Page 101 of How You See Me
His hand is warm on my waist. His heart beats against my folded arms. Anchoring and stabilizing. My limbs ache,but not as much as they should from sleeping on the floor. That’s when the mattress registers.
Opening one eye, I find Hayes on his side facing me—his easy, boyish grin the most beautiful morning greeting I could ask for.
“Why did you move me here when I came to you?”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he says simply. “I woke up when I usually do but couldn’t leave you.”
Tears stinging, I press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for taking such good care of me, and for—”
He pulls back enough to shake his head. “You don’t have to thank me. Ever.”
My heart lurches, thinking of everything he did for me. “Are you okay?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you.”
“I’m sore but fine.” I brush my hand along his cheek. “And scared you’d step back from me.”
“Why?”
“This was one more thing you have to deal with, Hayes.”
His forehead drops to rest against mine. “I can assure you that never once crossed my mind.”
I nestle closer, memorizing the feel of him.
“I’m sure you’re ready to get back on the road,” I say reluctantly, even though I want nothing more than to stay right here, wrapped up in him. “But mind if I take a shower first?”
“Of course, not. Let me know when you’re ready.”
I don’t know how long we lie there, but realizing we can’t stay all day—no matter how amazing—I soon relent. “I’m ready.”
Crawling out of bed, he helps me sit up. When I try to take his hands and stand, a sharp pinch shoots through my shoulder. I suck in a hiss of air.
He’s there instantly, supporting me and easing me up with infinite care.
“Well, washing the dirt out of my hair just got more complicated,” I joke but find no humor in it.
His hands skim down my arms and across my back. “I’m happy to help . . . if you want. Can you wear that in the shower?”
I’m dressed in a white crop tank and pajama shorts, nothing close to the outfit I had on last night.
He took care of me. Again.
I force back new emotions bubbling up in my chest. “Yeah. That would be fine.”
While he changes into swim trunks behind me, I doodle on the box of granola bars. I avoid the pain in my shoulder as long as I don’t raise my arm past ninety degrees. Painting, drawing, and restroom breaks should be no problem. It’s the basic functions of getting dressed and showering that present an inconvenience. If the next few days of Hayes helping me with those intimate tasks doesn’t bring us closer, nothing will.
“Ready for your spa treatment?”
I nod, despite the aches pinging my body. “Since you put it that way, definitely.”
We lumber out of the van’s side door, then he stops. “On second thought . . .” He reaches around me to open the passenger side door. “Get in.”
“Why? What about my spa appointment?”
“Still on the books. Just not here.”
Confused but trusting him with every bit of my soul, I climb into the seat while he packs up the lawn chairs. He doesn’t say a word until we’re back on the highway, heading toward Oklahoma City.
