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I had a few text notifications but ignored them as I opened a new thread. As much as I wanted to pretend I wasn’t helpless and hurt in his bed, he was right. I’d just end up falling, and with my luck, I’d break something.
Gray: you need to work on your bedside manner
Was he home? I patted the other side of the bed. The sheets were cold.
My phone pinged.
Asshat: and you need to work on your normal manner
The door swung open. Bright light from the hallway spilled into the room.
I winced and turned my face away.
“Head still hurt?” He came into the room and knelt next to the bed.
“Like a bitch. But my bladder is the real concern.”
“I thought it might be. What’s your pain level at?”
“Higher than last night.”
“That’s to be expected. Pain is always worse when you wake up. The next few days are going to be the worst of it. I’ll help you sit up, then we’ll get you standing the same way we did in the car and after your shower.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, hating that I couldn’t even sit up on my own.
Humiliation and shame flowed through me in equal parts as Caleb helped me out of bed.
“Holy fuck,” I groaned as pain sizzled through what felt like every nerve in my body.
He held onto my waist. “Just take small steps and we’ll get you there. I didn’t want to wake you to give you your pain meds, but another dose will help.”
I barely felt his hands or his strong presence behind me as I focused on not pissing all over his floor. He brought me into his bathroom and positioned me in front of the toilet.
“I’m just going to stand here to make sure you don’t fall.” His hands brushed my hips but didn’t hold on.
Thank fuck I only needed one hand to pull my dick out. I would have rather wet myself like a toddler than have him help me take a leak.
“Do you need to sit?” he asked, his voice neutral.
“No.” I tucked myself away. I didn’t care what I had to do, I wasnotdoingthatin front of my stepbrother.
He got me in front of the sink and waited as I washed my hands. When they were dry, he handed me a cup of water and a pill. I took it and gulped down the water.
“Here.” He peeled back the wrapping on a toothbrush.
I had to let him put the toothpaste on it, but the sensation of a clean mouth was worth it.
“Do you want to get back in bed, or spend some time downstairs?”
“I don’t know.” My stomach growled.
“I was about to make something to eat. How about you come down for a bit. Then you can see how you feel after you’ve eaten and the meds have time to kick in?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Now that I was up and moving, the pain had settled into a steady ache rather than constant, nerve-rattling bolts. Or maybe that was the meds, who the fuck knew.
Caleb helped me to the stairs, coaching me with soft words and gentle touches. His niceness and the professional way he treated me should have been soothing and help calm the anger simmering inside me at the entire situation. It didn’t.
