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“I know. Sorry. How is the head?”
“Still attached to my shoulders,” he said.
Though it hurt like hell to move, let alone think, getting a clean bill of health other than a concussion, eight stitches in his temple and bruised ribs had helped a lot to soften the pain.
No more stressing he had some more damage going on there. Though with any head injury you never knew and he’d been knocked in the noggin one too many times in his opinion.
“Nice shoulders, too,” she said. “Come sit on the couch.”
“Shower,” he said. “Then I need food.”
“I was going to get food going, but I can’t do that if you’re in the shower.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I don’t want you in there by yourself. What if you get lightheaded or something and start to fall down?”
“Jesus,” he said. “Megan, you couldn’t catch me if you wanted to.”
She turned and put her hands on her hips. “I’m stronger than you think.”
“Yeah, I know. But not that strong.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m trying not to hover. I know your mother did it to you. Raina would be too. I’d think I was the lesser of the people you’d have to deal with.”
“I want you here,” he said honestly. “I just don’t need to be babied.”
“I’m not going to do that. But do this for me. If you need to take a shower, will you let me stay in the bathroom with you? This way if you need to sit or something I can at least guide you against the wall so you slump down rather than falling and cracking your head on the counter?”
“Sounds reasonable enough,” he said.
“Yay,” she said, pretending to clap her hands. “I’ll try not to leer too much. Don’t want you to get all self-conscious or anything.”
“Leer all you want,” he said. “Just don’t touch. It’s sad, but I’m not sure I could do much about it and I’m pretty sure my dick would argue otherwise. I’d rather not go to bed with another ache in my body.”
“Awwww,” she said. “I’d take care of that for you anyway. Just like I offered to do it the first night we were in my apartment.”
He shook his head at her, but even that hurt, and then turned to go to his bedroom and get a change of clothes. “What are you doing?” he asked when she rushed in front of him.
“Getting your stuff. You want to be comfy. I’ll get you sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. Go turn the shower on.”
There was no use arguing with her. It was what he’d grab to wear anyway.
He had the water going and was taking his shirt off when Megan came in and helped him. He wanted to tell her he had it, but she was only being helpful.
Once he was undressed he got under the water, Megan sitting on the closed toilet seat playing on her phone while he cleaned up as best as he could without getting his stitches too wet. But he had to wash his hair. He wanted every part of the hospital off of him.
“You doing okay?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Not much longer.”
“Good,” she said. “It’s hot in here. Not sure how you can shower with the water so hot.”
“It kills things.”
“And makes the muscles swell up after a really hard workout. Never again. I won’t use that much hot water as long as I live.”
He grinned remembering that now. Funny how he could smile at a time like this.
