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Sebastian looks between Sam and me. “Friends share beds?”
I start to answer, but Sam beats me to it. “Don’t act like you and Murphy haven’t slept in the same bed.”
“Amelia’s hotter than Murphy.” Bash points at me and then at the bag of pills and medical supplies Daniel left earlier.
“Aww. I really feel the love, Sebastian,” I mock, then grab the bag. “Now, let’s get the world’s worst patient upstairs.”
Sam’s eyes dance between Bash and me as he shakes his head. “You know, people were here, pledging their loyalty and respect to me all day, right?”
I force Sam’s other arm over my shoulder, then answer. “I don’t see any of them volunteering to give you a sponge bath, Sam. So unless you want me to call Dean back to help with that, listen to your brother.”
* * *
My threat worked.
Well, it kinda worked.
Sam let Bash help him up the stairs. He could have slept in his father’s room on the first floor, but he refused. So instead, I got to watch this man with staples in his back take the steps one at a time, trying to not lean on Bash as much as possible.
Why are men so stubborn?
I really don’t think it’s only this one.
Apparently, Dean had stopped by Sam’s apartment earlier today and packed him a bag. I didn’t actually give him a sponge bath, but I did have to clean and redress his incision. Nursing is not for me. Staples in skin are not for the faint of heart.
Ha. Faint of heart.
That’s not something I’ve ever considered as a description for myself before.
But it fits tonight.
Once Bash turns in for the night, and I’ve got Sam comfortable and a little doped up on pain pills, I hop in the shower, knowing I have to be at the shop in five hours to get everything going for the day. I stole one of Sam’s t-shirts from his bag to slip into after my shower. The worn cotton sits softly on my bare skin. And I do mean bare. It’s not like I even have an extra pair of panties with me.
This certainly isn’t how I imagined this weekend going.
I sort of expected to end up panty-less at some point, but not like this.
When I walk back into the bedroom, Sam is asleep on top of the blanket in black boxer briefs, and I’m taken aback all over again at the burns covering so much of his body. The strength it must have taken to do what he did today is unimaginable to me.
I pad over to the bed and pull the blanket up over him before turning off the light and getting in myself. Once the alarm on my phone is set, and I’ve sent a quick text confirming with Marco that he’ll be driving me to Sweet Temptations in a few hours, I settle in next to Sam, lying on my side to face him but making sure not to touch him.
Sam’s cobalt blue eyes open, and his hand slides up my hip. “We need to talk, Snow.” His tired voice pulls at my heart.
I move my head next to his shoulder. Not on it but close enough to be engulfed by his body heat. “Not tonight. Sleep, Sam. Your body needs to heal, and it needs sleep for that. We can talk tomorrow when I get back.”
Sam turns his head and kisses my hair. “Tomorrow.”
As I lie here next to this man, talking about what we did wrong doesn’t seem all that important anymore.
He’s alive.
He’s next to me.
And I’m pretty sure he’s mine.
