For a moment, I forgot everything.
Not the accident.
Not the amnesia.
Only the rules I had built around touch.
My body recognized him before restraint returned.
Heat gathered low and immediate.
I lay still, staring at the ceiling, acutely aware that I had not awakened beside him this way in weeks.
Noah breathed against my neck.
His fingers shifted over my skin.
My arousal became impossible to ignore.
I closed my eyes.
Wanting him was not wrong.
Doing anything with that want while he slept would be.
I carefully lifted his hand from beneath my shirt and placed it over the blanket. His brow tightened, but he did not wake.
His leg was harder.
I slid my palm beneath his knee and moved it slowly from mine, protecting the healing hip.
Noah made a small sound and turned toward my pillow.
I escaped the bed.
The cold floor helped.
Not enough.
In the bathroom, I locked the door out of habit, then unlocked it because Noah might need me.
Steam filled the shower.
I stood beneath the water and tried to think about the day.
Orthopedic imaging.
Brace removal, if the bone had healed enough.
Outpatient rehabilitation assessment.
Neurology with Dr. Whitcomb.
Financial discussion.
Insurance.
None of it changed the state of my body.
