Page 44 of You're All I Need

Opening my mouth, I’m prepared to tell him “nothing” but that’s not what comes out. The worry reflecting in his eyes causes me to stop with the platitude answer and reply with honesty. “I could use some Tylenol.”

He nods, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Where do you keep your pain reliever?”

“There’s some in the medicine cabinet in the half bath,” I reply, pointing to the doorway behind him.

“All right, how about you head upstairs and take a hot shower. I’ll make you some tea and get the medicine ready, and when you’re done, I’ll help you get settled so you can relax.”

My eyebrows draw up in question. “You know how to make tea?”

“Of course I do. I assume you have some tea bags, don’t you?”

I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know,” I reply with a chuckle. “If I do, they’re in the first cabinet with the coffee grounds and spices.”

“All right, Adrienne, you head up and shower. I’ll see what I can do down here,” he replies, lightly clapping his hands together and getting to work.

With a quick little glance back at the man making himself at home in my kitchen, I head upstairs to do as he suggested. I’m anxious to get in the shower, hoping the hot water will do wonders to relieve the ache I feel in my body. The longer I’m up and moving, the more my body starts to protest.

Reaching my bedroom, I carefully strip off my clothes, dropping them on the floor to deal with later. I go to the bathroom and turn on the water. It takes almost a solid minute before the temperature turns hot enough, and while it’s heating, I pull my hair up in a high ponytail so it doesn’t get wet. Lord knows it’ll take forever to dry, and I don’t have the patience or energy to deal with that tonight. The moment the water is hot, I adjust the temperature setting and step inside.

The water is pure heaven.

It borders on too hot but does wonders on my sore muscles. I don’t know how long I stand here, just letting the water run over my body, but it’s absolutely blissful. Like better than sex and multiple orgasms, just don’t tell Caden I said that. He’d use his magical cock to prove me wrong, and I just don’t have the energy right now to give it a try.

When the water starts to turn cold, I shut off the valve and grab a towel. I quickly run it across my body, grateful my back doesn’t protest too much when I bend over to dry my legs. With my towel wrapped around my body, I flip off the light and fan and return to my bedroom.

Where I find Caden.

He’s watching me, but this time, it’s different. His gaze isn’t full of lust and desire. He’s not looking at me like he’s ready to eat me alive. He’s…concerned, and frankly, it throws me a little off-kilter. “How do you feel?”

“Like a million bucks,” I state with a smile, even though that’s not entirely accurate.

He snorts and reaches for a bottle of water sitting beside a steaming mug of tea on my nightstand. As he hands over the beverage, he holds out his other hand, which contains two small tablets. “Ibuprofen.”

I nod and reach for the pain reliever. I swallow the tablets down with a healthy drink of water and return the bottle to the nightstand. As I do, I brush past him, the man who’s still standing in very close proximity to where I am. I catch the scent of his cologne or woodsy soap or whatever bodywash he uses, and it sends tingles through my veins.

Then, just as quickly as his nearness is felt, his disappearance follows. I turn and watch as he moves to my dresser and starts pulling open drawers. He finds my pajamas, which consist of mostly shorts and tank tops, and starts digging. He’s careful about it, trying not to make a mess of the contents in the drawer, and eventually comes up with one of my large T-shirts. It’s oversized on purpose, roomy and comfortable when I need it, usually when I’m on my period. But instead of pairing it with shorts or sweatpants, he finds a basic pair of cotton panties.

“Here,” he says, holding up the shirt to help me put it on.

With my gaze locked on his, I drop the towel and raise my arms. He slides the shirt down, making sure my arms and neck are in the correct holes. His fingers brush against my bare skin, but it’s not sexual. It’s…comforting.

When the shirt falls into place, he holds up the pair of panties he found. “Want me to help you? I’m usually muchbetter at removing them, but I could give this a shot,” he teases, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smirk.

“I think I can handle this part, cowboy,” I tell him, snatching the panties from his hand and shimmying them up my legs into place. “Thank you.”

“The internet says to avoid TV because of the flashing lights and whatnot, but you could try some soft music if you need background noise,” he says, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.

My mouth falls open in surprise. Did he research medical issues associated with my fall?

As if reading my mind, he gives me a sheepish grin and confirms, “I might have looked up head injuries. I don’t think you have a concussion, but I’m not a doctor. Just in case, I think we should follow the concussion protocol.”

“Protocol?”

He nods. “I’ll wake you up every couple of hours. You don’t feel like vomiting, do you?”

I shake my head, more out of shock than in answer.

“Okay, that’s good. If you start to feel nauseous, we’re going to urgent care, okay?”

---