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That I hurt my leg and I need to stay off it for a little while, but my roommate is a hot nurse/babysitter. Now my mother wants to meet you.
Claire laughed. “Taking care of you takes a hell of a lot more patience than when I babysat triplets as a teenager.”
Damn. And here I thought you were enjoying my silent company.
Something flickered in her expression. Her gaze lingered on the phone screen for a beat, then she lifted her eyes to his. In her eyes and in her tone, sincerity shone through. “More than you know, Graham. Even though you piss me off, I’m happy you’re still here to sit beside me.”
Her chin trembled, the movement so slight he would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely. Without thinking, he reached over and took her hand.
She let him, and his brain immediately screamed,What are you doing?And just as quickly he justified his reaction.Easy. It just felt like the right thing to do. Comforting or some shit.
From her place at the foot of the bed, Gertrude whined her disapproval. Graham tipped the left side of his lips up, which was as much of a smile as he could muster without pain.
Claire ignored her.
Graham ran his free hand through his hair and wrinkled his nose. He grabbed his phone again and tapped out a text with one hand, for once thankful for predictive text.
Graham: I hate to ask another favor, but...
She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t pull her hand away. “If this has to do with sex, I swear...”
He shook his head.
Would you help me wash my hair? I’ve been able to do a decent job keeping clean otherwise, but that part’s not easy with my current situation.
Her eyes flicked to his head and back down. “Sure. Now?”
It felt pretty greasy, and he’d sit here and think about it if they waited. He nodded.
“Okay.” She thought for a second. “Let’s try the kitchen. The sink’s bigger.”
She pulled away from him and stood, and he took his time shifting his legs off the bed. By the time he made it to the kitchen she’d pulled a wooden chair over, the back up against the cabinet.
He made his way to her and sat, propping up his crutches before he tilted his head back to test the height.
“This is actually pretty perfect. Sit back up for a second and I’ll go get shampoo and towels.”
Gertrude trotted in after Claire left. She hated getting wet and usually steered clear of anything she knew sprayed water, so she sat a few feet away and cocked her head, watching.
Claire returned and laid a folded towel along the counter where his neck would rest, draped one across his cast and handed him another one.
“Don’t get mad at me if you get wet. I’ve never done this before.”
He glanced down, contemplating, then carefully pulled his shirt over his head. He figured it would be easier to just dry his skin if she got water everywhere and hadn’t really thought anything of it, but when he leaned back to settle in and caught Claire’s expression, his body immediately tightened with awareness.
Her gaze started at his collarbone and slowly, slowly traveled down his torso. Heat followed in the wake of her gaze, which felt more like a caress than a perusal.
Fuck.
What would she do if he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her across his lap? He’d be a shit kisser right now, but as previously discussed his hands felt great. He just wanted to bury his face in her neck and breathe her scent into his lungs...
She swallowed and seemed to snap out of it, spinning around to the sink and turning on the water. It ran for several seconds before she switched to the sprayer and started wetting his hair. “How, um, how’s the temperature?”
He gave her a thumbs-up, his brain and...other things still focused on the palpable desire that had just passed between them like a downed powerline sparking and slithering across the pavement.
Tone it down.
He tried to think of something—anything—else, but then she touched him. Fingers sliding through his hair, massaging, lightly pressing her nails to his scalp. Goose bumps broke out across his skin and he closed his eyes, leaning into her movements.
