“I put on my splint. The Velcro wasn’t quite straight, and then I wanted to get changed, but the material got caught. Not to mention my wrist iskillingme.”
I hummed, sitting down on the bed next to her, examining her position.And ignoring the lacy black bra I could see peeking out.
Pulling at her shirt, I tried to find an easy way to get her out. “I know you’re supposed to keep injuries lifted, but I think this takes it to a new level of dedication.”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh.”
“I didn’t laugh. I made a joke.”
“Same difference,” Inés grumbled, her voice breaking into a whine. “Just get me out of here, please.”
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.” I tried my best to sound confident. My fingers gripped at the pink cotton, trying to find the best angle. “Here, let me... I’ll pull, you stay still.”
“Fine.” She breathed in deeply as I fumbled with her shirt. “Mierda,” she said, her tone pained and aching.
I stopped immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
“Itallhurts. Keep going.”
Swallowing down my reservations, I realized that the best way was going to be a quick movement to break the grip that the Velcro had on her shirt. I counted down, telling her to brace herself, before one sharp movement.
She cried out, but the shirt released, and as cautiously as I could, I pulled it over her head.
“Are you okay?” I asked, growing desperate for two simple words. “I’m fine.” Or“I’m good.”
Instead, I got three.
“I will be.” But the ache was clear across her face, a grimace of pain that didn’t dissipate after a moment. It remained, etching itsway across her features. I wanted to raise my hand, run it along her face, see if I could erase the discomfort with a soothing touch.
She moved slowly, stretching her arms and shoulders. My eyes couldn’t help but catch on the obvious dip of her delts and shoulders, the strong line of her neck.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth was suddenly dry. Not to mention that she was now just sitting there in only a black bra and shorts. l was mesmerized by the contrast of the delicate lace against her strong muscles, the athleticism and strength in her body growing harder to ignore.
“Thanks for helping,” she said, settling and looking a fraction more comfortable. “I thought I might die in that position.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, watching as she began to fiddle with the strap of her splint, trying and failing to set it straight with one hand. “Here, let me.” I reached out to her injured hand.
She moved away, determination clear on her face, her teeth gritted, her attention singular. “I can manage.”
“And risk getting caught again in another shirt straitjacket?” She paused. “I know I’m not themostfashion-conscious person, but I don’t think that particular style is going to be featured inVogueanytime soon.”
Inés didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at me, but I felt grateful when she stretched out her right arm towards me. I worked fast, pulling the straps tight, sneakily assessing the injury. Her wrist was clearly painful, but I knew she’d been dealing with this for a long time. Any advice I had would pale in comparison to her experience.
I pretended not to notice how soft her skin felt under my fingertips.
“There,” I said, presenting my work to her. She inspected the splint, flexing her fingers to test the tightness.
When she was satisfied, she murmured in that soft, silky voice I wasn’t sure I’d ever grow used to, “Thanks... again.”
She moved away, grabbing a baggy old grey T-shirt from her bed, a slogan printed on the front.
“It’s my pleasure.” Immediately, my cheeks burned hot at the sound of my own words.Pleasure? HELP!!! “I mean, I’m happy to help. I know these things can be hard on your own. Having a second person to help can be a godsend. Not that I think I’m a godsend. Anyone could do it. I swear—”
Inés shut me up with one word. “Chloe.”
“Yes?”
“Why exactly are you in my room?” The fact she had omitted mentioning my runaway-train mouth had me both grateful and cringing all over again.
