18. Ethan
CHAPTER 18
Ethan
When I realized that Bridget hadn’t told Becka about her surgery, I felt honored that she had trusted me to be her person through it. My thoughts quickly shifted as I realized that Becka’s return could mean that my days of playing caretaker to Bridget may be over sooner than I had hoped. She said I could stay the whole six weeks, but who knows if she’ll change her mind. We’ve been living in our own little bubble the past week, and I’m not ready to give that up yet—not when I feel like I’m slowly making progress with her.
Bridget dozed off quickly, falling asleep on her back before shifting to get comfortable, but her sleep was fitful. She ended up wrapped around me, arm draped over my torso, a thigh thrown over mine.
I, on the other hand, have been awake for a couple of hours. At first, the fact that I was sleeping in her bed next to her made me more excited than a child the night before Christmas. My heart was beating wildly out of my chest. And then she ended up cuddling on top of me. She’d been restless in her sleep for about forty-five minutes. Once she curled up against me, her breathing evened out, and she became as still as a sleeping kitten. I was afraid to move for fear she’d wake.
All I want is for her to get some peace and rest. If lying here next to her, practically holding my breath, affords her some comfort, then I’ll gladly serve my queen.
There’s a loud and persistent knock at the door. I slowly extricate myself from Bridget’s embrace, careful not to rouse her.
Unsure of who it could be at this hour, I pull on a pair of joggers and a shirt and move quickly down the hallway toward the door.
“Bridget! Bridget, open up!” a female voice wails from the other side.
“Shhh,” I soothe Becka as I open the door. I should’ve known. Bridget warned me this could happen.
“Ethan? What are you doing here? Are you guys hooking up again? I’m so sorry to interrupt.” Becka nervously looks around behind me.
“Not exactly. Why don’t you come in? I’ve been expecting you, though not at eleven at night.” I take a step back, allowing Becka to enter the apartment. She tentatively walks in with a look of confusion on her face.
“Sorry, I know it’s late, but if you aren’t hooking up, what are you doing here?”
“Why don’t you take a seat?”
“Is everything okay? You’re scaring me. Robert and I got back this afternoon, but I haven’t heard from Bridget at all. We normally text daily.”
“Bridget’s okay. She’s recovering from a procedure. She told you about her cyst, right?”
“Before I left. The doctor told her it was fine, though.”
“It was, it is. There’s no cancer from what they can tell, but because of her family history, they wanted to remove the cyst and the ovary it was attached to as soon as possible.”
“And I wasn’t here.” There’s a pained look on her face before clarity sets in. “She let you take care of her? What about her parents?”
“They’re in Europe on a cruise. I offered to help because–”
“She was going to take a rideshare to and from surgery, wasn’t she?”
“It’s hilarious how well you know her.”
“Fucking Bridget.” She chuckles softly. “She let you in. She let you help. She never lets anyone help.”
“I’m learning that. Trust me, it wasn’t easy. She only agreed to a friendship during her recovery. It was the only way she would let me help.”
“But you don’t want just a friendship.”
“Not even close.”
Her smile is warm, and it feels like I’ve found an ally in her. “I really like you for her. Please don’t give up on her. She needs someone else in her corner. I can’t be there for her all the time, and I worry about her. She may come across as uncaring or cold, but she has the biggest heart. She just doesn’t like people to know.”
“Any advice?”
“Be consistent and show up for her. It’s the only way to build trust with her. She’ll try to push you away, but don’t let her. It took me years to break through her shell, but you’ll never find someone more loyal once you do. And tell her to call me.”
“I will.” After Becka leaves, I glance at my watch and walk to the kitchen to get a glass of ice water and a couple of pain pills, knowing she’ll need them soon. I select an insulated tumbler from the cupboard and pick two large ice cubes to fill the cup first. I then fill it with smaller cubes before adding the water, ensuring her water stays cold throughout the night. I head back toward her bedroom and crawl in beside her.
Her back is to me, and I scoot in close to her, careful about how I drape my arm over her torso. The room is silent, save for her small, even breaths. A warmth fills my chest when her body heat envelops me as I mold myself around her.
A small moan escapes her, and I kiss her shoulder in response. “It hurts.”
Shit, maybe our activity earlier was a bit too much for her. “What hurts?”
“My lower abdomen. I think I was a little over-eager earlier. Can you check to see if I’m bleeding?” I reach the nightstand and turn on a lamp as she rolls over onto her back, lifting her shirt. Peeling back the gauze that covers her incisions, I smooth my fingers around them, careful not to touch the small gashes in her skin. She makes a small moan at my movements, and I still my fingers, afraid I’ve exacerbated her pain.
“Everything looks good,” I assure her as I carefully reapply the coverings over her incisions.
“Is it almost time for my pain medication?”
“You’ve got another couple of hours before you can take an ibuprofen, but you can take a Percocet. I know you’ve been avoiding using them, but maybe half of one will take the edge off so you can get some rest?”
“That’s fine, I just need it to stop,” she moans as she drags her hands down her face.
I hand her half a Percocet and the water, and she gingerly takes them both. “I’ll check on you in a couple of hours. If that doesn’t help, we can do more ibuprofen then,” I promise as I set the cup on the nightstand and stand.
Her hand reaches out, holding me in place. “Don’t go.” Her plea is barely audible, as if she’s insecure about voicing it. Half-kneeling on the bed, my other foot on the floor, I freeze. I had every intention of sleeping in her bed tonight, but I thought I’d watch TV for a little bit, giving her some space while her meds kick in.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” I ask, peeling back the covers and crawling in next to her.
“This is going to sound weird?—”
“I promise you, it’s not.”
She blows out a breath. “It felt so good the way your fingers were tracing around my incisions. Can you tickle my stomach like that?”
That was a moan of pleasure earlier, not pain. I grin to myself, deciding to tease her a little. “Are you asking me to scratch your tummy, hellcat? Last time I tried that, the cat hissed at me, and I got scratched.”
Even though the room is dark, I can feel her rolling her eyes.
Chuckling, I reach for her shirt. “I’m just teasing. I’ve got you.” My hand lightly grazes the skin around her bandages as she relaxes into the mattress. “Becka stopped by a little bit ago, I’m surprised she didn’t wake you with the way she was pounding on the door.”
“I was afraid that would happen. I’m sorry. How did she take the news?”
“Surprisingly well, but she wants you to call her.”
There’s no response, and when I look over, she’s fast asleep.