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“But you’ve—”
“And I can shower just fine alone.”
“Well, I’ll grab you a towel and be gone then,” she confirms.
“Thank you,” I tell her, knowing I sound ungrateful. It’s bad enough having my friends and Scarlet see me unable to do basic, everyday tasks, let alone random people I don’t even know.
When we reach the en suite, she walks past me and into the bathroom. “Oh, I have a waterproof boot bag in the car. I’ll go grab it quick.”
I shake my head, resting a crutch against the wall. Reaching behind my neck, I tug on my T-shirt, fighting it up my back and over my shoulders. “I was fine last night. I just kept it out of the spray,” I tell her, feeling myself sway as a flash of pain slashes across my ribs.
“Sit,” she mutters, her hands grabbing my raised arms and directing me to the edge of the bathtub.
For fuck’s sake.
She pulls my top the rest of the way off. “You have to be more careful than that.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, frustration getting the better of me.
I can’t stand this.
“You’re fine? I just watched you almost bear your weight. It was hard enough watching you get up two flights of stairs.” She eyes my ribs and winces. “You’re impossible.”
“He’s always been a little bit impossible.” We both turn at the sound of Scarlet’s voice.
She’s standing in the doorway, her lavender hair pinned atop her head in some kind of bun, her flyaways making it clear she’s been outside walking or sitting in a breeze.
She’s perfect.
“I was working from the café this morning, but I thought you might want to head out for a walk or something after you’re done here.”
My brows rise in surprise.
“He’s not stopped all day.”Shut the fuck up, Mia.“I recommended rest for this afternoon. He’s been—”
“I’d love a walk.”
Scarlet’s mouth twists up, as if she finds it amusing to watch Mia go up against me. “Did you bring the chair, Mia?” she asks her friend.
Mia nods. “He wouldn’t use it.”
“I am here,” I say, shaking my head.
The two women smile at one another. “Get home. You have work tonight, and I already stole your entire morning.”
They seem to communicate in that way only women know how to communicate without words. With a look.
“It’s fine,” Scarlet reassures her. “Can you leave the chair outside?”
“Yeah, of course.” I watch as Mia smirks, dropping my T-shirt beside the sink as she passes Scarlet.
I stay sitting on the edge of the bathtub as she leaves, my eyes too busy lingering on Scarlet. She’s wearing a floral print summer dress, and for the first time in seven long years, I let my gaze roam the length of her. With her hair pulled up I can see the full length of her neck, her skin sun-kissed and glowing despite the bruises covering it. Her body is as I remember it, the swell of her breasts and dip of her waist bottle necking to her hips. I let my eyes travel down her legs, smooth and long. God, she’s beautiful.
“Do you need anything before I head downstairs?”
I bring my gaze up, finding her watching me. When I don’t reply right away, I wonder if I missed more than what I caught her saying.
She bends to pick up my T-shirt. I use it as a chance to rearrange the completely inappropriate erection that’s growing in my shorts. “That’s…” She cringes, throwing it into the wash basket outside the door. “Sweaty.”
