Page 17 of Room 1017

I laughed, grabbing his finger and giving it a shake. “Nothing so extreme. I’m sure we can find some middle ground.”

After choosing a box of granola sweetened with honey, we headed down the back of the store, where I convinced him to try almond milk instead of dairy. He seemed skeptical, but I loved that he was willing to try new things.

“What are some of your favorite meals?” I asked, wandering between the racks of brightly colored produce. When he didn’t answer right away, I turned to look at him and found him looking far too serious. “What’s wrong?”

Peter drew in a deep breath and blew it out on a sigh. “Look, I appreciate all the help you’ve been giving me, and you’re better company than I would’ve guessed, but I really doubt cooking and cleaning are in your job description. Neither is shopping, for that matter.” He searched my eyes, but I didn’t know what he expected to find. “I don’t want to be your charity case. I don’t deal well with pity.”

“It’s not pity,” I told him firmly, which was the absolute truth.

He nodded slowly. “Then what are we doing?”

I had no clue what to tell him, because I didn’t know what this was either. “I-I… just think you deserve it, okay? It wasn’t fair what happened to you. Please… just let me help. Iwantto.”

His eyes softened, and he reached for me, his hand stalling halfway between us before he let it drop back to his side. There was more than a little confusion lingering between us. We were more than patient and therapist, that much was obvious. Beyond that, only time would tell.

A man sidled past our cart, drawing our attention. His focus was on a display of stacked honeydew melons. He was running his hands over each one, not just squeezing butcaressing. It was borderline lewd. My eyebrows jumped as he leaned in and sniffed one obscenely, letting out a little moan. When he licked it, I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

I leaned in to Peter’s ear and hissed, “He’d better buy that one.”

“He licked it, so it’s his,” he whispered back.

Laughing lightened the tension building between us, and I wasn’t ready to let the heavy mood come back just yet.

Smirking, I plucked a peach from the stack on my right. “Are you hungry?” I asked, holding it up and sliding the tip of my finger along the crease, then gave it an exaggerated sniff.

“Famished,” he replied, tearing a banana off a bunch and wiggling it in the air.

We both giggled like teenagers, and I swore I felt it break down another wall between us. We may not have had a clue about what was building between us, but it was there, as sure as the air I breathed. I hadn’t even been aware of how lonely I was, but the more time I spent with Peter, everything began to feel so much lighter. I looked forward to the time we spent together, and it didn’t feel right to get paid for doing something I craved.

Our shopping done, we made our way to the checkout. I noticed sweat had begun to collect along his hairline, and when he handed his credit card over, his hand was shaking. He had pushed himself past his limit today, and he needed to get home, though I knew he would never admit it.

Walking out to the parking lot, I found myself making excuses to touch him, my hand lingering on his back and arm as I helped him into the car. Dammit, I really liked Peter. The more he emerged from the shadows, the more I found I respected his strength, his resilience. He’d given me glimpses of his fears and weaknesses, and I found myself falling for his gentle heart.

Despite all my rules to protect myself, I could feel myself getting too close… but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.

11

Peter

Idrovemyselftothe clinic this morning. It was the first time I’d gotten behind the wheel in almost a year. Such a simple thing I’d taken for granted, and after all this time, the once familiar action felt foreign. The entire drive, I was hyper aware of traffic around me, of the way my body felt with my foot on the pedal, my palms slick with sweat on the wheel.

I told myself that it needed to happen. That my surgeon had given me the go-ahead to resume a broader range of motion. I was getting better every day—but that didn’t mean I was 100%. Bending down to touch my toes sent a searing fire down my spine that took an hour to recover from. And my body…

Scars and all, my body was not yet recognizable as mine. Chalmers had been pushing for me to see the bureau shrink, so maybe that was something I could talk to them about… if I could ever bring myself to go.

Pulling up in the clinic parking lot, I peeled my hands off the steering wheel, knuckles screaming from the chokehold I’d had on it the entire drive. I turned off the engine and yanked the key out of the ignition, blowing out a breath as I willed my heart to steady. I should’ve been excited to take a step back toward “normal,” but honestly, I was shit scared.

I’m not ready…

Knowing that Casey was inside waiting for me, though, was enough to jolt me into action. I carefully maneuvered my way out of the truck, each movement measured and tender. I had a feeling Casey wouldn’t go so easy on me, though. He always pushed me harder than I’d ever pushed myself, even before the injury.

I was playing with fire today, using nothing but a cane to limp up the ramp to the automatic doors. I knew better than to risk taking the stairs. He was waiting at the front desk for me, chatting with their receptionist. He looked up when the door opened, and the smile he gave me warmed my chest and eased my tight nerves. It was hard to imagine now how I’d resented him when he first showed up at the hospital, coaxing those first steps out of me.

“Hey, there you are,” he said. “Hope you’re ready to work.”

“Always.”For you, I thought though didn’t voice out loud. I knew logically that it wasn’t healthy to pin my whole recovery on this one man, but try telling my heart that. He wasn’t mine, not really. Not today, and maybe not even in the future. He might be gone from my life tomorrow, and there was a good chance I would crash if that happened. But, on the other hand, if it got me through my recovery, wasn’t the risk worth it?

“What have you got planned for me today?” I asked, following behind him down the hall toward the changeroom.

---