Eleven
I ignored his calls out to me as I hurried back to my room, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, and yeah, rejection too. Crazy, right? I wasn’t trying to get in his pants, but I felt like I’d tried and been rebuffed. I pushed my door closed, resigned to my fate of sleeping in an uncomfortable underwired bra, but a second later, my door crashed open, making me jump, and spin on my heels.
“Jesus, Soph, you drive me crazy sometimes. Will you just let me help you?” He was deliciously bare-chested, something I’d obviously noticed when I intruded on him in his room, and his tattoos drew my eye, the Godless Warriors one on his chest, and a curious blacked out patch on his upper arm, and the tribal markings around his other bicep.
“Soph, for fuck’s sake, come here. I’ll help you get naked.” I gasped, and my eyes met his, to see him wink at me. “Come on, babe, you must know I’d do anything for you at this point. How are we doing this?” He reached for the hem of my t-shirt, his fingers brushing against my thighs, and I shuddered, as it felt just as amazing as I’d expected, but he froze.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t be touching you without your consent. Jesus, babe, I’ll back off, but you came to me for help.”
“I didn’t… my god, it felt nice , okay, but don’t read into that. I’m not trying to entice you, I’m just really tired and I can’t sleep in this.” Lowell’s jaw clenched slightly and he nodded, a single jerky movement.
“Right, let’s get your good arm out first, I’ll lift as you pull it in.” He easily guided me out of the t-shirt, by getting it over my working arm and head, so he could carefully ease it over my injured wrist. He tossed the t-shirt at my laundry pile in the corner, and turned back to me, his eyes instantly dropping to my boobs, encased in a silvery grey lace bra. He swallowed hard, dragging his eyes back up to mine with a sheepish grin.
“Sorry. I’m just a man, we don’t have the ability not to look at tits. You need uh… need help with this too?” Was that hope in his eyes now, or was I just reading into everything, even though I’d just warned him not to.
“I do, but is that too much?” I knew I was chewing on my poor lip, but I was shy and awkward, and he looked like he wanted to eat me up, in all the good ways. Lowell cleared his throat, letting out a long slow breath.
“Just don’t look down, and we’re golden, babe.” He reached for me, as I did exactly what he asked me not to, and saw how affected he was by my state of undress.
“Oh!” I gasped, and he groaned.
“You looked, didn’t you? I’m so fucking sorry, babe, I’m only human, and you’re fucking gorgeous, and nearly naked, and Jesus… I’m such a fucking dog.” His hands dropped, and he looked so dejected, even as he tried to adjust those sweatpants, that honestly hid nothing, and highlighted exactly why we women love them so damn much.
“It’s okay, I’m so sorry to ask this of you. If it’s too much-”
“I can control myself, babe, just… do you have any idea how fucking hot you are? If you were interested, I’d show you ways to take your mind off that wrist, and…” he trailed off, dragging a hand over his face. His hands landed on my shoulders, the blazing heat of his skin making me gasp again. He gently guided me around to face away from him, and unclipped my bra in a move so effortless, I was impressed. I let it slide down my chest and shook it off, and then he was guiding me into my long t-shirt I’d laid out to wear in bed.
“There you go, babe, get some sleep, yeah?” By the time I’d turned to look for him, he was at the door.
“Lowell?”
“You’re too good for me,” I think he whispered, but then he lifted a hand.
“Night, babe.” The door closed quietly behind him, and I stared dejectedly at it for a moment. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough, could he? He’d almost started to talk dirty, but he’d stopped. Why? Why did he hold back, and why was it bothering me so much?
T he next morning, I was woken by a brisk knock on my door and I called out for him to come in, as I tried to sit up, inadvertently leaning on my injured wrist, which I’d blissfully forgotten about, in those first foggy moments of wakefulness. Lowell rushed into my room as I yelled out in pain. He was fully dressed, carrying my favourite tea mug, and something else I couldn’t focus on, as the pain blossomed again.
“Shit, babe, did I make you hurt yourself?”
“Will you stop taking the damn blame for everything?” I snapped, immediately feeling like a bitch, when his entire body froze mid-reach for me.
“Dammit, I’m sorry, Lowell. I guess pain makes me snappy, but you didn’t deserve that.”
