“It’s not your fault,” I assured him. “I’m not used to people being there, so when you spoke, I got a little startled.”
He squinted at me, his brown eyes showing so much concern it made me slightly uncomfortable. “Matt, I—”
The timer for the fish dinged, and we both jumped. I pulled away from Charlie, rushed back to the stove, and turned the burner off. My heart thumped hard as I remembered the expression on his face, the touch of his hand. Tender. Caring. I wanted to know what he was going to say, but the thought of him actually finishing the sentence scared me so much my hands were shaking.
“Dinner should be done in a minute,” I informed him, not yet able to turn around. “If you want to wash up, the bathroom is down the hall on the left. There are clean towels in the cabinet, but…. Could you make sure you hang it over the faucet when you’re done?”
“Yeah, okay.” His voice told me everything wasn’t okay, but that he wouldn’t push me on it.
He wheeled himself slowly down the corridor. I let my head drop against the cabinet door with athunk. So many emotions, so many thoughts of what could go wrong, and me chastising myself for my decisions. I had to keep in mind this was what I wanted, because right now, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to survive having him in the house and not fantasizing about him.
“Matt?” he called out from the bathroom.
I turned toward his voice. “Yeah?”
“Just so you know, this conversation isn’t over.”
I smiled to myself, even as I banged my head against the cabinet again, because of course he wasn’t going to let it go. And a little sliver of hope inside me was grateful, because I honestly hoped he wouldn’t.
