“I still can’t believe you’re married,” Simon says with a grin. “My best friend and my sister, This is fucking awesome. Now you’re my family for real.”
Simon’s beam is like a staple gun to my heart. His expression right now is exactly why we didn’t want to tell Beck’s family. Watching people we love be thrilled for us while we, or I, know it won’t last—it hurts. I could just tell my brother the entire truth right now, but today has already been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for all of us. I’ll tell him later once Beck is home and settled and resting.
And once he’s good to go, I’ll be on my way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
BECK
I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.
It was a delivery truck, but all the same. My body feels like it’s five hundred pounds, and moving on my own is almost impossible. Thank god I have one hand mobile to do the basic things, but still, here I am, trying to get out of bed so I can take a piss, and twisting to get both feet on the floor is painful as hell. The sting is so bad I feel like I could puke.
“Fuck,” I growl out, and Calla is in my doorway in seconds.
“What are you doing?” she asks and rushes to me. She squats in front of me to move my legs, and it takes all my strength not to get aroused at the position she’s in. Sex or anything close should be the last thing on my mind, but this is Calla. Her body was made for me and mine for her.
“You shouldn’t be doing this on your own,” she says softly.
“I can do some things on my own.”
“Okay.” She stands. I try to do the same, but I sink back into the mattress once she backs up. “Show me.”
I let out a sigh and then take a deep breath, pushing off the bed with all my might. A sharp pain zips through my entire body, and I sit back down. Truth be told, I’m not even sure my ass even left the sheets. It sure felt like I jumped though.
“I told you,” Calla says, sitting next to me and hooking my good arm around her shoulders. “On the count of three, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“One, two, three!”
“Fuck, fuck. Fuck.” I let out a breath. I am indeed standing now. “Thank you.”
“Yep. Where are we headed?”
“The bathroom.”
“Alright.”
Without one single complaint—she hasn’t complained since I got home two days ago—Calla walks at a snail’s pace by my side. Once we reach the bathroom, she dips out from under my arm. “I’ll just be right outside the door, unless… you know, you’ll be a minute. I can grab your phone for you so you can text me. I don’t want to be weird and stand outside the door while you’re doing… that.”
I chuckle and then wince. “I’m not doing that. I just need to pee and then take a shower.”
“You can’t shower.”
“I can shower.”
She steps back into the bathroom and crosses her arms. I swear her eyes get brighter as she tilts her head. “No, that’s standing for too long and although your legs aren’t broken, your body has been through enough. You can take a bath.”
“I’m not taking a bath. I’m not a bath kind of guy.”
“You were that one night with me.” She looks away quickly, biting her bottom lip.
“Are you offering to take one with me? If so, then yeah, I’m a bath guy.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then no bath.”
