Page 23 of Stepbrother Dearest

“Can you stay awake long enough for me to shower? Or do you want to get into bed now?”

“I need to rest for a minute.”

I sat him down on the toilet seat. “Don’t you dare fall asleep or topple over while I’m showering.”

“I’ll try not to,” he whispered.

Not trusting him to be alone for long, I took a lightning-fast shower. I dried off, then tugged on a pair of sleep pants and a tee. I usually slept naked but wouldn’t be doing that until I had my bed to myself again.

Graham was still sitting there and barely awake as I got his braces back on. He was too weak to help me dress him. I made sure to not look at any part of him that wasn’t strictly necessary as I got him into a pair of loose sleep pants and an oversized muscle shirt.

I preferred guys who were as big or bigger than me, and with his golden-boy good looks and incredible body, Graham was not only gorgeous, but also my type. Thank fuck I was too tired for my dick to react to his nearly naked proximity.

When he was dressed, I got another dose of painkillers into him. The hospital had given him a loading dose after he’d seen Dr. Carlisle, and two doses to take home. I’d have to get his script filled later today because the pain was only going to get worse before it got better.

He was barely conscious as I got him into bed. He immediately rolled onto his side, but whimpered as he knocked his knees together and put weight on his hurt arm.

I rolled him onto his back and went to my closet to get my body pillow. Graham was on his side and whimpering again when I came back. I’d planned on putting it between us, but it looked like he was a side sleeper.

Carefully, I tucked the pillow against him and draped his hurt arm and good knee over it. He snuggled into it, cuddling it like a giant teddy bear. A soft smile played on his lips. Hopefully he’d sleep until the pain meds wore off.

I checked his pulse and breathing, then walked around the bed and climbed in. The warmth of my covers enveloped me. I breathed deep as my body finally relaxed.

Graham shifted, mumbling something. I hadn’t shared a bed with someone since my last fuck buddy and I had called things off almost a year ago. It was strange to feel a presence beside me again.

Closing my eyes, I ignored the body heat coming from Graham’s side of the bed and the steady sounds of his breathing. Exhaustion washing over me, I drifted off to sleep feeling weirdly settled and calm.

5

GRAY

A soft moanescaped my lips as the darkness of sleep lifted.

Holy goddamn shit. Why did it feel like I’d been hit by a truck?

I blinked my eyes open, then blinked again to clear them. Where the fuck was I?

This wasn’t my bed, or my room.

The dark walls and blackout curtains made it seem like the middle of the night, but the little rays of sunshine filtering around the curtains told me otherwise. The bed was soft but still firm enough to be supportive, and the pillow under my head was big and fluffy. Even the cotton comforter felt nice against my skin. Way better than the threadbare one I had.

A vision of Caleb kneeling in front of me flashed behind my eyes as the events of last night came rushing back to me. I buried my face in the giant pillow I was snuggling. It smelled nice, like oranges and the ocean.

Groaning, I let go of the pillow and rolled over. My bladder was screaming, and my tongue was sandpaper in my mouth. Glancing at the door to the bathroom, I did some quick math. Maybe fifteen steps to the door, another five or so to the toilet.

Fuck. How was I going to sit up on my own? Let alone make it to the toilet before I pissed myself and made a mess of Caleb’s fancy-ass bed.

Maybe I could hold onto the bedside table and pull myself up?

My phone was on it, a sticky note stuck to the screen. Using my good arm, which still hurt like a bitch, I slid my phone off the table and onto the mattress.

Goldilocks,

Text me when you get up. Don’t you dare try to do it alone or I’ll leave you on the floor so you’ll learn your lesson.

-C

Chuckling despite myself, I unlocked my phone and programmed in the number he’d scrawled on the bottom of the note. The clock said it was nearly four. I’d slept for what, six, maybe seven hours? I normally got around five. Why did it feel like I’d barely napped?

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