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Suddenly I realized I was transferring my need to care for a man to him. I had to end my attachment fantasy and treat him like the injured person he was, not some love interest for my own selfish needs. But there was a problem. A very big and ridiculous problem. I already had a crush on him. A crush on an incapacitated man who could not communicate or move.Get a fucking grip, dude!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Hayes
The room was quite dark. Tiny vertical lines of light ran up and down the walls. The lines had a glow of bluish-gray softness that reminded me of moonlight. But it appeared that I was indoors so how was the light shining through the walls?
Fear gripped me when I realized I couldn’t sit up. I felt dizzy and nauseous. “Hello?” I said softly.
My throat was sore like I had been screaming or yelling. The soreness reminded me of when I’d rooted for a college team at a stadium, joining the yelling and chanting, but for some reason I couldn’t recall where or what team. I concentrated as hard as I could and still couldn’t remember what I’d been doing before now. Where was I and how had I arrived here?
I wiggled my fingers and toes. Relief washed over me. They worked. Slowly I lifted my hands from my sides and touched my head. Pain throbbed through my skull, making me sick to my stomach.
“Help!”I yelled, thrashing around in hysteria.“Help me!”Suddenly someone appeared from below me and tried to hold my hands away from my face. “Stop. Stop,” I protested. “Get off of me. Who are you? Where am I?”
He fought to secure my flailing arms. “Shhh,” he soothed. “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.” He waited to see if I calmed down before letting go of my arms.
I could move my limbs but each time I tried to lift myself up my head throbbed and shut me down instantly.
“I’m Bo and I’m here to help you. You’re in my house. I found you by the river yesterday after the storm.”
I stared at the young man holding my hand. Even in the dimly lit room he was handsome. I wasn’t sure of his age but he had to be in his early twenties. He was bare chested and wearing a pair of boxers. Loose and wavy, bright-blond hair framed a face that was a cross between an angel’s and a beach bum’s. I recalled men who paid hundreds of dollars to get his shade of blond hair, but for the life of me couldn’t name a single one of them. I glanced at our joined hands and he quickly removed his.
“Your house? Where’s that?” I asked, unsure why I needed to know considering I couldn’t recall where I lived. “What storm?”
He stood and gathered two candles and lit them, setting one on a cheap looking table and one on the floor near us. The candlelight verified that he was striking. There simply was no other way to describe the guy. Tall and blond with a lean and muscled torso similar to a swimmer’s body. His chest and shoulders were broad and exaggerated his V-shape and lean hips. Long smooth lightly tanned legs supported the entire vision. He had to be a model because he looked exactly like every Abercrombie and Fitch poster I’d ever seen.
He caught me appraising him and modestly looked away. “You’re on Parris Island,” he said.
“Where is that?” I asked, dread knocking on my brain. I didn’t know what state I was in or where I lived. “Do you know me?” I asked, fearing his answer. I needed an anchor to something and right now this hunk was my only tether to reality.
“No, I’ve never met you before, but surely you must live somewhere near here,” he said. “You ended up here with half your body on my property and the other half in the river.” He pointed to my head. “You showed up with that too.”
I instinctively moved my hand to the lump, pulling away to check if there was blood on my finger. “It hurts.”
“I’m sure it does,” he stated. “I’ve kept ice on it while you were . . . were . . . well, I’m not sure what you were. Asleep or unconscious.”
“And you’re sure you don’t know me?” I asked. “Are we friends or do you know any of my friends?” He shook his head with each of my inquiries and that scared me.
“I’m sorry. Like I said, you just appeared on my property after the storm,” he said in a kind voice. He seemed to care about me and yet he stated he didn’t know me. Even though I was frightened by my situation and confused by him, I felt safe. None of my emotions made sense.
“Can you lift me up so I can see better?” I asked, holding my arms out to him. I pulled my knees closer and my covering fell away, exposing my cock. He quickly covered me while looking away. He was either polite or so straight the view freaked him out.
He leaned over me and placed his hands in my armpits. Gently and with ease, he lifted me to a sitting position. He was so strong that he was able to prop me against the headboard in one swift motion as if I weighed the same as a bag of popcorn. I’d gripped his huge biceps when he lifted me, shocked by his strength. Whoever he was, he was physically ripped and easy on the eyes, but I had more serious issues than crushing on this guy. I couldn’t remember a single thing about who I was but I definitely knew I was attracted to men.
Once sitting upright, the room swirled around me and I forced my eyes shut, feeling like I needed to throw up.
“Are you okay?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Our legs touched but even that enjoyable sensation was overwhelmed by the vertigo I was experiencing. “Here, put your hands around my neck and we’re going to try to scoot lower until you can rest your head on the pillows.”
I did as he said and leaned my face into his neck while he hugged me and gently lifted me lower on the bed. He smelled like soap and spicy deodorant. He tapped my arm to release him and I hated the suggestion immediately, but after I did he pulled back and smiled.
“How’s that?” he asked, adjusting the towel again. “Are you hungry?”
I suddenly felt afraid and lost. I had no idea how I got there and the reality of my situation scared me senseless. “I don’t know my name,” I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes. “I can’t . . . I . . . don’t recognize where we are.”
I felt the tears fall down my cheeks and he seemed surprised by them. He first reached for the towel covering my cock, quickly realizing that wasn’t a good idea, before using his bare hands to wipe my face. The action was so intimate I began to weep.
“Everything will be okay. I promise you you’re safe with me and we’ll figure this out together,” he soothed. “You’re frightened and I understand that, but how about you concentrate on feeling better and then I can help you find your people.”
