Chapter Seventeen #2
He touched my brow as soon as my eyes opened. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
His head hung.
“Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but I knew by the look on his face he blamed himself, and nothing I could say would change his mind.
“So are Delfia and I having a slumber party tonight?”
A devilish grin appeared on his face. “She has a date, so it looks like it’s just you and me.”
“Hmm.”
“Come on, Kelli. We’re both adults.”
That was the part that worried me. “Did you tell her I was injured and how important this was to me?” I mean, surely her date with Matt could wait a night.
“I didn’t think that was wise.”
“Why not?”
“Did you really want me to disclose to Ms. King that I was the alternative?”
“Well, no, but I don’t think we should be having a sleepover.” Taking my chances of slipping into a coma sounded like a better and safer idea.
“I cleared it with your sister, if that makes you feel better.”
I sat up as straight as my body would allow me to at the moment.
I was finding movement of any kind to be painful, and my right side was a little numb from the local anesthesia they had given me before they manipulated my shoulder.
“When and why did you talk to Amanda?” I didn’t want to tell her until she got back.
He touched my shoulder gently as if to tell me to relax. “I knew she would want to know, and I had to get the code to your apartment.”
“What?”
He reached down, grabbed a bag, and placed it gently on my abdomen. “I thought you would want some more comfortable, non-blood splattered clothing to change into.”
His thoughtfulness surprised me. “Thank you, but . . .” I didn’t know what to say. The guy was throwing me for a loop.
“But, what?” he grinned.
“You shouldn’t have called my sister. I don’t want her to worry.”
“She’s happy I called her, and I promised her I would take good care of you, so there was no need for her to worry.”
“And she believed you?” I spluttered.
“You know, some people actually think I’m a pretty good guy.”
I exhaled loudly.
He leaned closer and lightly touched the bruised side of my face. “I don’t blame you for the misgivings you have about me. They are well deserved, but I know somewhere in that willful mind of yours, you know it’s true.”
I so badly wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at me so tenderly, but I had spent years trying to get over him, only to have him hang over every relationship I’d tried to have.
Instead of words to respond, my body decided tears were a good way to go.
It wasn’t the best option in my mind, but I couldn’t hold it liable; after all, I was tired and battered, physically and emotionally.
A body can only take so much. To make matters worse, Ian carefully drew me into him and held me.
Against my better judgment, I sank into him and bathed his shoulder with my tears.
That overwhelming feeling of peace and rightness suddenly washed over me. But how could that be? I had loved him, and because of that, he left me. I extricated myself, settled back against the bed, and closed my eyes. He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
I heard my nurse come in. “I’ve come to spring you,” she announced.
It was the best news I’d had all day.
She came around to the side Ian occupied. “I’m going to need you to move. I need to check your wife’s vitals one more time, but don’t worry, I’ll have her back to you in no time.” She winked at me.
It was all I could do to not roll my eyes.
It didn’t take her long to remove all the medical paraphernalia attached to me.
Once she was done, she went over a list of things I should and shouldn’t be doing for the next week.
Heavy lifting and driving were off the table.
She also gave me a list of exercises to do with my arm and shoulder.
She turned to Ian and gave him warning signs of concussions to look for.
“Also, your wife may be unsteady for a day or two, so it would be a good idea to help her with everyday tasks like bathing and dressing.”
“Don’t worry, I will be happy to help her with anything she needs.” Ian patted my hand.
My brows raised so high, the cut on my forehead began pulsing.
She handed Ian a couple of prescriptions for pain relief. “Just let me know as soon as your wife is dressed, and I’ll bring in a wheelchair to take her down to your car.” How many times was she going to call me his wife?
As soon as she left, I sat up slowly and grabbed the bag of clothes Ian had brought me with my left hand.
He helped me stand. “Would you like some help dressing?”
“I think I can manage.”
“Doctor’s orders,” he whispered in my ear.
I nudged him away with my hip. “I’ll be right back. Keep your eyes to yourself.” I wasn’t sure how much of my backside was showing. Hospital gowns were the worst.
“You have my word. I’ll be here if you need me. I put a button up shirt in there, so you don’t have to reach above your head.”
He always thought of everything. I crept my way to the bathroom.
I was definitely getting those prescriptions filled.
Every step felt like I was dragging a ton of bricks, and the bricks shot needles every time they were moved.
Once in the bathroom, I realized why Janelle said I would need help dressing.
It was all I could do to get my jeans on, but I had to.
There was no way I would have Ian help me and calling Janelle in here would blow the whole we’re married thing.
I silently cursed Ian as I slowly pulled up my pants with only my left hand.
My poor right side still wasn’t functioning.
The anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet. It took everything I had not to cry.
It was then I realized I couldn’t button them with only one hand. I had the same issue with my shirt.
I came out of the bathroom holding my shirt together with one hand to find a smug-looking Ian right by the door waiting for me.
“Do you need help, honey?”
“Don’t even think about looking down my shirt or pants,” I warned.
He grabbed my shirt, pulled me to him, and began buttoning my shirt while his dancing eyes stared directly into my own. Not once did he look down.
“Don’t enjoy this too much,” I growled.
He pulled me a little closer to him. “Maybe you don’t know how this works for guys, but we typically enjoy unbuttoning.”
“Did you really just say that to me, Mr. Greyson?”
“No more Mr. Greyson, Kelli,” he pleaded.
He had two buttons left when he stopped. “Is that sufficient?”
I nodded, and without a word, he buttoned my jeans for me. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“My pleasure.” He led me to the bed and helped me sit down. There he bent down and put on my shoes for me like I was four years old. He stood. “I’ll let your nurse know you’re ready to go, and I’ll pull the car around.”
“Thanks.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
Yeah. This was going to be an interesting night.
Janelle was there within a couple of minutes.
She wheeled me out into the warm evening air.
I loved that it was staying lighter later.
It was around six, but there was still plenty of sun.
Ian waited by the passenger side with the door already opened.
He had some black sporty-looking car. I couldn’t tell off hand what the make was, but it looked expensive.
Janelle helped me up, and Ian took it from there, helping me into his car. He even buckled me in. I was beginning to feel like a toddler.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
Not even a little.