Page 81 of Steadfast
I did my thing, my broken arm drooping more and more as I got tired. But the water felt so fucking good.
The bathroom door opened again. Then a gentle hand cupped my elbow, supporting my arm. That felt better. “Thanks,” I mumbled, trying to rinse off. “I’ll just be another second.” In spite of May’s instructions, I fumbled the faucet off with my left hand.
Since I was dripping wet and naked, it startled me to hear the shower curtain begin to slide open. But then I was even more startled to find Sophie was the one who’d opened it. “Hi,” she said shyly.
“Hi.” I just stared at her pretty face, drinking her in.
“You didn’t call me,” she said, picking up a towel. But her eyes twinkled.
“Uh, I’ve been…”
“Asleep for three days,” she said, breaking into a smile. “I know. I’m just teasing you. May told me you’ve practically been Rip Van Winkle. How do you feel?”
“Better,” I said, realizing it was true.
Sophie pressed the towel against one side of my face and then the other. “I missed you.” She put one hand on my naked hip and then kissed my chin.
Damn. Her soft lips on my skin felt amazing. She wrapped the towel around my wet body and then pulled me into a hug. “Mmm.” I pulled her closer and took a deep breath of her apple-scented hair. Sophie. We stood there for a while, just holding each other.
Then, with a sigh, Sophie began to dry me off. And I let her. She ran the towel over my chest, and then I turned around so she could reach my back. Her hands lingered on my ass, and she pressed a kiss to my back. “Come out of there so I can dry your hair.”
I stepped carefully out of the bathtub and wrapped the towel around my waist. I couldn’t tie it one-handed, so I just held it closed. Sophie grabbed another and toweled off my hair, then finger-combed it. I stood there and let her fuss over me. There were big problems between us and too many things that still had to be said. But for those ten minutes I refused to worry about it.
“I brought you some clothes,” she said.
“You did? From where?”
“From your room. Your father gave me the key. They’re in the TV room.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder.
“Seriously?” I was trying to picture Sophie and my father having a conversation.
“Yeah. I mean—he had all the paint protection garb on, so he couldn’t hand it to me himself. But he told me exactly where to find it on the hook in his kitchen.”
“He was painting…a car?”
She gave me a quizzical look. “Of course a car. A Prius. Lime green with a white section on the door. Looked great.”
Wow. I never would have believed my father would have the resolve to step in and finish that job.
Back in the TV room, I found that May had changed the sheets on the couch. There was also a note on the pillow.I’m doing some reading up in my room. Holler if you need anything.
Seemed like May had made herself scarce.
Sophie plucked my Farm-Way T-shirt out of a shopping bag and carefully pulled it over my head.
“Thank you,” I said quietly as her soft hands smoothed the clean cotton over my chest. She was only a few inches away, and her nearness overwhelmed me. I just wanted to pull her down on the sofa, curl my body around her and never let go.
She blinked up at me, her wide eyes solemn. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you,” she whispered.
It was a perfect echo of the words I’d said to her on Thanksgiving. But I really wasn’t ready to hear it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Sophie in my life. I wanted her very badly. I just wanted there to be a better me to give her in return. Not some guy who got beat up by drug dealers, who was currently couch-surfing at his only friends’ house.
Right.
I took a couple of steps away to regain my composure, closing the TV room door so I wouldn’t flash May while I changed. A pair of my boxers was visible in the bag Sophie had brought, so I plucked them out.
Sophie tugged the towel out of my grip. “Sit down,” she said.
“I can handle this part,” I said, sitting on the edge of the freshly made-up couch.
