“If I say yes, will you quit fucking crying?”
I nodded, as he stepped back, then started to move around to the other side of the room.
What the hell was he doing?
I pulled the comforter up to my neck and watched as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, showing me… showing me the most incredible body in possibly the world.
It hit me then I hadn’t masturbated in forever. When he’d been staying with me, I’d managed to sneak in a rub or two in the shower while he’d slept, being as quiet as possible.
I was like a person lost in the desert, seeing water for the first time.
Supple muscles lined his chest and arms. Sleek, hard ones formed abs that would make a washboard jealous. A dark sprinkling of hair trailed from his belly button down into the formfitting sweatpants he had on.
But…
“What are you doing?” I croaked as he pulled the comforter back.
He slipped into the bed. “You’re still sick, and I want to go to sleep.”
I must have made a face of not understanding because he gave me another one of his long looks as he settled in.
He blew out one of his exasperated breaths while he was at it. “Do you remember when you were out of it and you were up against me all that time?”
He was talking about the bare-chested cuddling. I nodded. I was never going to forget that. I was going to be ninety and thinking about it.
“There’s something in us that speeds up healing, like you figured out,” he said. “In close proximity, it can affect others.”
Ohhhhh.
Oh, oh, oh.
So it hadn’t been cuddling to make me feel better. He had been trying to actually help me. Heal me.
I almost felt disappointed.
Almost.
That comforter got dragged up his chest as he kept explaining. “You’re still sick; I can smell it. I know you’ve been trying to tough it out. You need to go to the doctor,” he went on, giving me one more long look. “And you said you didn’t want to be alone.”
“I….” I mean… I had said that. He was right.
We were adults. I didn’t need a pillow wall between us. We weren’t five. I’d gladly slept on top of him while we’d been in the woods. And if I was overwhelmed at his generosity, then that was on me. He was going out of his way to be nice.
I nodded slowly, seeing him again through another lens. He really was a grumpy son of a bitch with a heart of gold. He tried to hide it, but it was clear as day.
“Okay. And you’re right, I should go to a doctor. I’ve felt like a garbage can on fire.” Setting my shoulders, I nodded at him. “Thank you for everything.”
I was glad I didn’t expect anything because that was exactly what I got.
Alex looked at me, and from one yawn to another, he rolled onto his side, away from me, without another word.
Not a “you’re welcome,” a “no problem,” nothing.
I’d never admit it, but I felt pretty relieved having him here.
Old grumpy ass.
Because I could have done a lot worse.
