11. DANIELLE
I couldn’t find any words of comfort after Cody explained his reasons for helping Alex look out for me.
Even though I hated to admit it, his confession began to shift how I saw him, despite my lingering unease about the whole situation.
Part of me felt sorry for him, while another part realized he understood me more than I had once believed.
I just lay there in silence, drifting in and out of sleep as he continued massaging the ache in my leg.
Once I was almost asleep for good, I noticed Cody pause, his touch leaving my leg.
In an instant, the sense of safety and comfort I’d felt for the first time in years was gone.
Instinctively, I reached for his hand and placed it back.
Before I gave in to sleep, I managed to mumble the only response I could find.
“I’m sorry.”
That night, I slept better than I had in years.
My sleep was uninterrupted and peaceful; a far cry from restless nights spent anxious and afraid.
Just the simple act of a hand resting on me, a body lying next to me as I fell asleep, the body of someone who expected nothing from me and would do anything for me, made me realize what it was like to feel safe around a man. And so, I slept.
I was awoken by the sound of people talking in the hallway.
I opened my eyes, blinking against the glare seeping through the curtains, adjusting to the light.
To my surprise, I found Cody still in my bed, asleep, slouched over with his head resting on my leg.
I was stunned. No wonder I had felt safe enough to sleep so deeply; I had assumed he would leave after I drifted off, but he had stayed with me all night.
The next few minutes, I just lay there watching his chest rise and fall with each long, slow breath.
The dim light was just enough to highlight every vein and every curve of every muscle in his arm.
It was the first time I really looked at Cody, but I stopped when I realized I was staring at the imprint of the muscles under his tank top.
I felt my face get flushed, though I wasn’t sure why, considering he couldn’t see me taking in the sight of him.
Wanting to let him rest, I shifted as best I could without interrupting him, sat up, and turned on the TV, lowering the volume so I wouldn’t disturb him.
When Cody finally woke up, he seemed to be in an irritating hurry, which quickly negated whatever sympathy I’d felt for him the night before.
All I wanted was a shower and a decent breakfast before I had to force myself back into the car.
After a bit of back-and-forth and rearing my attitude, he reluctantly agreed to let me get ready.
Just as I was about to get up and head for the bathroom, Cody asked me if I could manage it on my own, and I could already feel the dull burn of anxiety in my chest.
Fuck!
I hadn’t thought of that, and it was obvious Alex hadn’t either, because if he had, this would not have been the scenario I was now trapped in. The last thing I needed was Alex’s lonely, maybe even perverted, friend helping me wash my naked body.
“I’ll tell you what,” Cody started to say.
Oh great, here it comes.
I was just waiting for some gross proposition disguised as help. “I’ll help you to the bathroom door and then wait outside, just to make sure you’re okay. I want you to feel comfortable and safe. Nothing more, I promise.”
Oh. Maybe I was wrong about him.
I gave Cody a thankful smile, but still a little wary. I didn’t want him to think I’d assumed the worst about him, or that I was suddenly buying into Alex’s idea that he was some sort of gentleman, or that I was even remotely interested in anything with any man ever again.
“Thanks, Cody.”
Cody helped me into the bathroom and closed the door behind me once I was inside.
I lowered myself onto the toilet lid, fingers fumbling at the buttons on my shirt as the tremble in my hands made everything slower than it needed to be.
The thought of showering alone, especially for the first time since the injury, made me nervous.
Standing on my leg was hard enough on solid ground; the idea of doing it in the shower felt downright impossible.
Still, knowing Cody was just outside offered a small bit of comfort.
I managed to get my clothes off and reached over to turn on the shower, feeling almost triumphant until I saw the tub’s ledge. Only then did I realize I hadn’t even considered how I’d actually climb into the shower.
I thought I could manage to sit on the ledge and swing my legs into the shower and stand back up again, but the ledge was too low, and with my two healing, weak legs, I was about as graceful as a newborn giraffe.
Plan B was to just try my best to shift all my weight to one leg long enough to get the other in the shower, which also quickly went to shit as my ankle almost gave out, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot up my leg.
I looked around the bathroom for anything else that could possibly help me, but there was nothing. I considered Plan C, just sticking my head in and washing my hair, but a quick whiff of my armpit cancelled that idea. There was no way I could manage it by myself.
“Damnit!” I blurted out, frustrated, searching for a last-minute solution that didn’t involve Cody. That also proved to be futile because not even a second later, he called out, asking what was wrong. He wasn’t joking when he said he’d be right outside the door.
“I have a problem,” I forced out through my tightened jaw.
“Are you hurt?” His voice wobbled, the usual steadiness gone.
This was the point where I had to let go of my pride—and my privacy. Cody had proven himself during my rehab and again now, by waiting respectfully outside. As much as it embarrassed me, I needed his help, and I had to trust him with this.
“Cody…” I hesitated, hating how vulnerable I felt. “I can’t put all my weight on one side long enough to get into the shower. I…I think I need your help.”
No answer.
Did he leave the hallway? Did he die of shock? Is he out there freaking out? Or asking Alex for permission?
Oh God, please don’t ask Alex for permission.
“Cody? Hello?”
Finally, he answered.
“Alright, look. I know neither one of us is particularly thrilled about this, so just turn away from the door or something. I won’t look at…anything.”
Alright, Danielle. It's no different than when your nurse helped you.
I repeated this to myself countless times during those few seconds between Cody's words and the door opening, but I couldn't make myself believe it.
I stood there, one arm braced against the wall, the other clutching my towel like a lifeline.
When Cody opened the door, the steam rushed out, replaced by cool hallway air that raised goosebumps across my skin.
I turned to see him approaching, trying his best to see nothing.
It was at least endearing, if nothing else.
He stopped just before his body touched mine.
I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin and his nervous, shallow breathing against my neck.
After his quiet reassurance that he wouldn't do anything inappropriate, I let the towel fall, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest and squeezing my eyes shut.
The moment Cody touched me, I don’t know if I felt confused or comforted.
He was so gentle as he lifted me that he somehow managed to make me feel vulnerable and safe all at the same time, just like the night before.
I opened my eyes to find his eyes fixed steadily on my face, taking extra care not to look anywhere else.
Focusing on the shades of blue in his eyes kept me from losing my composure and kept the emotions I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to control in check.
Cobalt.
His eyes are Cobalt.
Once inside, the steaming hot water cascaded over me as I sorted through the thoughts in my head.
Emotions flooded through me as tears pooled in my eyes, and I struggled to interpret what I was feeling, unsure if they were genuine feelings or just my subconscious responding to a gentle touch, something I hadn't experienced in so long.
It’s not that I was questioning any romantic feelings for Cody; that was the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, I wondered about this strange sense of security I felt, based on nothing more substantial than Alex's word and a day’s worth of kindness.
By the time I finished my shower, I had talked myself out of whatever I thought I'd felt. It wasn't real, just nerves and the novelty of gentle treatment. I couldn’t ignore the idea that, aside from everything, he was absolutely gorgeous. His jet-black hair always fell intentionally across his face, and maybe in another life, I would work up the courage to run my fingers through it. But that wasn’t this life.
I wasn’t capable, and he didn’t need to deal with me.
And anyway, all of this was negated by the fact that whatever this feeling was, it was inflated.
After all, when you've spent so long having the shit beat out of you, basic human decency can feel like something more than it is.