Chapter 10 - Micah
The first day taking care of Asher wasn’t bad.
He slept a lot, which the doctor had said to expect.
By day two, Asher seemed to settle into my presence in his house and in his daily routine, not that he really had any other choice.
I brought him breakfast in the morning and he seemed to have a better appetite, because by the time I was ready to leave for the day, the pancakes I'd given him had disappeared from the plate.
He was sitting up easier and smiling a little more, too.
After work, I stopped by the grocery store to load up on provisions. Asher didn't have much at his house in terms of groceries and I was starting to suspect he lived mostly off of takeout.
I ran into Jackson at the store as I was browsing the produce section. “Hey,” I said when I spotted him, unsure if he'd remember me. “Jackson, right? I'm Micah.”
He gave me a big smile. “How's our boy? I can't thank you enough for taking care of him.”
I laughed softly, relieved at the familiarity. “He's good. Sleeping a lot. He was hurting pretty bad yesterday but he seemed a little more comfortable this morning. And it's no problem. I'm happy to.”
“Well, I appreciate it. We've tried living together. We make terrible roommates. If I also had to play nurse, I might kill him.”
“He's not that bad,” I assured him.
“Just wait until you have to agree on a TV show to watch.” Jackson chuckled and shook his head. “Impossible.” A moment later, he shrugged. “I should get going. I was thinking I'd come by sometime, maybe during my lunch break, to keep him company.”
“That sounds great. I'll let him know.”
We said our goodbyes and I meandered through the store, picking ingredients for a handful of my favorite meals.
I didn't know what Asher would like, so I tried to keep it fairly tame—burgers, sandwiches, tacos, chili.
Once we spent some more time together, I could get a better read on what he'd want.
As I made my way through the checkout line, I was struck by how normal it felt to be grocery shopping for Asher, to be planning meals for the two of us to share. It had been at least twenty years since we'd seen each other, but coming home to him felt right in a way I couldn't pinpoint.
Back at his house, I let myself in, calling out to let him know nobody was breaking in. “Ash? It's just me.”
He didn't respond, so I finished bringing the groceries inside before making my way down the hall to peek in on him.
I opened the door slowly, trying to stay quiet.
He was sleeping peacefully, eyes closed, face slack, and he didn't stir at all.
I watched him sleep for a few seconds, my chest squeezing tight, before I realized I was probably being weird and closed the door as quietly as I'd opened it.
I headed to the kitchen to put away groceries and prepare dinner, but just as I was putting the last of the food in the pantry, Asher called my name from the bedroom.
“Micah?”
I hurried down the hall and stood in the doorway to see what he needed. “Hey, you’re awake.”
He nodded a little. “Do you know where my phone is?”
“I think it's still in the living room. Want me to go grab it for you?”
“Please. Also could you turn on a light? It’s so dark in here.”
“You sure? The doctor said you’re going to have some light sensitivity and would want to rest your eyes.” I flipped on the light switch. He groaned the second I did, so I quickly turned it off.
“I guess she’s right,” he grumbled. “Can you at least open the curtains?”
“For sure.” Once the curtains were open, I grabbed his phone from the living room and returned with it. “You’re probably not going to want to do much on this thing for a few more days at least.”
He sighed and tossed it onto the bed next to him. “You’re probably right about that, too, but good God am I bored.”
I could understand that. He’d spent the entire day sleeping or sitting around, alone, in the dark room. “I’ll be right back.” I went to the dining space and grabbed one of the wooden chairs from the table, carrying it with me to Asher’s room.
“What’s this?”
I laughed as I placed the chair next to his bed. “You really must’ve done a number on your head if you don’t recognize a chair.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but what are you doing with this chair?”
“Keeping you company. Duh.” I sat, facing him, and grinned.
“Remember that time I broke my ankle in sixth grade?” When he nodded, I continued.
“You stuck by me and helped me out every time I needed it until my cast came off. You got my homework for me while I was at home and you carried my backpack when I got back to school.”
“That’s what friends do.”
