He swivels his chair until he’s facing me, then turns mine so we’re eye to eye and knee to knee. “You are never a burden.”
There’s no humor in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Nothing but sincerity. He means what he says. Of this, I have no doubt.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“You...” he gently flicks my nose with his forefinger. “... are staying here until you’re cleared by the doctor. Maui and I will be at your beck and call. If you need something, I don’t want you to hesitate to ask. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Eat.”
“Yes, sir.”
We both turn our focus back to our plates and dig in.
When I’m done, I attempt to pull my uninjured leg up to hug to my chest, but it hurts too much. Every muscle in my body hurts. “Can you remind me what the doctor said again? Parts of yesterday are fuzzy.”
He turns in his chair to face me again, taking my hands in his. “He said you’re lucky to be alive.”
I nod.
“You may not have noticed, but you’re covered head to toe in cuts and bruises. You have a serious concussion and a sizable lump on the back of your head. We need to monitor your headaches and watch for other signs like dizziness and vomiting. You cracked a rib and tore the tendons from your ankle bone, but you miraculously don’t need surgery. Somehow, you didn’t even need a single stitch. If you stay off your feet and wear your boot like you’re supposed to, you should be good in a few weeks.”
“But I don’t need to stay here that long, do I?”
Releasing my hands, he takes our plates to the sink, keeping his back to me. “You’ll stay as long as you need to stay, Daisy.” His voice is terse.
“That came out wrong.”
He turns on the faucet and starts rinsing dishes.
I carry my glass to the sink as an excuse to be near him. I rub my hand across his back. “You have work and the team. You don’t need a charity case on top of everything else. A burden is the last thing you need.”
His head hangs between his shoulders, his grip on the plate so intense his knuckles turn white. The water runs over the dish, but he makes no move to put it in the dishwasher. If I’m not mistaken, he’s gathering himself to find a calm I’m clearly not bringing him.
When he finally speaks, he doesn’t face me, so I stare at his profile. His straight nose, square jaw, and corded neck. He’s so pretty.
“You are not a burden, and I will take as much time off to help you heal as it takes. I will not repeat myself again. So, hear my words and take them in... You. Are. Not. A. Burden.”
Oh, this man.
I lean into his side, wrapping one arm around his waist. With my free hand, I turn off the water, guiding his hand with the plate into the sink.
He finally releases the dish and wraps me up in his embrace. I bury my sore face in his chest. “Thank you.”
“I’m always here for you.”
“I know.”
“Please don’t push me away. Not right now.”
“I won’t. If you want to be my beck and call boy, your wish is my command.”
“Good.”
We stay wrapped up in each other for several minutes. Swaying to a song our bodies sing whenever they’re this close.
“As much as I hate to let go of you, I need to take a shower. I feel gross.”
