Page 78 of Saving You

Ridge made the face he always made when he let out a low hum. He was too far for Oz to catch it, but he pushed away from the wall and walked over, tugging Oz close with two very warm palms against his waist. “I’d rather be awake if you are.”

Oz tilted his face up and was rewarded with the kiss he so desperately wanted. Ridge’s lips were soft and pliant, his tongue wet and a little sour, but Oz realized he didn’t mind at all. He was growing addicted to the taste of him, to the rough feeling of his scruff, to the strength in his grasp as he held Oz in ways Oz had never been held before.

“Did…enough…”

Oz missed most of what Ridge asked and frowned. “Repeat?”

‘Did you get enough rest?’ Ridge asked him in sign.

Oz felt something tingling up his spine. It was a sort of satisfaction of knowing that his partner could and would switch to whatever language Oz needed without missing a beat. There were no pulling faces or making a big show of it. He didn’t need to be coerced or asked twice.

He wished his arms weren’t in so much pain, but it did allow him to be grateful for his CIs for the first time in a good, long while.

“I think so,” he answered, stepping away. He glanced at his pill bottles again before looking over at Ridge.

‘Pain?’

Oz nodded. “I thought it would be this arm.” He waved his crooked elbow that was pinned by the sling. “But it’s everywhere.”

“Baby,” Ridge said aloud, stepping close again, “you were hit by a car. From what I saw from the scene, the road beat up your entire body. It’s going to hurt.”

“Yeah. Also—” He grimaced. “—I got into your bed in my filthy clothes.”

Ridge snorted and rolled his eyes. “I can change the sheets, baby. That’s nothing. But a shower might feel good. And maybe a massage.”

Oz was a little worried a massage might make him feel worse, but maybe with a muscle relaxer? “Can I shower even though I’m all scraped up?”

“No open wounds,” Ridge told him, nipping at his jaw. “Why don’t you let me join you. I’ll get you washed up, and then if you need help getting dressed, I can do that too.”

It all seemed too much, but Oz supposed too much forhimwas enough for other people. He needed to let this happen. He deserved the TLC.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Ridge smiled like that was the best answer in the world and took Oz by the chin, kissing him again. “I’ll make up some soup after. You can take a pill, and if you feel up for it, I’ll rub you down.”

Oz shivered and nodded, leaning in to rest his body against Ridge’s. A shower sounded wonderful, butthis? This was heaven. Ridge rocked him gently from side to side until Oz felt himself relax, and then he pulled back and took his hand, lifting it to his lips.

They were soft over his sore knuckles, and his aching wrist, and his battered palm. “Come on.”

Oz wasted no time following him back into the bedroom, then into the bathroom. It was large and very tidy, and the lights weren’t overly bright, which Oz appreciated. He let Ridge lead him to sit on the closed toilet lid, then started the water before walking back to unstrap Oz from his sling.

“You’re good at that.”

“Training,” Ridge said, then bit his lip as he threaded the strap through the metal loops. With a couple of tugs, it went loose, and Oz ducked his head so Ridge could pull it away from his body. The moment the support was gone, all the pain in his shoulder increased, and he hissed. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Oz shook his head. “No, no. It’s fine.” He didn’t try to flex anything. He kept his arm cradled against his body except when he had to let Ridge maneuver his shirt off him. He expected that to hurt too, but Ridge used all of his trained skills to peel away Oz’s clothes without jostling him too much.

Ridge grinned and kissed his forehead before stepping back to strip, not that there was a lot to remove. His boxers hit the floor, and then he was naked and half-hard, though he didn’t seem aware of it. Or he was good at pretending.

Oz felt himself stiffen a little despite the pain, but he ignored it in favor of taking Ridge’s hand and walking a step forward.

“Waterproof?” Ridge asked, touching his magnet.

Oz shrugged. “Technically, yeah, but I don’t like to keep them on in the shower.” And frankly, he was ready for more silence. He reached up and carefully plucked them from his head, adjusting to the sudden, total loss of sound.

It was like a heavy blanket resting around his shoulders—comforting and safe. He breathed out, then smiled.

‘Okay?’ Ridge asked.