“That’s exactly why I’m here.”
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” I said. “Good news.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I could use some good news.”
“I was talking to Jake and Max and they've decided to work around your injuries. Jake said his crew and Tyler can handle the basics while you get back on your feet.”
He groaned softly and rubbed a hand over his face. “The show. I wasn’t even thinking about how this would impact production.”
“It's okay. You've had a lot going on. But it's good news that they're not interested in replacing you.”
He gave me a little grin. “I'm irreplaceable. Duh.”
My breath caught in my throat, my heart thudding hard in my chest. After a second, I shoved his thigh gently and laughed. “I guess you are.” Another moment passed and I cleared my throat and patted my thighs. “I should get back to making dinner. Are you okay in here?”
“Can you get me into the living room? I’m tired of being in bed.”
“Of course.” I reached out and helped him stand, waiting to be sure he’d be steady on his feet before I stepped away.
I had the urge to reach out and let him lean on me the way I’d done previously, to touch him and support him.
I suppressed that feeling and instead hovered behind him as he hobbled down the hallway and into the living room.
When he settled into his recliner, he let out a sigh of relief and grabbed the TV remote from the side table.
“Absolutely not,” I said with authority.
“Come on. Please?”
I took the TV remote out of his hand. “No. The articles all say no TV. You need to rest your brain.”
He grumbled something that sounded like “party pooper” and settled back into his recliner. “It’s boring just resting here.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Listen to some music. It’ll be good for you. Here, I’ll put on this meditation channel and you can just relax.” I pointed the remote at the TV and clicked on the music app.
Asher snorted. “I feel like I’m in a spa. Or in a therapist’s waiting room.”
That drew a hearty laugh out of me. “Whatever you say. It’s good for you.”
“I have an idea.”
I raised my eyebrows and made a “continue” gesture with my hand.
“Let me sit at the breakfast bar while you cook. I won’t be in the way.”
I sighed. “Aren’t you going to be uncomfortable on a barstool? Wouldn’t you rather be in your nice, plush recliner?”
“Not really.”
“Alright, but if you start to feel bad, promise me you’ll come back in here.”
“Promise.”
“Fine,” I said, giving in before getting to work in the kitchen. By the time dinner was eaten, Asher was tired again, and I helped him get back to bed before settling in the guest room myself.
I admitted to myself as I was getting ready for bed that having him watch me cook was nice. Domestic. I liked it, more than I’d expected to.
The next day, he announced that he needed his first post-accident shower. He said it had been too many days and he felt gross.
I nodded in understanding. “I’ll help you get into the bathroom, but only if you promise to use the shower chair I made you buy.”
“I’m not—”
“You need it.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
“All right, up we go,” I said as I helped Asher to his feet. He groaned as he stood—his hip was still hurting—and he wobbled a little on his feet. “You alright?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, what kind of help do you want?”
“I don’t need—” He stopped himself abruptly.
I held up my hands mock defensively. “Whatever you say, friend.” I grinned as warmth filled me.
I followed Asher to the bathroom and turned on the water before very gently helping him out of his shoulder sling and getting his shirt off him.
Once that was done, I passed him the mesh shoulder sling his doctor had recommended for showering.
For a moment, he fumbled with it. I didn’t jump in to help right away. I didn’t want to smother him with care.
After another moment, he looked at me. “Will you help me? Please,” he said softly, sounding a little defeated.
“Yeah, of course I can,” I murmured, putting the sling over his shoulder and helping him gently lower his arm into the cradle. “You good?”
Asher nodded. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. Enjoy your shower.”
I made my way to the guest room to get ready for work, feeling warm inside.
It was nice to feel useful to someone for once.
I was also starting to feel… well, even more attracted to him.
I justified it by reminding myself that of course I’d find him attractive.
He was an objectively good-looking guy. Tall, muscular, broad shoulders, looking every part the sexy construction worker.
That said, I had no business letting myself develop even the tiniest crush on him. I’d had too many experiences with straight guys experimenting and I knew that wasn’t what I wanted to ruin our friendship over.
