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“Calm your tits, Goldilocks. I’m not exactly jonesing to sleep with you either. Now eat. It’s been a long-ass weekend.”
We finished our meal in silence. I barely tasted it as my mind reeled.
I had to sleep next to Caleb? I didn’t share beds with people, ever. The only exception was family. Growing up, my little brother and I had shared a tiny-ass room and a single bed until we’d both been in the double digits. Then, we spent the next few years sharing a double bed in that same tiny-ass room. I was fifteen the first time I had my own bed, and seventeen when I had my own room. After so many years of not having my own space at night, I couldn’t relax if someone was in the same room as me, let alone in the same bed.
No way in hell was I sleeping next to Caleb. I’d cram myself on the too-small couch and deal with the soreness when I woke up.
When we were done, Caleb cleaned up our dishes, then hauled me out of the chair and toward the stairs.
My body protested every step as more muscles began to ache. I felt better now that I had food in my stomach, but my head was pounding and I was so weak I was shaking.
“Come on, Goldilocks.” He dragged me into a bedroom, then into a small bathroom. He propped me up against the counter. “Hold on. I’m going to be pissed if you fall over when I’m not looking.”
“You’re annoying.” I planted my hand on the counter and locked my arm. Hopefully that was enough to keep me upright.
“Kettle, meet teapot. Are you steady?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t fall. I’ll be right back.”
I studied the bathtub as he left the room. The sides seemed higher than usual. Was it a soaker tub? Getting in and out of it would be tricky. Maybe I could sit on the edge and swing my body in from there?
“Here.”
I jumped as Caleb appeared next to me.
“Careful.” He grabbed my arm as my hand slipped off the counter. “Let’s get these clothes off you. I’ve got clean ones you can wear.”
“Just leave them on the counter.”
“Sorry, can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you can’t shower alone in this state. I don’t have a chair or any rails, so I’m going to have to help you.”
“No fucking way.”
“It’s not my idea of a good time, either.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, his features tight. “Look, I get it. I know you don’t want my help. But I’m a nurse. This is part of my job.”
“I’d rather risk falling.”
“That would be convenient because all the blood would go down the drain. Thing is, I’m too tired to deal with the coroners and police if you die in my tub.”
“You’re going to give me a complex if you keep talking about me dying.”
“Just stating facts.” He stood in front of me. “Now, I’m going to make this as quick and painless as possible. We’ll get those clothes off you and you can put on my robe. I’ll get you into the shower and stay behind you to make sure you don’t fall. We’ll keep the robe on you so you have some privacy. You can wash yourself, just be careful with your arm. Don’t overuse it. And for the love of god, don’t put weight on your knee. There’s only so much I can do in a confined space if it buckles.”
I wanted to tell him no and I didn’t care about being clean, but I was too tired and sore to fight.
“When we’re done, we’ll get you dressed, get another dose of painkillers into you, and get your ass in bed.”
“I don’t want to do any of that,” I said sullenly.
“Neither do I, but here we are. Can you stand on your own long enough to get your clothes off?”
“I think so.”
