When everything is away, I spot the ground beef in the fridge and figure the only way we’re eating is if I cook. Normally, I’d order out, but Alex has been bitching about that since he can’t go to the gym to work it off. He’s worried about gaining weight for when he goes back on the ice. So I guess I’m going to have to make dinner.
“What are you doing?” he calls out from the couch after I’ve been banging around in here for a while.
“Mind your own business,” I call back.
He mutters something, but I don’t hear what it is. He doesn’t bother me again, and I’m able to get meatballs made, pasta cooked, and even some garlic bread put in the oven.
When everything is done, I glance at the dining table he recently purchased after calling me a heathen for not having one. It’s where we’ve been eating dinner. It’s not far from the couch, but even a few steps will be difficult for him now, so I head to the table, pull the chairs out, and drag it to him.
“What?” I ask when I find him watching me with wide eyes.
“I’m not incapable of walking,” he says.
“Pretty sure you are,” I say.
“I’m buying you tray tables, because this is ridiculous.” He gestures to the table taking up most of the space in my living room.
I hold my hand out. “Ice.” He frowns. “Give it to me, Alex.” That causes him to smirk. He doesn’t move, and so I swipe the ice from his knee. “It’s been much longer than fifteen minutes.”
“But it feels good!” he calls after me in a whine.
“You’ll get it back later.”
I toss it into the freezer, leaving the towel on the counter. I make us each a plate, piling the garlic bread onto a separate one. I get everything to the table without dropping it, but have to go back for drinks and the parmesan cheese. By the time I get back to the table, Alex is already digging into his food like a wild animal.
“I haven’t eaten anything today,” he says with a mouthful.
I shake my head. “You know, maybe you should put your energy into taking care of yourself.”
He smiles as I take a seat on the couch.
“But I like it so much more when you do it.”
I don’t answer that because I don’t need him getting ideas.
Alex puts the hockey game on, and we watch it while we eat. The Penguins get crushed, which isn’t all that surprising.
We each devour two plates of food, and when we’re done, I clean everything up, move the table back, and put the leftovers away. I take the ice pack from the freezer, wrap it in the towel, and hand it off to Alex.
“Told you I’d give it back.”
He smiles as he takes it, putting it on his knee. I sit on the edge of the couch and look down at his leg.
“Can I look at it?”
“You just want to get me out of my pants,” he mutters with a smile.
“If I wanted to get you out of your pants, I’d say it and you’d do it.” He sucks in a breath, clearly affected by my words. “Now show me.”
Alex unbuttons his jeans, shoving them down and lifting his ass to get them off. I pull the bottoms to help, because he looks like he’s about to cry from the amount of pain he’s in.
I ignore the way his boxer briefs hug every inch they’re touching, and keep my gaze on his knee.
“It’s swollen,” I say. “Doesn’t look like anything is broken or worse than it was. Other than the pain.”
“I landed on my other knee. Just twisted this one.”
I nod, running my fingers along his skin, causing goosebumps to break out.