I yanked a polo over my head and checked myself in the mirror before running my hands through my hair quickly. I’d taken long enough to get dressed, lost in my thoughts, that I suspected Asher would be out of the shower soon.
Sure enough, I heard the shower turn off just as I passed the bathroom. I turned around and stopped outside the bathroom door, knocking twice. “Hey, are you good in there or do you need help?”
There was a long pause. I almost knocked again, but just as I raised my hand, he responded. “No, I think I got it this time.”
“Sounds good. Let me know if you need me.” It had been an adjustment for Asher, getting used to accepting help for so many basic tasks. I knew he missed his independence, but I also knew his body still hurt and it wouldn’t help anyone if he pushed himself too hard too fast.
I lingered in the house, cleaning up the kitchen and finding things to do until Asher emerged from the bathroom, back in his clothes, hair dripping onto his shirt collar.
Trying hard not to hover or smother him, I watched as he carefully made his way back to the bedroom before following behind, making sure he got into bed safely.
Once he was settled, I knew it would be safe to leave him alone for a while. “Alrighty, I’m headed to work. Call my cell if anything comes up.”
“Will do.”
With that, I headed out to my car and to the job site to get my day underway.
I returned home—well, to Asher’s home—just around six. It had been a long day on the set, and even though I wasn’t usually needed for every last shot, that day had been particularly labor intensive. I was glad to be home.
I found Asher in his recliner, gaze fixed on the screen as he watched something on TV. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and tell him he shouldn’t be watching TV. “What’s this?”
He glanced at me before nodding at the screen.
“Historical romance. Look, I bet he’s about to beg her not to run away.
She doesn’t want to marry him, but she doesn’t have a choice, according to her parents.
He doesn’t want to force her into a wedding though.
She tried escaping over the garden wall, but he caught her just in time. ”
I shook my head and chuckled, toeing my shoes off. “Whatever you say, you softie.”
He shrugged. “What, a man can’t enjoy a romance every now and then?”
I laughed and nodded. “Fair. Now, what do you want for dinner?”
His eyes lit up. “Burgers?”
“I can make that happen.” An hour later, I was serving up burgers, bringing our plates into the living room so he didn’t have to make his way to the table.
“So what did you do today?” He picked up his burger in one hand and took a careful bite. As he did, he made a soft noise of pleasure in the back of his throat, sending a jolt through me.
Straight, I told myself. He’s straight. “I worked on sketching out and storyboarding for the next phase of production for a while. Then it felt like every time the director called action, someone would trip over something or send something flying, so I had to rearrange the set a little to flow better with the way the cameras were set up for the day. I swear, every single shot, they needed me to adjust something. I bet we have to scrap the whole day’s work. ”
He groaned. “That sounds terrible.”
“It wasn’t fun. How about you?”
“Binged that show. Nothing exciting.”
I chuckled. “Did you eat anything? Anything other than watch ladies in corsets dance around to instrumental pop music?”
He sighed and fixed me with a look. “Yes, Mom. I ate.”
I rolled my eyes and threw a wadded-up napkin at him. “You know you love me.”
In response, he flipped me off, but I noticed a hint of color on his cheeks as he did.
When I looked at him again, I also noticed a smear of ketchup that had somehow managed to get on his cheek.
“Oh, you’ve, uh, got something…” I gestured to his face.
He wiped at his face with a napkin but didn’t get it.
“Not quite. Um, higher up.” Again, he missed, and I shook my head.
“Let me just…” I grabbed a napkin and impulsively wiped his cheek, removing the ketchup.
As I touched his face, I froze for a second.
His hot breath on my wrist sent a shiver through me, and his cheeks colored further, his gaze flickering down to my mouth briefly.
Ketchup wiped off, I pulled my hand away, feeling a little lightheaded for some reason.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, anytime.” After cleaning up our plates, I retreated to the far corner of the couch with the pretense of wanting to stretch out. In reality, my stomach was churning with desire.