? What about other symptoms? Are you dizzy? Light-headed? Nauseous?”
His face is so close to mine, I can see the tiny little scar just above his left eyebrow and the flecks of bronze and gold in his eyes. Eyes that are regarding me with worry and some other emotion I can’t quite read.
“I’m okay.” My hand twitches toward my hair, which I’m imagining looks like a giant bird’s nest. Why didn’t I accept Ari’s offer to wash my hair for me?
“You’re not okay.” He leans even closer to inspect the bruise on my forehead, his fingers trailing across my skin feather-light. “You’re hurt, Thea. You have a concussion.” His jaw tightens as his gaze moves over my face. “I’m guessing you’re light-headed and your head is throbbing. Is your stomach upset, too?”
Wow. He got all that from just looking at me? “I look that bad, huh?”
“No.” Ben holds my gaze. “You look beautiful, as always. But you’re injured. And I’m worried that you’re here all alone. Why aren’t you still at Cash and Ari’s?”
My brain catches on the word beautiful, and it takes a moment for the rest to register. “Ari was rushing around taking care of me. But she needs to rest. I can take care of myself here.”
“Ah, Thea.” He brushes my hair behind my shoulder, another move I was not expecting. “Would you mind if I helped for a little while? I’d really like to.”
This doesn’t feel like friendly concern. Not the way his fingers trailed over my skin, or how his arm came around my waist, or how Ben is looking at me right now, like he’s desperate to take care of me.
Totally disconcerted, I blink at him. “Okay.”
A smile transforms his face, chasing away the lines of worry. “Okay. Good. I’m going to get these flowers put in something. Have you eaten? When’s the last time you had a painkiller? Do you need me to get anything for you?”
Did I somehow awaken a genie, and he’s granting my wish to have someone to take care of me?
“Um. I took something around ten, I think. And I had breakfast at Ari’s.”
“Alright.” Ben puts his hand on my knee, his thumb rubbing gently for a second. “Is it okay if I rummage around in your kitchen? Just for plates and silverware and food. I would have brought something over, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
Nonplussed, I bob my head at him, regretting the movement immediately when everything spins. I shut my eyes for a second, opening them to see Ben watching me with a pained expression. “I’m okay,” I assure him. “Nothing to worry about.”
He casts me a doubtful look, but heads for the kitchen, tossing back over his shoulder, “Stay there, Thea. Rest. I’ve got it.”
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around things when he returns, a tray heaped with food in his hands. As he places it on the coffee table, his features crease apologetically. “There wasn’t a lot to choose from. But I found enough to make a sandwich and some soup, crackers and cheese, plus a tomato and cucumber salad with vinaigrette.”
He hands me a glass of water and plucks two white pills from the tray. “Make sure you’re taking these, at least for the first few days. It’ll really help with the headaches.”
I take the pills wordlessly as Ben sits on the couch beside me. My brain feels rattled, but this time it’s not because of the concussion.
As I nibble on the sandwich and salad, he’s quiet, just looking around the room, his gaze lingering on the twin bookshelves flanking the TV. “Not reading must be rough,” he says quietly, casting me a sympathetic glance. “I bet the doctor told you not to read for a while.”
“Yeah. I mean, I want to get better, and I’m really thankful that all I have is a concussion. But I’m kind of addicted to reading. So it’s hard sitting around just doing nothing.”
“How long are you out of work?”
