Christ, he needed to get himself under control. Seb’s injuries, combined with the fact he was considered pack—despite what Seb and Jared seemed to think—triggered Tim’s protective instincts, and the idea of carrying him down the stairs was so appealing that he was seconds away from just scooping him up, whether Seb wanted him to or not. But he held still, waiting for Seb to agree.
“God, go on, then.” Seb pointed down with his bandaged hand. “But can we not mention it to anyone. If Nathan finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Neither would I.“It’ll be our secret.”
Seb smiled at him, wide and sincere. “Thanks.”
Tim smiled back and tried not to appear too eager when he bent to hook his other arm under Seb’s knees. He lifted him easily, adjusting his hold until Seb was secure and had his arms around Tim’s neck, holding on tight. Seb wore a slightly fearful expression, and Tim laughed softly. “I’m not going to drop you.”
“I know, but this isn’t something I do a lot of.” Seb cast a pointed look down at Tim’s hands on him. “It’s weird and unnerving, and again I feel like the heroine in some bodice-ripper novel.”
Tim laughed out loud at that and really wasn’t thinking when he grinned and whispered, “Are you implying I want to have my wicked way with you?” He glanced at Seb as he spoke, and met raised eyebrows. Heat infused Tim’s cheeks, but before he could make any attempt to backtrack, Seb nodded at his ankle and said, “Nah, I’m in too much pain for any shenanigans.”
Awkwardness clung to the conversation like a wet blanket, but Tim soldiered on, determined to get them back to the easy-going conversation of a couple of minutes ago. “Lucky for you I know a man who can fix that.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and reluctantly, Tim set Seb on his good foot but kept an arm around his waist for support.
“Your brother, yes?”
Tim nodded. “Yeah, David.” He was about to add a bit more about David when he noticed a black bucket next to the front door. “How’re you feeling now?” He poked it with his foot. “Think you’ll need that in the car?”
Seb looked conflicted. “I really don’t fancy throwing up in a bucket in front of you.” Then he ran a hand over his belly and his shoulders sagged. “But I still feel a bit shit, and I don’t think throwing up on your seats is the better option.”
The next sentence was quiet as Seb focused on his feet. “Yeah, we probably should bring it.”
Tim sympathised and tried not to make a big deal of it, simply picked up the bucket and handed it to Seb. “Can you hold it while I get the door?”
Seb took it and then glanced at the door uncertainly.
It took Tim a couple of seconds to catch on. “There are no shifters nearby, I promise.” Taking Seb’s chin between his fingers, he tilted his head until their gazes met. “I meant what I said earlier. I’ll keep you safe.”
Being this close was playing havoc with Tim’s senses. Even in the dark entranceway, Seb’s eyes were the blue-green of the sea, and so focused on Tim, it made his breath catch. Seb’s scent wrapped around him as if he’d bathed in it. It would be so easy to lean forward and just—Jesus.
Snapping his eyes shut, Tim let go of Seb and gritted his teeth. “Come on.”
Tim’s car, an older model Honda CRV, was only a little way down the street, but Seb was shivering by the time they reached it.
“Shit, sorry,” Tim apologised. “I never thought to bring your coat.”
Being a shifter, the cold barely affected him, and he’d forgotten to suggest the coat with his mind occupied by things other than Seb’s well-being. He was a doctor, to both humans and shifters; he was better than this.
Seb shrugged as he manoeuvred himself into the car. “It’s not your fault. Who would have thought I’d need one in bloody September. I’ll live.”
Tim shut the car door and hurried round to the driver’s side, eager to get the car started and warmed up. Glancing over at Seb, he saw he had the bucket positioned on his lap. Ready.
Seb caught him looking and grimaced. “Thought I’d better have it handy, just in case.” As though embarrassed by the whole thing, he turned and looked out the window, and Tim pulled the car out into the street.
The hospital was about a twenty-minute drive at this time of the morning. Ten minutes into the journey, Seb groaned and rested his head against the seat back.
“You feeling okay?” Tim spared him a glance and noted the paleness of his skin and the sheen of sweat across his forehead.
“Not really,” Seb replied through gritted teeth. His fingers curled around the edge of the bucket and held on. “Can you put some music on, or talk, or—” He breathed through his mouth and his knuckles turned white. “Just so you don’t have to—” and then he promptly leaned over the bucket and threw up.
Tim turned the radio on loud and concentrated on the road. Seb would no doubt be embarrassed enough without him watching. He was no stranger to people being ill, obviously, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the smell of sick. He cracked the front windows on both sides, just an inch or so to let in some fresh air.
Seb groaned again, but thankfully slumped back in his seat, finished. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tim watched him. Some colour had returned to his cheeks, but it was hard to tell if that was him feeling better or just being embarrassed.Probably a bit of both.Seb turned his head to the slightly open window and sighed.
