Summer
I couldn’t believe I’d gotten myself stranded with Jonah again. I’d called Mama—I’d had a charger in my car this time. She hadn’t been surprised. Then Jonah and I had made hamburgers with tomatoes, pickles, onions, and lettuce. I might’ve heaped on the veggies to make a good show of it.
After dinner, he’d worked on his computer at the kitchen table while I’d watched a show. I’d answered a few work emails on my phone and then abandoned it forSweet Home Alabama. I wasn’t used to quiet nights like this. Boyd had always had to be doing something. I might be working remotely, but I’d had a more restful two weeks than when I’d been with Boyd.
Jonah shuffled to the couch and gingerly sat down. He’d been moving slower and using his cane, but he hadn’t said anything.
“Do you want to watch something?” I asked.
“No. I can space out and think of designs.”
“Is that how it works?”
He changed position, and I swore he smothered a wince. “Yes. I’ll look at what’s for sale in stores and on popular sites, even look at some influencers in the field, but mostly I get inspiration when I can let my mind wander.”
“Your lifestyle fits it.”
“Yep.” He changed his position again.
“Are you in pain?” Would he answer honestly?
“It’s fine.”
So, sort of. “How bad was the fall?”
“Nothing I haven’t been through before.”
He wasn’t shutting me down like I’d thought he would. He wasn’t being open either, but he was talking. “What usually helps?”
“Rest.”
How could he rest when he was uncomfortable? “For real now, what helps?”
He rolled his eyes to me, his lips tight. The scruff along his jaw had grown into a trimmed beard. My palms itched to run along the strands. Were they wiry or soft? Did he use product? The longer the season went, did he turn more mountain man-y?
“It’s fine, Summer.”
I was tempted to threaten to call his mom, but that wouldn’t earn his trust. Breaking into his house was enough for one day. “I’m not asking if you’re fine. I’m asking what usually works.”
His mouth tightened more. “Hot baths, but I don’t want to bend in and out of the tub. Massage is usually good, but that’s out until the storm is done.”
“I can give you a massage.”
He went still and the air crackled between us. My offer was genuine and I’d made it without a second thought, but now the possibility was on my mind. My hands on his strong body. My mouth went dry.
“No,” he said tightly.
He’d named two things that worked and he was ruling out both. “The Wi-Fi’s still working. I can search some videos. Anything’s better than nothing, right? It’s not like I’m strong enough to hurt you.”
The corners of his jaw flexed. “You’re not massaging me.”
He was so definitive, it was insulting. “I only want to help.” When he shook his head and twisted away, I caught his wince. Enough of this. “Go lie down, Jonah.”
“Summer—”
“You’re in pain. It’s because of me. Let me help.”
His eyes softened at my plea. “Fine.” He got up as carefully as he’d sat down. His knuckles were white on his cane.
