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“Look, guys, I’m okay. I appreciate everything, I really do, but I just want to sit down to relax and have you guys talk about something other than the accident or what you can get me.”
* * *
Brian and Sashastayed two more days before heading home. I could tell my brother was hesitant to leave me, but Colby assured him I was in good hands.
My brother and I disagreed somewhat about letting my mom at least know about my accident, however as fate would have it, she’d left on the day I’d come home from the hospital to visit her sister in Toronto, which meant I had at least another week’s reprieve. I certainly didn’t want to ruin her visit or, more to the point, take a chance that she’d be on the next flight out here where she’d make me crazy.
My call with the HR lady about my internship went as expected. She sounded more than sympathetic about my accident, yet it was clear the job wasn’t one which could wait nor would it be appropriate for someone who was injured.
It was tough news to swallow, but taking a page from Nurse Charlotte, I called her colleague and started to make some plans for volunteering at the Children’s Hospital. In addition to helping me not feel sorry for myself and giving me a way to spend my summer once I was mobile again, it gave me something meaningful to look forward to.
Colby chose to work from home the entire first week of my convalescence, which made me feel guilty, but he refused to discuss it. Instead, he ensured I took my medications and stayed off my feet. He also drove me to my follow-up appointments, including the casting of my ankle.
We spent hours watching movies and talking, however the most interesting thing by far during the week was the fact that every night when I let the drugs take over, I’d feel him climb into bed, snuggling close to me.
The first night, I thought I’d dreamt it. The second one, I thought perhaps it was the drugs. But by the third night, I realized I did, in fact, have a hot male body next to me in the middle of the night. He didn’t speak of it, and I didn’t have the heart to bring it up for fear of him putting a stop to it. It was our own personal Don’t ask, don’t tell arrangement which was pretty much negating any thoughts of getting over him on a nightly basis.
By day seven I’d grown tired of sponge bathing myself and absolutely needed to wash my hair. Dry shampoo could only go so far. I went to search in Colby’s kitchen for plastic bags to put over both my ankle and wrist while he’d gone out for groceries. I’d settled on a couple of trash bags and had found some rubber bands to go with them when he came through the front door, grocery bags in hand.
“What are you doing with those?”
“Attempting to take a real shower. If I don’t wash my hair, I’m going to go crazy.”
He set down the groceries on the counter. “Give me a few minutes to put the frozen stuff away, and I’ll help you.”
Had he just suggested he help me? In the shower? Where I’d be naked? “Come again?”
“You can put on a swimsuit, and I’ll do the same. That way I can wash your hair. Tell me when you’re ready.”
Right: in swimsuits. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
He tossed me the same annoyed look as all the other times I’d posed that particular question this week. “Stop asking, and go get your butt changed.”
“Okie dokie.”
I was far too excited to have a clean head of hair to feel self-conscious about letting him wash it for me. It took me longer than I’d anticipated to both put on my two-piece and affix plastic bags around my casts. Thankfully, I’d at least shaved yesterday. By the time I opened the door to the bedroom, he was already changed into swim trunks and waiting on me.
Shit, he looked really hot. I would not gape at his chest, I would not stare at his package which his swim trunks didn’t hide as well as they probably should, and under no circumstances would I check out his amazing ass. Nope, I kept my eyes on his face, which ended up being a miscalculation on my part because when he flashed his dimples, I felt my nipples harden in response.
“I’m going to start the water before I freeze,” I mumbled, noting his gaze had zeroed in on the evidence of my desire and needing to blame it on something else.
His shower was huge. Plenty of room for two people, with its dual showerheads and water streaming from bars on the sides, too. Yet the moment the glass door shut, the space seemed to close in. The hot steam didn’t help keep my mind from wandering to an X-rated version of this scenario. Damn. I wondered if he’d notice if I turned the water on ice cold in order to calm my raging libido.
“These bottles are yours?” he asked, holding up my shampoo and conditioner.
I glanced at what he held in his hand, letting the warm water start to get my hair wet. “Yes.”
Considering he was sex on legs, I figured the best course of action was to turn around and face away from him. I nearly jumped when his fingers touched my head. Holding my face soap in front of me, I was unable to do anything except stand there, feeling the palpable charge in the enclosed space around us.
“Step back a little out of the water. You okay?”
“Uh-huh.” I expelled a heavy breath when he started to massage my scalp.
“The pressure good?” he rasped.
“It feels amazing.” The husky way my response had come out didn’t sound like I was talking about the hair wash. In fact, it felt so good that my face soap slipped from my relaxed hand. I bent over to retrieve it without a thought.
“Fuck. What are you doing?” he snapped.
