“Maybe those infamous stages of grief apply here as well. It’s definitely a loss you’re dealing with. The loss of your old life, your old self.”
“I don’t even need a therapist when I have you,” he joked, and we both smiled. If he needed to tackle this with humor, I would go right along with it.
“And I charge considerably less too.”
That got another chuckle out of him, but then his amusement faded. “I’m so overwhelmed. I don’t even know where to begin.”
My first instinct was to show him the list I had already made while he was asleep, but my better, smarter side won. “You don’t need to do anything today. You can take a day to process.”
He slowly blinked. “That’s…not what I was expecting from a man who’s hardwired to solve every problem he encounters.”
Was that how he saw me? I suppose it could be worse. “I’ll readily admit I’m a fixer, but I also know that sometimes, people need time before they’re ready to jump into action mode.”
His eyes narrowed. “You totally have a list already, don’t you?”
Busted. I grinned sheepishly. “Yes. But I wasn’t gonna bring it up until you were ready. It just…” I sighed. “It helps me when I feel powerless, the sense that I’m doing something. I can’t stand sitting on my ass and doing nothing while you…struggle.”
“Let’s see your list.”
“It can wait. You can take a day and?—”
“Let me see the list.”
Okay then. I grabbed my phone and pulled it up, then handed it to Forest, watching as he read it.
“Most of this stuff makes sense, but what do you mean by ADA accommodations?”
“I did a little research, but this diagnosis is considered a disability, so under the Americans with Disabilities Act, your employer is legally obligated to make reasonable accommodations to make doing your job possible.”
He still looked puzzled. “Like what?”
“Like an assigned parking spot close to the entrance so you don’t have to walk too far. Once you can drive again, that is. Or an assigned classroom or lecture hall that’s closest to the entrance, a breakroom, your office, or whatever. But it also includes adjusting your teaching schedule so you spread your hours evenly across all days, creating a day of rest in the middle of the week. Or ask to be able to stay seated while teaching instead of having to stand. I mean, the list is endless. You just have to figure out what would make your life and job easier, and if it’s reasonable, your employer has to accommodate you.”
“You really did some research, huh?”
I shrugged. “I had some time on my hands.”
“Well, I appreciate it… But it’s a smaller college. Does that make a difference?”
“Doesn’t matter. It all falls under ADA. Only companies with fewer than fifteen employees are exempt, and not even that in all states. Your college is definitely required by law to comply.”
He bit his lip, considering. “I can think of a lot of things that would make doing my job easier. The assigned parking spot would be a big one once I can drive again. Right now, I have plenty of parking choices, but I’m sure that will change once the fall semester starts. If my classes don’t start first thing in the morning, that may mean parking all the way in the back.”
“Okay, so that’s an easy one. What else?”
He blew on his mug of tea as he pondered it. “It’s hard to say when I don’t have my schedule yet, so I’ll have to give that some thought.”
“Why don’t you start a list on your phone so you can add to it whenever you think of something?”
He met my eyes, his lips pressed together as if he were suppressing a smile. “Does it have to be my phone, First Sergeant Brockway, or can I use paper as well?”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you wanna use is fine, smartass.”
“Why, thank you, Top. I’m relieved I have your permission.”
Smartass indeed, though hearing him call me Top created a whole different reaction inside me than when one of the other guys did it. It gave me flashes of him underneath me, that luscious ass mine for the taking, and me burying myself inside him and…
Fucking hell, I needed to stop this. I’d never thought a simple word could make me hard, but Forest was proving me wrong. Thank fuck I was wearing a loose T-shirt, or I’d be in a seriously embarrassing situation.
