“I didn’t realize you cared that much,” I whispered as he drew slow, deliberate circles on my arm.
“Honestly, me either,” he said.
“Does this mean,” I gulped, nervous about getting the words out. “Does this mean you don’t think it’s such a bad idea if we start something?”
I felt his warm torso go up and down as he sighed deeply. “At this point, I don’t really care if it’s a bad idea or not.” He tilted his head and grabbed my chin, tipping it to the side, so I was forced to look at him. “There’s no way I can stay away from you now.”
He leaned in slowly. My heart pounded as he captured my lips with his. The kiss was slow and sweet, unlike the urgency and the need of last night. His tongue slipped into my mouth and softly flicked against my own. Every coherent thought left my brain as he continued to kiss me. After a few long minutes, he released my mouth and planted a kiss on my forehead before resuming staring down at me.
“I’m happy I’m here,” I whispered.
He grabbed the back of my neck and stroked my cheek with his thumb before kissing my mouth again. “Me too.”
* * *
We endedup talking through the rest of the movie. We discussed my career and how I liked it, but sometimes I wasn’t sure what my next move was going to be. He told me that he wasn’t sure what the future held either but that he was excited about the freedom of retirement. He talked about his parents. What it was like to grow up in this town with them.
By the time the credits were rolling, I feared I had fallen head over heels for this guy. Frankie was right. I was a serial monogamist, and Giles was evidently my next victim. I only hoped he was feeling the same way.
“We should probably get you to bed,” he finally said. “It’s been a long day.”
I laughed. “Understatement of the year. Can I use your shower first? Now that I’ve been fed and I’m rested, I’m realizing how disgusting I feel.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Shit, I should have asked you earlier.”
“No, no. It’s fine. Can you hand me my crutches?”
“I could just carry you,” he offered.
“No way, I’m too heavy.”
He side-eyed me. “Please, Mattie. I can carry you.”
“I don’t kno—” Before I could get the words out, Giles had stood from the couch and placed one arm underneath my legs and the other on my lower back.
“Grab on.”
I shrieked with laughter and clutched the back of his neck as he lifted me off the couch with ease.
“Giles put me down.”
He smirked. “We’re already almost there,” he said as he walked me past the entryway and up the first few stairs.
I was about to object again when I noticed pictures lining his staircase. Squinting, I took them all in. There were many of Giles at various ages in life. One was him as a preteen standing with a man and a woman.
“Are those your parents?”
He glanced at the photo I was looking at. “Yep. That was at one of my first competitions.”
“Did you win?”
“I did. My dad was so excited he took the entire family out to dinner to celebrate.” He smiled at the memory, and I squeezed his neck.
At the top of the stairs, he went straight to the vintage-tiled bathroom. He set me down on my good leg and continued to help support my weight by holding me around my waist. I limped gingerly forward and grabbed the shower wall. I lowered myself to a seated position on the bathtub ledge.
“Can you help me get my cast wrapped?”
“Right, yes.” Giles raced downstairs to grab the cast cover the doctor gave me at the hospital. When he returned, he also had cling wrap and the black bag that Bev had packed for me.
