Page 11 of Unexpectedly Wanted
“I didn’t need your help,” I whisper-yelled. “What made you even think I did?!”
“Um, I was standing there when your mother was basically ignoring you flat out telling her you are gay. And, I don’t know, I just kind of…”
My head jerked to the side, and I found myself looking at him with less anger fueling my gaze.
It wasn’t a second later that his eyes met mine. His cheeks were a little red, and I wasn’t really sure what to do with that.
“I have lived with her for twenty-three years,” I said. “I know how she is. I know how to deal with her. And since I was sixteen, I’ve learned to deal with the fact that me saying I’m gay will never get through her head.”
“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to. I just… didn’t like hearing her dismiss a big part of you like that.”
Hearing the soft tone in his voice and the sincerity behind it, I was struck by an odd feeling. Remy had made a mess of things, but I was beginning to see that hadn’t been his intention. He really, honest to God, thought he was helping me. He was, in a roundabout way, sticking up for me.
And… that was something I didn’t know what to do with.
There hadn’t been many times in my life where someone had done that for me.
“Just say thank you. You can still hate me even if we share a bed,” he said when I hadn’t responded.
“Well, so can you, for that matter,” I shot back. He could just keep rubbing it in my face how much better than me he was at everything. We could act as if this hadn’t even happened once my parents left.
But, I couldn’t just ignore the fact that this was weird and different. Now that I knew the reason behind it, I couldn’t forget the fact that he’d swooped in and defended me against my parents.
“I don’t…” he mumbled.
“What?” I asked, my brows pulling together as I tried to figure out what he meant by that.
“I don’t hate you,” he said, turning his back to me as he walked to the side of the bed that was clearly not mine. “I never have.”
That wasn’t right. I must have misheard him.
“But—” I started to say, only to have him cut me off right away.
“Can we just get some sleep? It’s been a really long day.”
Grabbing one of the pillows off the bed, he tossed it to the floor. With his back to me, I saw him move to unbutton his pants. I stood there like a statue, totally in shock from what he’d said and the fact that he was about to shuck his pants right in front of me without a single care.
And there they went, his body folding at the waist slightly as he pushed his pants to the ground. Sure, he was covered by a pair of neon green boxer-briefs, but that wasn’t the point. He just…
What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stand here awkwardly and try my hardest not to look. I might not have been a fan of Remy, but I could admit to myself that he had an ass that was hard to look away from. Then he lowered that ass down to the edge of the bed, and as he did, my gaze caught on something else, and I knew I wouldn’t be letting him sleep on the floor.
One, it was just wrong to make anyone sleep on the floor. I was sure he’d had to do that plenty of times already in his life, and with the type of work he did, he’d likely have to do it many times in the future. I just couldn’t make him do it now.
Two, not that I thought he couldn’t do anything that I could do, but I imagined it was a bit more complicated for him to get up and down.
I wasn’t that big of an asshole, really.
As he began to remove his prosthetic leg, I thought about everything he’d done for me today. I hadn’t asked for him to do it, but maybe that somehow made it all the more important and special. Maybe it was time I started being a little nicer to Remy. Or at least try to be.
Truthfully, I had no clue what to do in this situation. I felt awkward standing there. But I also figured he did this sort of thing on his own every day, and he probably didn’t need me offering assistance like he was a useless lump. I shifted so I could watch his hands work. Maybe it was rude to stare, but it was clear as he moved about that he had a routine. That he was very practiced and knew what he was doing. He grunted softly, his capable hands now working to massage his knee and the muscle above it. I cringed as I looked at where the flesh ended just under that, but not because I was grossed out or disgusted. Instead, I felt a pang of sympathy looking at the slightly red and angry skin.
Not once had I ever heard him complain. And honestly, most of the time, I forgot that the lower half of one of his legs was… not there.
Wow. Why was this so weird? Was I making it weird? It shouldn’t have felt that way. I didn’t look down on him or think that he was any less capable than me. If anything, he was more amazing than me. I’d never be able to do half the shit that he went out there and did. Not that I should point any of this out, because I was sure that would be the exact opposite of easing the situation.
“Wait,” I said quickly and too loudly as he braced his hands on the edge of the mattress and began to scoot his ass off the edge. My hands twitched like they wanted to reach for him, to stop him from lowering himself all the way down to the floor. He hung there, head turning slowly until he was looking at me over his shoulder. “Don’t, ah, don’t…”
“Don’t?”
