Page 59 of How You See Me
I chug them down with half the bottle and mentally prep for the walk of shame, something that can no longer be delayed. He'll want to get back on the road, and I've caused him enough trouble already.
The bright morning sun washes over me as I open the van door, but it’s less shocking to the system than the sight of Hayes cooking at the campfire. He’s backlit by the sun and looking like a Hallmark movie.
He rises and reaches out to help me down. “Feeling better?”
“I’m feeling awake, but that’s about it.” I take his hand and step onto the cool grass. “Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
“No. But does smell heavenly.”
He lowers me to the chair beside his. I don’t need assistance, but I also don’t have the heart to tell him. Is it wrong to like how he takes care of me? Jordan has been the only man to show me this level of concern since our father died, and it feels different coming from your sibling.
“You should try eating. I made pancakes—thought they might be easier on your stomach.”
He leans away, fidgets with something beside him, then twists back to me.
Laughing, I accept the plate he passes over. “You didn’t.”
He smiles, a real one that shows his teeth, and there’s no possible preparation for what his authentic joy does to me. I melt instantly.
“Are these red velvet pancakes?”
“Maybe.”
I shake my head and take a bite, dropping it back on the plate when I taste them. “With sprinkles?”
“It’s not cake, but it’s the closest I could get under the circumstances.”
“Hayes.” Tears sting my eyes. It’s ridiculous to cry over pancakes, but it’s not the food.
“What’s wrong?” His caring instinct has him reaching for me, but he thinks better of it and drops his hand to the chair instead.
He’s not getting away with that. Setting the plate in my lap, I take his hand and hold it with both of mine. “You really are the sweetest. I don’t deserve this after all the trouble I caused you.”
He goes still at first, and I wonder if he’s as rattled by my touch as I am with his.
He exhales. “You had a little too much to drink. It happens to everyone.”
“What about my squeaky-clean skin? Did you do that?”
He sits back, removing his hand from my grasp. He doesn’t need to say anything. The truth burns in his eyes.
The scene begins to unfold in my foggy brain. “Let me get this straight . . .” I take a deep breath. “You carried mefrom the restaurant to the van, drove us here, then washed me.”
A towel and washcloth hang from a nearby line.
“You don’t remember?”
“No. That’s not the point.”
“What is the point, Josie? You were sick. I didn’t think you’d want to get into bed with gunk on you.” Turning to the fire, he yanks the pan off the rack and drops it to the dirt. “I washed it off in the only way I could think of that, hopefully, wouldn’t make you feel violated when you found out.”
“You could never make me feel that way, Hayes.” I trust him more deeply than I have anyone, other than Jordan. “You’re the most considerate person I’ve ever met.”
His weary eyes drop to his lap. “I don’t know about that.”
“You didn’t have to take care of me last night. You didn’t have to wash me or do it in the most difficult way out of respect. You didn’t have to go out of your way to make my favorite cake for breakfast either.” I hold up the pancake. “But you did it to make me feel special.” Setting the plate aside, I reach for his hand resting on his thigh “You, Hayes Montgomery, are a good man.”
