Page 57 of Nuts

He hugged me. “I don’t give a fuck what your leg looks like. I really don’t.”

I closed my eyes. “Thank you.”

He hadn’t seen it yet, but it felt good to hear him say it.

I opened my eyes and gazed down at his foot. With one shoe on and one off, he held me in his arms. His interesting gait now made perfect sense.

I liked it that he was a lawnmower victim.

“I’ll uhhm.” I broke our embrace. “I’ll be right back.”

He gave me a look of slight concern. “Okay.”

I walked to my room, rifled through the closet, and eventually found a pair of jean shorts. After a slight mental struggle, I put them on, paused, and then took a deep breath.

He either meant what he said, or he didn’t. There was only one way to find out.

I stepped into the hallway, spread my arms wide, and cocked my hip. “Ta-dah!”

I felt vulnerable.

The feeling only lasted until he spoke.

“New rule in this house.” He looked me up and down. “If we’re eating dinner together, you’re only allowed to wear shorts. No more jeans.”

A lump shot into my throat. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious.”

I took a step toward him. “You want me to wear shorts?”

His gaze fell to my waist. “I’m demanding it.”

“I’ll do it if.” My eyes welled with tears. “I’ll do it if you’ll do it.”

He clenched his fist.

I fought to conceal the emotion that boiled within me. As I bit against my quivering lip, I clenched my fist and walked to where he stood.

He pressed his fist to mine.

“Be back in a minute,” he said.

In no time, he returned. Wearing a tee shirt, cut-off sweat shorts, and no shoes, he sauntered down the hallway.

“If you tell any of the fellas about this, you’ll be huntin’ for a new place to stay.”

“I won’t say a word,” I assured him.

He looked me over, and then motioned toward the table. “Better eat.”

I nodded in agreement, and sat down.

“It doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

“What? That the food got kinda cold?”

“No,” I said. “My leg.”