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He did. Just not in the same way I loved him. Not in the way I wished for.
This morning, he was back to his usual self. If anything, he seemed grumpier than normal. The tension between him, Jamie, and Ryan was obvious even for a guy with stitches and a banging headache. Jamie and Ryan were usually pretty laid-back, so it made me wonder what I was missing.
As I carefully pulled on a long-sleeve T-shirt, I thought back to last night, trying to recall what happened before the accident.
All I remembered was being at Shirley’s, eating with the team. Snagging the sweatpants, I gently pulled them over my wrapped ankle as I balanced precariously on my uninjured one. A brief flash of me standing out on the sidewalk as Max hugged me fired through my head, and I toppled over.
Cursing, I let go of the pants, slamming my hand into the wall to try and catch myself before I went down.
The bathroom door burst open, light from outside filtering in as a shadow moved toward me.
Automatically, I put my injured foot down, yelping beneath my breath when it protested against any weight.
“Goddammit, Wes,” Max practically growled, scooping me up bridal style like it wasn’t hard at all. “I told you to let me help you.”
He plopped down on the toilet with me in his lap.
“I don’t need help,” I objected, planting my good foot on the floor so I could stand.
“Don’t even think about it, brat,” he spat, arms locking around my waist.
I turned to glare, and our noses almost collided. Eyes widening, I drew back, whatever I was going to say dying instantly on my lips.
With one arm locked around my waist, he leaned down to snatch up the sweats dangling on the tip of my foot.
“You have two choices,” he told me, intense onyx gaze colliding with mine. “You can let me help you, or you can sit here in my lap in your underwear until you change your mind.”
My mouth opened. Closed.
Dropping my eyes, I stared at how I was in fact sitting in his lap in my boxer briefs. My cheeks burned as I looked at my bare legs against his jean-clad ones, and the second I fidgeted, I felt the muscles in his legs tense.
“What’s it gonna be?” His voice was brusque, his breath brushing over my cheek.
I glanced beyond our touching bodies to where he sat and smirked. “You’re sitting on the toilet. The toilet with no lid.”
The black brow with the silver hoop arched. “The seating in here is limited.”
“I could reach around and flush it. Wonder if you’d still sit there with a wet ass.”
His tongue slid over his front teeth. “Try me.”
My stomach fluttered, and well, I’d had enough. This time with him for the last twenty-four hours was going to set me back immeasurably.
Like you were making any progress anyway.
I was! I definitely was.
Liar.
“Wes.”
I jolted. The soft incantation of my name on his lips had me practically spilling onto the floor all over again. My whole body spasmed as though it could lock up and somehow prevent the fall.
It couldn’t.
But Max could. He did.
Both arms locked around me, and he stood in a single fluid movement.