He offered me his usual easy grin as he helped me sit up, and tucked my spare pillow behind me. He gently checked my wrist, which was still encased in the removable brace they’d applied last night.
“Maybe we should put ice on it again for a bit, and leave this off.”
Lowell passed me two of my pills, and cradled my mug of tea in his hands for a moment.
“Probably still a bit hot, but you need to take those now. I’ll get you some water.” He was out of the room before I could even formulate a response. When he returned, he had the water, and a bag of frozen peas, and set to freeing my wrist carefully from the brace, resting it on a pillow, and wrapping the bag of peas in my discarded t-shirt from last night, resting them over my swollen wrist.
“Okay, now pills.” Once he was satisfied that he’d looked after me, he stood up again. “I’ll make something for you to eat. I’m not the best cook, but I could scramble some eggs again, and-”
“You don’t have to do that, Lowell, you’ve done so much already. I’ll get up and do those things in a minute.” He laughed and petted my shoulder.
“Babe, you brought me back from the fucking brink. This is the least I can do,” he paused, “unless the prospect of my cooking is that terrifying, and I wouldn’t blame you for that.”
I caught his hand, and tugged him down to sit again.
“What did you mean last night?”
“Huh?” He was even cuter when he looked bemused, but I was tired of wondering about what he was feeling, and what I felt.
“I’m not too good for you, Lowell,” I held up my hand as he tried to speak, “I’m a chemist, cooking up drugs for a biker club, for god’s sake. I’m not a good person, but I want to be, especially if you’ll give me a chance to prove it to you.”
Lowell groaned, his eyes searching mine for a moment, before he glanced away. He seemed to be preparing himself, or planning what to say in response, and I almost spoke again, to hurry him, but that’s not how a conversation works, is it?
“Jesus, babe, that stuff doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re doing it to keep your little sister safe, and that’s noble as fuck. It’s not about who you are anyway. It’s about me. I’m not a good guy. I’ve done things… I…” he stood up, further distancing himself from me. Was he really trying the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line right now?
“Lowell?”
He’d started to pace, and his agitation was practically emanating from him in waves, making me want to simultaneously comfort him, and back away to a safe distance.
“There’s no way I could deserve someone decent like you, Soph. Your heart is so fucking pure, and I’m an asshole. A monster. A thug. The things I’ve done… I deserved to die on that hill, but you saved me. You risked everything to rescue a man and nurse him back to life, and it… I didn’t deserve that, not after what I did.”
He looked and sounded almost tearful, and I was moving before I realised it, trying to go to him, to, I don’t know, hold him? Soothe him? Kiss him? I had no idea what, but he caught me as I stepped up in front of him, his hands on my shoulders, but braced to keep me back.
“I shouldn’t be touching you. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of it.” His voice was dropping to a whisper, but his eyes were at least firmly on mine now, and I could see it in his eyes; pain, despair, heartbreak… anguish . He was hating himself for something, but how bad could it even be? He was a good man. I’d learned that since we’d been growing closer. How could he think I was somehow too good for him?
“Babe, you’re meant for something better, someone better. Not a fucking prick like me. Even though I’d treat you like a fucking goddess, it could never make up for the evil things I’ve done. I wish it could. I wish I could be your guy, I really do.”
I lifted my good hand, pressing it against his hard chest, his body heat emanating at me through the thin t-shirt.
“You keep referring to evil things you did, but I don’t see how you’d be capable of anything that bad, Lowell, you’re such a gentle, thoughtful guy.” He snorted, resting a hand over mine on his chest, his heart thudding rapidly beneath my palm.
“Gentle. Thoughtful. Babe, I may seem like I’m capable of those things with you, but ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll say very different things. Asshole. Prick. Wiseass. And that’s if they’re feeling kind, which they won’t. I don’t deserve that from them. More likely, they’ll call me sick, twisted, cruel, evil, or even dead meat. Because that’s what I’ll be if they find me, and babe, that is what I deserve.” I swear his eyes filled with tears at those words, but he quickly pulled away from me again. Was he going to always keep me at arm’s length, sometimes literally? The more he argued, the more I wanted him.
I followed him from my bedroom, finally catching his arm and dragging him to a halt.
“Dammit, Lowell, just fucking look at me!”