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I could feel him panting as my hands began their search. I massaged every muscle in his torso to check for any signs of strain or tearing. I rubbed each ab individually and tried to ignore the heat burning between my legs. I smoothed my hands over to his sides and felt the padding of muscles that flexed underneath my touch. I smoothed my fingertips up the front of his body, poking away at his godly chest as I bit back a sigh.
But then, something odd happened.
I went to remove my hands to check his shoulders and he stopped my movements.
His hands wrapped around my wrists and held them steadily to his chest. My hands were splayed along his skin, feeling the heat of his body pressing against me. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying to control the puckering of my nipples. This wasn’t appropriate. I had to find a way to get him to let go of me. My fingertips curled into his skin, trying to prompt him into releasing me.
But instead, he tightened his grasp.
“Mr. Lowell, I have to check your shoulders.”
There were several beats of silence before his hands relinquished my wrists.
I made quick work of checking his shoulders before I was satisfied he hadn’t hurt himself further. I scooted out from behind him and watched him lay down, battling between reaching out to help him and running out of the room. My hands were buzzing with electricity as I stood there, watching the way his strong body moved fluidly underneath the covers.
“You can go now,” Hayden said.
I cleared my throat, pulling myself out of my trance. I moved his wheelchair beside his bed and made sure the brakes were fully locked before I left. I reached for the doorknob and took one last look at him, watching as he shifted over to his side and blocked me out again.
Yet my heart was still pounding against my chest.
“Goodnight,” I said.
And I could’ve sworn as I shut the door I heard him respond.
Chapter Eight
Grace
Days passed since the incident in his room and things were changing again. But instead of things becoming more hostile, things became colder. More distant. Nothing was said about that night, but nothing was really said about anything. He no longer had an opinion on his grocery list or the types of toiletries he needed from the drug store. He no longer cared to communicate with me about when he was headed to the bathroom or taking a shower. He was alienating me, and I wasn’t sure why.
I was essentially being paid to babysit.
I sat there in the mornings with my cup of coffee in hand. He had the most beautiful view of the city from his breakfast nook. The skyline would light up with the morning sun as it rose high in the sky and it would cast a wonderfully warm glow along my skin. It would paint my coffee in all sorts of colors and help to wake me up, and I would smile as my skin was caressed with its warmth.
Usually, Hayden would roll in on his wheelchair and make himself a cup of coffee. Then he would roll up to the edge of the breakfast nook with a newspaper in his lap. He’d fluff it out and be obnoxious with its noise, like he was announcing the fact that he was there specifically to ignore me and throw up a blatant wall.
But one morning, he didn’t roll up to the breakfast nook. He didn’t come to the table with his coffee and his newspaper and his awkward ‘don’t look at me but know I’m here’ attitude. One morning, he wheeled in and got his coffee, then left. Then another morning, he wheeled in and got his coffee and went back to his room.
Then one morning, he didn’t even wheel in for his c
offee.
I decided to pour him a cup and go set it on his nightstand. I assumed he was sleeping. Probably worn out from his physical therapy from the other day. I was working on him with his hip as well as his shoulder, because the stronger his hip could be for surgery the better off his recuperation would be with time. He would sweat through his workouts and remove his shirts and I would have to do everything in my power to not look at him.
But I had to admit, him not coming out for coffee made me worried.
I poured a simple mug of the stuff and headed for his room. The door was closed and I couldn’t hear any noise, so I knocked on the door lightly. No sound emanated from the room and it made me worried. If Hayden was sleeping, I would’ve heard the sounds of his soft snoring.
It had become a soothing sound to me the longer I stayed in his home.
But instead, there was nothing. No sounds of his snores or the shower running or the sink faucet on. There was no grunting or shuffling of clothes or struggling with his wheelchair. I furrowed my brow and reached for the doorknob, then turned it lightly. I swung the door open as my heart slammed against my chest, but what I saw wasn’t what I expected to see.
Hayden was just sitting there. Staring out the window of his bedroom.
“Good morning, Mr. Lowell.”
Silence.
