“I’ve had a few breaks myself.” He grabbed my leg and started to place the plastic wrap around the cast. “This will help keep the seal completely waterproof underneath the cover.”
Thanks,” I murmured, distracted by his hands brushing my calf as he delicately wrapped the cast.
When he was done, he stood up and took a step back. He crossed his arms and looked from the shower, to me, to back to the shower again.
“I can shower by myself,” I said, horrified at the idea of him setting me in there naked.
He scratched his head. "Probably easier if you take a bath."
He pulled a lever by the spout and turned the handle. Water spewed out of the faucet and started to collect in the basin.
"Sure, you don't need help?" he asked, his lips forming a playful smirk.
I groaned. Looking like a geriatric patient who needed rehab assistance was not going to up my sex appeal.
“What?” He looked confused by my displeasure.
“Nothing, just please leave me to wallow in my self-pity.”
He laughed. “You’re so dramatic, Florida.”
I shooed him out of the room. Delicately, I peeled my sweatpants away from my cast and off my legs. When I finally lowered myself into the water, I exhaled deeply. It felt amazing, to say the least.
I inspected Giles’s shampoo and soap collection. I took a sniff of one of them and smiled. Yep, that was him. I finished washing up as fast as I could from a seated position before opening the drain and grabbing a towel.
“Do you need help?” Muffled words from behind the closed door.
“Have you been standing there this whole time?”
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t slip and fall.”
I rolled my eyes, but a smile formed on my lips. “I’m fine, and I do not need any help.”
Unzipping the black bag, I found my comfiest flannel pajama pants and slid them on along with one of my oversized T-shirts. I hopped slowly over to the door and unlocked it to find Giles leaning against the hallway wall. He sprung off it when he saw me.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Much.” Suddenly I felt shy again. “Um, so I’m pretty tired.”
“Right. Right. Let’s go to bed.”
“Can you help me back down to the couch?”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re obviously not sleeping on the couch. You can sleep in my bed.”
“I couldn’t put you out like that. Please, I’ll take the couch.”
He grinned and looked at me like I had amused him. “I wasn’t really planning to sleep on the couch.”
“Right, duh. I just didn’t want to assume anything,” I said hurriedly.
“Is that alright with you?” He took a step toward me and grabbed my waist.
“That’s fine-totally fine.”
He chuckled and helped me to the door to the left of the stairs. He supported most of my weight.
His bedroom had the same wood floor as the rest of the house but was covered in a plush gray rug. The bed was surrounded by a simple black iron headboard, and there were several photographs of snow-covered mountain peaks hanging around the room.
