Shit.
Busted.
I glanced over at the door to find the most handsome, perfect, gorgeous,sexyginger snap standing in a soft T-shirt and blue jeans by the door to his room.
He was freshly showered and shaved, and he was holding a tray with what looked like pancakes and tea. There was even a tiny vase with a single lily balanced in the corner.
“Uhmm…” I stumbled over my words, somehow unable to complete a sentence.
Fuck, he was so good-looking.
He had his little grumpy scowl on his face. The one that made a crease between his perfect eyebrows. I just wanted to smooth it out with my thumb and then annoy him until it came back.
“You’re on strict bed rest, buddy. Lay back down.”
Buddy?! Who the fuck was he calling buddy?
I snorted and forced myself to give him a glare. It wasn’t my best work. I was finding it almost impossible to find that dead place I needed to get to if I was going to successfully push him away.
Remembering how broken and sad he had looked when I told him I didn’t want him anymore, I just couldn’t do it. The guilt that welled in my chest at the thought was unbearable.
Maybe I should just be straight up with him.
“Ginger snap…”
His lip twitched up at his nickname, and he stalked into the room, putting the tray of food on the end table next to me. When he looked down at my fully exposed and naked body, I almost made a joke about him checking me out, but it quickly became apparent that wasn’t where his mind was. He crouched down and immediately checked the bandages on my side and chest, frowning to himself. I shivered as he passed the most gentle touches over my bare skin. He glanced up to meet my gaze, that little crease still perched stubbornly between his brows.
I caved and reached forward, cupping his face with my hand and using my thumb to smooth it away.
His ‘stern boi’ look softened, and he touched a hand to my chin, causing me to swallow.
“How are you feeling, angel? Are you experiencing any discomfort in your abdomen? Any intense pain?”
He called me angel again…
Why did he keep calling me that?
“No…” I whispered, swallowing once more.
Iwasin pain, but it was more of a dull, constant throb. The kind of pain that faded into the background if I stayed still enough.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom? Is that why you’re trying to get up? I can help you walk if you need a hand. We can also geta wheelchair for you if you think that would be easier. It might give you more autonomy while you’re healing.”
I snorted, disgusted with the idea of him seeing me wheel around in a chair like some sort of invalid.
“I don’t need a fucking wheelchair,” I snapped, and his mouth twitched again.
“Well, okay. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
I scowled. “No.”
“Then what are you doing trying to get out of bed, Callum?”
Dropping my gaze, I tongued my lip ring.
I had to tell him that I needed to leave. Why was it so hard?
When it became apparent I wasn’t going to be able to answer him, he sighed.
