Page 11 of Change
How bossy, but I was thirsty—and if he was going to sit here and wait on me hand and foot, then it was all good. So even though I felt like an idiot, I obeyed. Besides, my hands were full holding up my towel. Obviously, this was the most logical solution.
Although, the way he watched me was growing both amusing and increasingly disturbing.
Hadn’t anyone ever taught him it was rude to stare?
“Good girl.” He put the bottle on my vanity before picking up the clean sheets. “Now go take a bath while I clean things up out here.”
Okay, nowthiswas entirely unnecessary. After all, while menstruation was a natural bodily function, it was still rather gross; plus, it was more than a bit embarrassing to think thatDamenwas going to clean up after me. “You don’t need to—”
He stepped forward, pressing his finger to my mouth. “Will youpleasejust let me take care of you for once?”
Just once? Was he insane?
Didn’t he realize how much he’d taken care of me already?
Despite that, I didn’t protest as he pushed his hands against my lower back and gently nudged me toward the bathroom door.
“Are you sure you can stay?” I ducked under Damen’s arm as held the glass door open for me. It was still early, and the coffee shop wasn’t entirely filled yet, but there were a good number of students already present. My table was still empty in the corner. “Dr. Stephens might have work for you to be doing this morning.”
“Work can wait.” Could it really? Dr. Stephens was a no-nonsense sort. But as he followed me into the room and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but not be entirely concerned about it either. “Let me help you get settled in. I’ll bring you a coffee before I go. He’ll understand.”
I doubted that. It was just last night when Dr. Stephens was bragging about fae having inhuman levels of pain tolerance.
Besides, there was no plausible excuse Damen could give for his absence that wouldn’t be embarrassing for me.
“Sit.” He’d continued to issue commands in that certain way that made my neck grow warm, and he ignored the stares from the other patrons as he pulled out my chair. When I didn’t move fast enough, he touched my elbow, leading me into the set. “I’ll get you your coffee.”
“But—” Did he even know what I drank? I wasn’t sure he’d paid that much attention. Yet the man was on the move before I could get his attention. He’d moved to the back of the line, nose already buried into that bright red monstrosity of a phone.
This was nice and all, and I did like the attention. It was thanks to his efforts that after my bath, and medicine, I was beginning to feel human again.
But only God could help him if he returned with one of those espresso-spiked calamities he called a latte.
My phone chimed, and I pulled out the device. The tiny charms dangled against my hand as I peered into the screen.
A text fromDamen?
I peered at him—the man was pointedly ignoring me now.
Why was he texting me? We were literally ten feet away from each other!
Damen:Have I told you that you are a vision this morning? It’s almost like you dressed up this way just for me. If I had a rose for every beautiful thing about you, I’d be walking in my garden forever.
I lowered the phone slightly, narrowing my eyes at the man. Was he having a stroke?
Hewas the one who’d picked out my outfit this morning: a floral print A-line dress with a black-laced slip, combined with dark tights, a pink sweater, and basic flats. And while it might be a bit heavier on the lace than my usual, I wasn’t complaining.
We seemed to have similar tastes in clothes.
Ormaybehe was trying to text someone else and sent the message to me instead.
I frowned as my hand suddenly started to shake. Now that the idea had taken root in my mind, I couldn’t let it go. If he was going to say stupid crap, I’d much rather it be toward me.
But slightly toned down. There was no need for theatrics.
Me:I want a mocha latte please. You should get a decaf for yourself.
I smiled, sending the message. I, too, could flirt. Practicality was the key. Someone had to look after his health and think of long-term matters.
