“I’m not—”
“You need it.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
“All right, up we go,” I said as I helped Asher to his feet. He groaned as he stood—his hip was still hurting—and he wobbled a little on his feet. “You alright?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, what kind of help do you want?”
“I don’t need—” He stopped himself abruptly.
I held up my hands mock defensively. “Whatever you say, friend.” I grinned as warmth filled me. I followed Asher to the bathroom and turned on the water before very gently helping him out of his shoulder sling and getting his shirt off him. Once that was done, I passed him the mesh shoulder sling his doctor had recommended for showering. For a moment, he fumbled with it. I didn’t jump in to help right away. I didn’t want to smother him with care.
After another moment, he looked at me. “Will you help me? Please,” he said softly, sounding a little defeated.
“Yeah, of course I can,” I murmured, putting the sling over his shoulder and helping him gently lower his arm into the cradle. “You good?”
Asher nodded. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. Enjoy your shower.”
I made my way to the guest room to get ready for work, feeling warm inside. It was nice to feel useful to someone for once. I was also starting to feel… well, even more attracted to him. I justifiedit by reminding myself that of course I’d find him attractive. He was an objectively good-looking guy. Tall, muscular, broad shoulders, looking every part the sexy construction worker.
That said, I had no business letting myself develop even the tiniest crush on him. I’d had too many experiences with straight guys experimenting and I knew that wasn’t what I wanted to ruin our friendship over.
I yanked a polo over my head and checked myself in the mirror before running my hands through my hair quickly. I’d taken long enough to get dressed, lost in my thoughts, that I suspected Asher would be out of the shower soon.
Sure enough, I heard the shower turn off just as I passed the bathroom. I turned around and stopped outside the bathroom door, knocking twice. “Hey, are you good in there or do you need help?”
There was a long pause. I almost knocked again, but just as I raised my hand, he responded. “No, I think I got it this time.”
“Sounds good. Let me know if you need me.” It had been an adjustment for Asher, getting used to accepting help for so many basic tasks. I knew he missed his independence, but I also knew his body still hurt and it wouldn’t help anyone if he pushed himself too hard too fast.
I lingered in the house, cleaning up the kitchen and finding things to do until Asher emerged from the bathroom, back in his clothes, hair dripping onto his shirt collar. Trying hard not to hover or smother him, I watched as he carefully made his way back to the bedroom before following behind, making sure he got into bed safely.
Once he was settled, I knew it would be safe to leave him alone for a while. “Alrighty, I’m headed to work. Call my cell if anything comes up.”
“Will do.”
With that, I headed out to my car and to the job site to get my day underway.
I returned home—well, to Asher’s home—just around six. It had been a long day on the set, and even though I wasn’t usually needed for every last shot, that day had been particularly labor intensive. I was glad to be home.
I found Asher in his recliner, gaze fixed on the screen as he watched something on TV. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and tell him he shouldn’t be watching TV. “What’s this?”
He glanced at me before nodding at the screen. “Historical romance. Look, I bet he’s about to beg her not to run away. She doesn’t want to marry him, but she doesn’t have a choice, according to her parents. He doesn’t want to force her into a wedding though. She tried escaping over the garden wall, but he caught her just in time.”
I shook my head and chuckled, toeing my shoes off. “Whatever you say, you softie.”
He shrugged. “What, a man can’t enjoy a romance every now and then?”
I laughed and nodded. “Fair. Now, what do you want for dinner?”
His eyes lit up. “Burgers?”
“I can make that happen.” An hour later, I was serving up burgers, bringing our plates into the living room so he didn’t have to make his way to the table.
