Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,26
rugs in the bathrooms and stuff so you don’t trip on them. I’ll make a grocery list tonight.”
The comments continued at a rapid-fire pace, too fast for him to respond. But it was clear that she didn’t actually intend for him to contribute to the conversation. This was her way of dealing with the tension in the car. While he stared out the window and grunted, she gave voice to every thought in her head.
She barely took a breath until she pulled into his driveway. “Do you want me to park in the garage so you can go in that way?”
“The front is probably easier.”
She turned the car off and jumped out. Vlad opened his door, but she barked at him to stay put. His crutches were in the back seat, so he waited for her to get them before attempting to get out. Using one crutch for leverage, he swung his braced leg out and then rose slowly on his good leg.
Elena handed him the other crutch, hovering and biting her lip as he wedged it beneath his armpit.
“Careful,” Elena said, holding her arms out, presumably in case he toppled over. Which was pointless. If he fell, he’d take them both down.
“I’ll shut your door,” Elena said.
Vlad crutched forward a couple of times to give her room. The door slammed behind him, and then Elena raced around, and her frenetic questions started again. “Do you need help? I’ll open the front door. Can you get up the porch steps?”
“I’m fine, Elena. But yes, it would be helpful if you opened the front door.”
She took off like a speed skater and bounded up the few steps to his porch. She used her key to unlock and push open the door before turning and racing back to him.
“So, do I—do you need help?”
“I can do it.”
“Right. Okay. I just, I don’t know what to do.”
Vlad paused in his slow approach to the porch. “Look at me.”
Her wide eyes blinked up at him. Something shifted in his chest, and he wished the painkillers could numb his heart. “I’ll tell you if I need something, okay? You don’t have to hover.”
“Okay.” She backed up a step. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I appreciate the help.”
Her minuscule nod did more damage to his chest cavity. This woman was going to kill him slowly with her presence alone. Was that her goal? Was that why she was doing this? To finish off what remained of his pathetic carcass?
“Could you maybe bring in my bag?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding with far more enthusiasm this time. “Yes, I can do that.”
He crutch-hopped up the steps as she retrieved his duffel bag, and by the time he made it inside, she was already behind him, hovering once again.
“Okay, so do you want to go straight upstairs or maybe sit on the couch for a little while?”
He inched toward the staircase. “My bed is better. More room to elevate my leg.”
“Right. Of course. That was stupid.”
He hopped up the first step, and she followed closely behind. He was breathing hard and sweating by the time he reached the top.
“Now what?” Elena said behind him.
“Now I ice it for a little while.”
“I will get some after we get you settled in bed.”
Just hearing the word bed out of her mouth made him want to groan. Except for the hospital room, which really didn’t count, they hadn’t been in a bedroom together for any significant time in years. And even then, they’d shared the space for mere moments. And not for what husbands and wives usually shared a bedroom for. This was going to be torture.
The minute he sat on the mattress, Elena moved in between his splayed legs to take his crutches. “I’ll lean them here,” she said, oblivious to the effect she was having on him by just standing. “That way you can reach them.”
“Thanks,” he grunted.
He reached behind him for a pillow to put under his leg. Elena raced forward. “Let me do it.”
She bent over him, and he must have made another one of those tortured noises, because she leaped back suddenly. “Oh my God, did I hurt you?”
“Nope. Just trying to get comfortable.” His voice scraped like rusty skates on pond ice.
“Lean back so we can move your leg,” she said.
He obeyed, mostly to get as far away from her skin as possible, because his hands were developing a mind of their own. He lifted his leg then as she plumped the pillow for him to rest it on.