Page 115 of The Side Road
‘Seriously, I don’t think I’m going to survive.’ She blew into her mug.
‘You will. And I have something to help you sleep.’
‘I don’t need something to help me sleep. I need something for the pain.’ She sipped her tea. ‘When will Snood be back?’
‘He’s having a sleepover at my place. Tash and Mary are over the moon. They’ve made a kennel out of pillows in her bedroom.’
Mia smiled.
When the toast was ready, he covered it with butter and spread the jam right to the edge. Then he cut it into four and handed her the plate. ‘Broken bones need food.’
She ate slowly, enjoying the combination of hot tea and sweet toast. It was a memorable meal. ‘You make excellent tea and toast,’ she said.
‘It’s my speciality. Now, we’re going to get you undressed and into the bath.’
‘I can do that myself.’
‘How?’ He looked straight at her, expecting an answer.
Holding back tears, she breathed through her nose. Tired and bewildered, she realised the best course of action was submission. ‘I feel like a child,’ she said.
‘You’re not a child. You’re an adult with a broken arm who needs help. Surrender.’
She nodded.
First, he kneeled at her feet and slipped off her shoes, then he removed her socks. If circumstances were different, she might have run her hand through his beautiful curls.
He instructed her to stand. Deftly, he undid the buttons on her jeans and pulled them down over herthighs. With the help of her free hand, she wiggled out of them.
As he removed the sling, she closed her eyes. Having his face so close was difficult. At any moment, she thought he might lean closer and kiss her neck or whisper something impossibly romantic in her ear. Even touching her hair, tucking the loose strands behind her ear, would be lovely. She tilted her head a little, hoping.
‘Arms up,’ he ordered.
Opening her eyes, she raised her arms.
Carefully, he helped her out of her T-shirt, pulling it over her head and tugging at the sleeve of her broken arm. Her bra clip was next. As he pulled the straps over her shoulders, she drew her arms over her breasts.
Then he wrapped her in a towel. With her free hand, she clutched the ends under her chin. What she needed right now was a hug. It didn’t have to be a big, consuming bear hug that squeezed the life out of her. He could simply wrap his arms around her, pull her into his chest and kiss the top of her head. Or her forehead. Or the side of her face. That would be enough to sustain her. To know he still loved her. The kiss was optional; the hug was not.
With her eyes closed, she waited. When no hug was forthcoming, she opened her eyes and turned to face him. ‘Oliver?’
‘Yes, Mia.’ He was covering her plaster with the waterproof sleeve.
‘There are things I need to say to you. I’ve been thinking and?—’
‘It can wait until you’re feeling better. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Oh, so you’re staying?—’
‘Not overnight. I can’t…’
‘Of course. I didn’t expect…’
‘I’ll run you a bath.’
In Mia’s wardrobe,Oliver found a pair of sweatpants, a clean T-shirt, and her favourite pink hand-knitted socks. Then, picturing her wearing her pink socks and nothing else, he replaced them with a navy pair. Her underwear drawer was an adventure he was not looking forward to – so many memories. He was in and out in record time.
When she was out of the bath and dry, he passed her the clothes but waited by the bathroom door in case she needed help.
