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His gasp was audible, as was the expression of shock on his face, even though he quickly hid it. Shit. Why had I done that?
“My ankle hurts,” I admitted, dropping my hand. Fucking sparks fizzed through me, despite the constant ache in my foot. What was all that about? Maybe it was a side effect of the pain.
When I chanced a look at Elliot, he had his teeth clamped down on his lower lip, and his cheeks were flushed.
“Where does it hurt?” Elliot’s concern managed to override everything else, and I was grateful for it because I wasn’t prepared to face the flash of raw emotion I’d seen on my best friend’s face.
“It’s just my ankle, and it’ll be okay. The medic guy said it’s only a minor sprain, and it’ll heal quickly. I’ll be walking normally in a few days.”
Elliot raised a brow at me, and I didn’t blame him. Usually, I’d milk it—get as much sympathy as I could. Now, though, I didn’t feel like it for some reason.
“Hey, E?” My voice was so scratchy, even though I’d downed a pint of water.
His brows rose.
“You owe me dinner,” I told him.
“Do I?” There was silence between us for a minute, and then his expression cleared. “I do, you’re right.”
“Can we just have a takeaway here?” Fuck, the way I was craving time with my best friend like I never had before…it honestly scared me. What was happening? Why was I looking at Elliot in a strange new way when there was nothing more than friendship between us?
The accident was making me emotional or something. That had to be it.
“Yeah, okay.” His voice was soft. “What are you in the mood for? I’ll order whatever you want.”
“Uhhhh. Pide? The lamb one with the peppers? We haven’t had it for a while.”
He smiled at me. “I’ll order now, and I’ll get some sides.” Glancing towards my bedroom door, he frowned. “I’d better see if any of the others want anything. Levi’s got Asher staying over tonight, and I think Charlie’s in. Not sure about JJ.”
There must’ve been something in my expression that gave away my thoughts because he huffed out a quiet laugh. “I’m not inviting them to eat with us. I just don’t want anyone complaining when our order turns up and they don’t get to have any.”
Leaning my head back against the wall, I closed my eyes. “Okay.” I heard the door open and shut, but I kept my eyes closed until I heard it open again.
Elliot entered my room with two glasses full of what looked like Coke with a ridiculous amount of ice. He placed the glasses down on my desk and then took a seat at the end of the bed. “Ash and Levi ordered. Charlie’s already eaten, and JJ’s out.”
“Why are you sitting there?” I nudged his thigh with my uninjured foot. “Come up here.”
He rolled his eyes but did as I suggested. “You’re so bossy when you’re feeling sorry for yourself,” he informed me while stealing one of my pillows to shove behind his back.
“Me? Bossy?” I widened my eyes and let my jaw drop. “I’m injured. I might never be able to play again.”
A smile curved over his lips. “There’s the dramatics I’ve been expecting. You were far too blasé about your injury earlier. It was actually starting to worry me.”
“You were worried about me? Really?” What the fuck was I saying? Obviously, he’d been worried—he’d cut his date short to come and see me. Fuck,his date. “Wait. What happened with your date?”
Elliot’s gaze fell to his hands, and he studied them like they were the most interesting things he’d ever seen. “It wasn’t a date. I was…I went to watch the band in the studio. Maybe…” His hands twisted. “Maybe it was a date. I don’t know. I don’t have much experience with going on dates.”
His head rose and he faced me, his eyes blazing. “You’re my best friend, Ander. Of course I’m going to come when you’re hurt. Always. No question.”
The feeling that went through me was uncomfortable. There was warmth—thinking about his words, that he was there for me, and he’d been worried enough to leave his date and come and find me. Then there was a weird sick feeling, thinking about the fact that he was on a date. The way I was reacting—it was clear to me that I’d been selfish, monopolising his time and taking it for granted that he’d always be there for me.
“I’m the worst fucking friend ever,” I whispered. I hadn’t even meant to say it, but now it was out there. Screwing my eyes shut, I pretended that I hadn’t said it.
“Ander.” Elliot’s tone was cautious. “How are you the worst friend? Because you cut my maybe-date short? There’ll be other dates. You didn’t ruin anything for me.”
Other dates.
The sick feeling was intensifying.
