Page 24 of Finding Alfred
Two Days Later
I woke up and stretched, cringing over the crick in my neck. Sleeping on Jackie’s couch wasn’t the best experience in the world, but if he needed something in the night, I wanted to be there. Not that I didn’t have to fight him for it. Dumbass thought I would take the bed when he had a broken arm and a concussion.
Ow. I showed him. Painfully so.
Making coffee was step two. Once the brew was percolating or whatever it did in the machine, I went to the bathroom, washed my face and hands, and by the time I returned to the kitchen, Jackie was there getting cups out. “Morning.”
“Hey. Stop. I’ve got the coffee this morning.” I shooed him out of the way. “How’d you sleep?”
“Eh…” At least he moved and let me take over.
“Sit.” I pointed to our little café spot. He scooted in between the table and the wall while I poured his coffee and added entirely too much sugar—exactly how he took it. “So what do you want for breakfast?”
“Uh…nothing. I’ll get a bun at the store.”
“What? You’re injured.” I had no clue what he was thinking, but everything inside me screamed that he needed to be nursed. After breakfast, I was putting his ass back in the bed. “Doctor’s orders were rest.” I opened his fridge, surely, he had eggs. No. Lunchmeat and a half a gallon of milk, which was probably sketchy, and condiments. “Guess I need to go to the store.”
“Uh, no. Al, you don’t need to do any of that.”
“I think I do. I’ll run out and get some groceries and breakfast. You, mister, can go back to bed.” I didn’t know how to take care of someone since I never had before, but this was basic.
“I’m up already.” He glared at me over his mug.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t go back.” I nodded my head toward his room.
“You joining me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Deviant.
“I think I just said I’m going to the store.”
He made a dismissive noise. “I’m not a baby, Al. Come on. I’m getting dressed and going to the bookstore.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Watch me.” He headed back into his room. I had to admit, he was pretty sexy wearing sleep pants and with his hair all tousled,curls going every which way, including straight up. But if he thought I was helping him dress, he was crazy.
I watched from the door as he struggled. “Go back to bed.”
“No. If you want to be helpful, get this shirt on me…”
“No. Go back. To. Bed.”
“Stop telling me what to do. Damn, you’re not my mother.”
That infuriated me. He’d been stupid enough to not only dig a damn hole, but to fall in it, and when I tried to help, he pushed me away. “Fuck you, Jackie. I wouldn’t ever be your mother. She obviously wasn’t great for you.” I stormed into the main house to find my keys and maybe his. If I took his keys, he couldn’t go into town.
He followed me out. “Son of a bitch, Al. I trusted you. When I talked to you about my mom. How dare you throw that in my face? Unbelievable.”
“I trusted that you wouldn't do stupid shit. Like falling in a pool.” I picked his keys up and turned around to see him glaring at me.
“Al. This is crazy. Give me my keys.” He held his hand out.
“No.”
“Bullshit. I am not staying cooped up in the house all day.”
He had me so riled up. “Then you can sit on the porch.”
“I can sit at the bookstore.”
