I started to protest, but I didn’t have it in me. I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Move on in. There’s a guest bedroom at the end of the hall where you can put your things.”
“You’re sure?”
“I couldn’t open this bottle and I can’t imagine trying to shower or cook like this. And this is just the first day. I’ll probably feel worse before I feel better. I think you’re right. I need some help. Welcome home, roomie.”
I woke the next morning to sounds coming out of my kitchen. Confused and groggy, I tried to get out of bed to investigate, but as soon as I moved, my entire body reminded me why that was a bad idea. The pain was worse than it had been the day before and I whined and settled back down. I knew that wouldn’t last though—I needed to pee.
I took a deep breath and tried to steel myself to get up, bracing for the pain. Unfortunately, the scent of bacon cooking wafted through the house, which normally would’ve been tantalizing, but instead made a wave of nausea roil through me.
I stayed quiet for a minute or two, letting my stomach settle before calling out. “Micah?”
“Just a sec,” he called back. A few seconds later, he stepped into the room, dressed for the day in khakis and a polo shirt. “You’re awake.” He gave me a bright smile.
I nodded and regretted it immediately. My head hurt just as much as the rest of my body. “Yeah,” I croaked. “Would you be able to help me?”
He stepped closer. “Of course. What’s up?”
Heat flushed through my face, embarrassed at the request I was about to make. “Bathroom?”
He didn’t bat an eye, just nodded and came to stand at my side. After a couple of false starts, we managed to get me to my feet. I limped down the hallway with Micah’s arm around my back and my good arm across his shoulder, as I leaned heavily on him for support.
We made it to the bathroom and he stopped in the doorway. “Here you go.”
I nodded and swallowed hard, already anxious about the pain. With the door shut behind me, I managed to back myself against the counter to shimmy off my pajama pants. From there, it was just a little side shuffle to the toilet so I could take care of business.
Luckily, I was able to get my pants back up without too much drama. The last thing I wanted to do was ask Micah to help me pull up my pants and boxer-briefs. Absolutely not. I even managed to wash my hands—well, hand—on my own before I called out to Micah to help me back to bed.
Being next to him as we slowly made our way to the bedroom again warmed something in me. I could feel his body heat and as we moved down the hallway, he murmured encouragement at every step.
“Good job. Easy, take it slow. Almost there. Good.”
There was something about the soft tone of his voice that made my throat tighten. It also made my boxer-briefs tighten and my skin burn. I grunted, part frustration, part stubbornness, and—relieved that we'd reached the bedroom—practically threw myself on the bed to get away from his touch.
“Thanks,” I muttered as he helped me settle back into bed.
“Can I get you anything else? Painkillers?”
I nodded, grateful for the suggestion that meant I didn't have to ask.
“Be right back.” He hurried out of the room. A few moments later, he was back with both hands full, including a plate of food in one and—was that my glass beer stein filled with water? He handed me the stein first and then pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket, removing two pills from the bottle and handing them over. “Here. Take these.”
I put the stein on my bedside table. “Yes sir,” I muttered, downing them quickly with a sip of water. When I looked back at Micah, his face was slightly pinker than usual, especially his cheeks. That's weird, I thought, wondering what had caused the blush. With the pills taken, he passed me the plate next. “What's this?” I frowned at the plate, which contained toast, bacon, and two over-medium eggs.
He shrugged casually, as if this was something he did all the time. “I made breakfast.”
“For me?”
Micah chuckled and nodded. “For both of us. Mine is still in the kitchen.”
“But why?”
Another soft laugh. “You can't exist on just protein bars and sports drinks. You need real sustenance.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled. I was genuinely touched. Besides Jackson, I couldn't think of anyone in my life who'd be so helpful and caring while I healed. But it was just the first day. Micah would probably get sick of me soon, and then he’d be gone.
