Page 17 of Fractured Hope
“It isn’t any trouble.” He added bacon and eggs to my plate, then his own.
We ate in companionable silence until we’d finished, and Atticus had started to clean up when he asked, “What are your plans for the day?” He paused to look at me.
Letting out a breath, I rested my forehead on the counter and groaned. “I don’t know. I need to get a job, and I was going tostart looking, but that’s going to be a little difficult with only one working leg and this thing.” I lifted my casted wrist in the air. Frustration bubbled in my gut because I just wanted to get on with my life and be able to stand on my own two feet again after so long under someone’s thumb. Why did I have to be so jumpy?
Atticus’s strong hand settled on my back, rubbing soothing circles. “Why don’t you just come to work with me? You can hang out, and I’m sure I could find something for you to do. We have books, magazines, and the internet if you get bored. I’m on from morning till close, so I would love the company.”
I didn’t have anything else to do; there was very little I could do, injured the way I was. Maybe I could find something there that I could do to help pay Atticus back for all he’d done for me. With that in mind, I sat up. “Okay, when do we need to leave?”
Atticus smiled. “As soon as we’re ready, but don’t rush.” He paused, hesitating for a moment too long. “I was thinking, showering might be a bit awkward for you right now, but would you like me to run you a bath? I have an extra-large tub in my en suite, and that way you could keep your weight off your leg and still get clean,” he said hastily.
The thought of washing away the filth and smell from the last few days of anxiety, sweat, travel, and the hospital, sounded heavenly. I was sure I groaned out loud, if the look on Atticus’s face was anything to go by. After all the impromptu sponge baths with damp paper towels at the bus station restrooms and the overuse of spray deodorant, I still smelled gross. Being clean would be amazing! “You sure? You won’t be late for work, though, will you?” I asked, then chewed on my lower lip.
“No, no. I had Seb open, so he should be fine there until tenish. So, was that a yes?”
“Yes, please!” I smiled at the grin that crossed his face.How could me simply accepting a bath make him so happy?
He gently guided me out of the room and down the hall, going slow enough to keep pace with me but not trying to take over. As I entered his room, I took in the unmade king-size bed on the rustic wooden frame. The dark comforter hung half on, half off the mattress. This room was very different from the guest room. You could tell a man lived here with the dark wood and unkempt bed. Plush charcoal carpet covered the floor and white walls brightened things up. The massive, recycled-wood dresser housed a flatscreen TV and a whole bunch of clutter. Moving farther into the room, I realized that the en suite must be behind the head of the bed. It was one of those split add-ons, where you needed to walk through the walk-in closet to get to the en suite. Once I rolled my way awkwardly around, my breath caught in my throat at the huge, stunning bathroom.
“That’s a hot tub, nearly a pool. Not a bath,” I said on a huff as Atticus turned on the water. It really was big enough for three men, one in each corner of the triangle-shaped tub.
“I like to take baths to relax, and I wanted to make sure I could stretch out. It’s not like I could fit in a normal tub.” He gestured at his tall frame.
“I’ll say.” I stared at his tight ass as he bent to check the water. When he glanced over his shoulder and caught me staring, I blushed. His answering smirk told me he didn’t mind me checking him out.Good to know.
Moving farther into the room, I took in the massive two-person shower with multiple showerheads to the right and a tiled wall to the left, which must lead to the toilet. I turned slightly to admire the large dual sinks and mirrors on the wall just inside the door.
“This seems different from the rest of the house. Did you do this yourself?” I asked curiously.
“I did, actually.” He sounded surprised that I’d noticed. “I extended my bedroom and added this whole room and the walk-in closet back there.” His chest puffed up with pride.
“It’s beautiful. Very modern and bright.”
“Yeah, I wanted something dark and cozy for my room, then fresh and light in here.” He seemed slightly embarrassed, like I’d judge him for some perceived design flaw.
The tub was still filling as we waited. “Let me grab you a towel and washcloth,” he said quickly and left the room.
I moved over and sat gingerly on the edge of the tub, sighing in relief at being able to rest and shift the pressure off my arms and legs. The knee walker definitely helped, even if I was a bit unsteady and had to drive the thing left handed. It was a bit bulky and took some maneuvering to get through doorways, but it was better than the alternative. I really was thankful Atticus had insisted on it. I wouldn’t be able to use the crutches for a while, or at least, not until my wrist had healed a little. The pain was still fresh. Should I have another one of my pills or would they make me as groggy as I’d felt yesterday?
Atticus came back in. “What’s wrong?” He walked over, then knelt in front of me.
Shaking my head, I said, “It’s nothing, I was just thinking about the pain pills. I was wondering if I should take one. I feel okay but don’t want to take one and feel all groggy and shit if I’m coming to work with you.”
Atticus reached over and shut off the water, standing up. “I have some ibuprofen if you’d prefer, but if you’re in pain you should probably take your prescription. Don’t push yourself. Youdohave broken bones, and they need rest to heal.”
Atticus’s gaze flicked to me, then the tub and back. He fidgeted in place, hesitating. “Do you need some help, ah.... Um.... You know.... Ah, getting undressed and in the tub?” He scratched the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly.
I froze. Well,shit. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Looking at Atticus, then my foot, my face burned. “Ah, y-yeah, please. I probably w-will.” This was all kinds of awkward.
Atticus moved so he was standing in front of me and gazed into my eyes as he carefully lifted my hoodie, waiting for my nod of approval before easing it over my head. My shirt went next. Vulnerability rose up in me as Atticus carefully ran his fingers over the healing bruises on my ribs. I’d forgotten about them with my newer injuries. But he knew my story.
He knelt in front of me and studiously loosened and removed my walking boot and the fabric wrapping underneath. He was painstakingly careful and didn’t jostle or touch my injury more than necessary. I was still shocked to see the stark bruising and discoloration on my foot and my swollen ankle. The visible signs of my injury seemed to make it throb even more.
Atticus gently guided me to stand on my good leg as he methodically pushed down my sweats and underwear, all at once. I willed my cock not to react to this caring stranger kneeling before me. He focused on his task of removing the clothes over my injured foot. He gestured for me to sit back on the edge of the tub. I gasped at the cold tub on my bare butt.
Muttering a “sorry,” he removed my pants from my other foot. Atticus then helped brace me with an arm over his shoulder as he lowered me onto the curved seat of the tub. He made sure I was settled and that my foot and wrist were okay before picking up the washcloth and a bottle of bodywash. Without any hesitation, he proceeded to wash me.
The warm water felt so good on my skin that I leaned my head back on the edge of the tub and closed my eyes, trying to relax into the sensations of warmth and comfort that Atticus offered.
