Page 7 of Love Me, Daddy
“I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll head back to my friends; they’ll keep an eye on me.” Nathan attempted to stand, but only managed to lean forward before he groaned and grabbed his head.
“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Loren deadpanned. He was not letting the guy stay by himself. He could call a taxi and get Nathan to his friends. “Where do your friends live?”
“Um…in the city centre.”
Loren hesitated, waiting for more information, but none was forthcoming. “Whereabouts in the city centre?”
“Why would I give you my address? I don’t know you.” Nathan glowered up at him.
Loren tilted his head, acknowledging the answer. “True. But I would’ve thought the fact I didn’t take advantage of how I found you would speak for itself.”
They locked gazes, a world of information passing between them in the silence. Finally, Nathan spoke, “I share a small…space with two of my friends, not far from here.”
Loren narrowed his eyes. Turning over what he knew about Nathan so far, he presumed Nathan skirted the fact he was homeless. “Would you be willing to come home with me and have use of my spare room?”
Whipping his gaze toward him fast enough to have Loren wincing with the potential whiplash, Nathan stared at him open-mouthed. Loren waited for him to finish impersonating a fish and find his words.
“Why would you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Offer your house to a stranger?”
The heavily puckered brow made him look cute, Loren noted. He shrugged. “If I can help someone, why not do it? You don’t need to worry about probing questions or me expecting ‘benefits’ from it. Just a place to go where you can recuperate, and I can ease my mind knowing I’ve not left you to die from concussion complications.”
The silence surrounding them was tense, and Loren needed to move, the cold in the air making his muscles ache, but he didn’t want to startle Nathan. He waited him out.
A throat cleared. “If you don’t mind—” Nathan’s voice cut off.
“I don’t.” Loren exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing under his thick coat. He had something he could now do to help…get Nathan to his house. Loren picked up his phone, opened an app and booked a taxi. As it was before midnight, most people were still in the pubs and clubs, so they had spare cars available quickly. “Okay. Let’s get you on your feet and see how steady you are.” Loren pocketed his phone and crouched in front of Nathan once more.
Sliding his hands behind Nathan’s back, Loren tucked his hands under his arms and took most of Nathan’s weight. He refused to acknowledge the sweet scent tickling his nose apart from a brief closure of his eyes. Then he was back to work. Nathan used one hand on the wall to help lever his body upright, and his other had hold of his jeans, luckily.
Or unluckily.
Loren shook his head to wipe the thought away, concentrating on steadying Nathan as he finally found his feet. “How are you doing?” Audible exhales and inhales were the reply. “Do you feel sick?”
Another exhale. “A little.”
“Okay, rest back on the wall for a moment and breathe deeply.” Loren manoeuvred Nathan until he was propped against the brick. He noticed Nathan still had hold of his jeans. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Would you like me to refasten your jeans?”
He watched as twin splashes of red appeared on each cheek, spreading down Nathan’s neck as he tightly rolled his lips together. He nodded once, sharply.
Not wanting to make a fuss and show his embarrassment, Loren grabbed the waistband of the jeans, pulling them up and fastening the button and zipper. He tried to be mechanical about it all, but he loved that Nathan allowed him to take care of him.
And that right there was one reason he should not have asked Nathan to stay with him.
Loren stepped back but kept an eye on Nathan’s form in case he decided to dive for the ground.
“What do you do?”
Nathan’s sultry tone wrapped around Loren’s brain, and he briefly closed his eyes. This was such a bad idea. “I’m an accountant.” He was unable to see the expression on Nathan’s face. Loren was about to ask—he was sure—an inappropriate question when he heard the taxi driver shout from the mouth of the alleyway. “We’re coming!” he bellowed back.
Stepping forward, Loren wrapped his arm around Nathan’s waist, gripping his right hip, and threw Nathan’s left arm over his shoulder, holding onto his wrist for leverage. Together they slogged towards the street. When Nathan stumbled, he grabbed hold of Loren’s hand on his waist and never removed it. Loren tried to ignore the cold palm, though it felt so right against his hand.
Loren paused at the taxi as the driver opened the door to the back seat for them. “Is he alright?” the driver asked.
“Yes. He’s cut his head, but we’re going to get it sorted now.” Loren’s answer was short and succinct; he told the guy to mind his own business.
