Rocking forward, I tried to clear the thick clouds in my head. The painkillers I’d attempted to take last night lay like little enemies in their packet within grabbing distance.
Snatching them, I managed to pop two before Hope stole the foil, almost slicing my thumb as she yanked it from my hand. “You get two. And only because you can barely move, and you need to move. Right now.”
“I do?” I tossed the pills back, lodging them low in my belly to work their magic. I wished it was instantaneous. “How come?”
Hope stood, brushing off floor crumbs and odd pieces of grass I’d trekked in and hadn’t bothered to sweep up. “Come on.” Leaning down, she opened her arms for me to…what? Hug her? Hold her as she hauled my ass up?
No way.
Waving her back, I growled. “I can get myself up.”
“How? The same way you fell?”
My eyes narrowed to slits. “Your annoyance level has just gone up a thousand percent.”
“I don’t care if I’m annoying if it gets you better.”
“How is driving me crazy going to fix me?”
“Well, for one thing. You have a choice.”
“Oh, great. Another choice. Is this like the deal you tried to offer me? The one where you want to be my friend but expect me not to care when you’re gone?”
She froze.
I froze.
I looked at the stainless steel toaster refracting sunlight around the kitchen. “Look, I—”
“Don’t. It’s fine.” She straightened, standing over me with a sad expression. She paced away for a second, thoughts racing before she selected one and strode back. “I know where I stand with you, Jacob. I know you don’t want a friend, and I know I upset you. But please…let me help you.”
I studied her, searched her face, tasted the loneliness she thought she kept hidden, and understood the drive to find answers to a world she didn’t belong.
We were more alike than I would ever admit.
The only difference being, she could tolerate being hurt by love.
And I could not.
Taking a deep breath, I reached up and clutched the cutlery drawer handle. Using it as a crutch, I slowly, very slowly, hauled myself up.
Pins and needles once again tortured my hand, but I stood without wobbling, my vision clear and full of Hope. “You can help. Today only.”
Her gaze locked on my half-naked form, skimming over my boxers. The scars I’d earned from working the land. The muscles I’d formed from hard labour. Nothing was soft or pretty about me these days, but Hope didn’t look as if my weathered, well-used body offended her.
If anything, the way she stared made my heart chug harder and not from pain.
Everywhere she looked, it felt as if she touched me. She bit her lip, her fingers coming far too close, wanting to trace a particularly nasty slash across my left peck that’d earned twenty stitches when I was eighteen.
I’d picked a fight with a piece of fencing wire. I’d been tightening the spool, cranking too tight, when the metal decided to crack into me, shredding flesh from muscle.
That injury I hadn’t been able to hide from Mom. The torrent of blood and torn T-shirt hinted I wasn’t exactly in great condition.
Hope’s attention dropped lower, lingering on the only piece of clothing I wore, drawing far too much heat and need to that area.
My vision greyed on the edges as things between my legs tightened against my will.
Rocking backward out of her reach, I cleared my throat. “Uh, Hope…”
My voice broke her trance, slamming her back into reality.
“Sorry. Um, today?” She shook her head. “No, I’ll help you for however long you’re injured.”
Her tone was papery, full of the same shivery heartbeats pounding in my chest.
I supposed I should be flattered that she found me attractive. I didn’t need to be skilled in dating and flirting to know the depth in her gaze wasn’t because she’d found me lying on my kitchen floor like an idiot. She looked at me with eyes that said she wanted more than friendship.
A hell of a lot more.
And that could never be permitted.
Turning my back on her, I hid the groan of moving too fast and placed a hand in front of my suddenly uncomfortably tight boxer-briefs.
Hope cleared her throat, sounding more like the opinionated, chatty girl I knew rather than the needy, hungry one.
“I’ll keep helping you until you’re better.”
“I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“If that’s the case, then okay. I’ll stop bugging you tomorrow.”
I stiffened as another wash of pain rushed down my spine. Even I knew I wouldn’t get over this by tomorrow. That meant I’d have to put up with her for a lot longer than I wanted…than I could handle.
“Now, about that choice.” A rustle sounded as she placed hands on her hips like any strict nurse, eradicating the sexual tension between us. “Choice number one, and the one I want you to take—we call Della, tell her the truth, and let the adults decide how to fix you.”