was not something he wanted to come clean about with anyone.
She came around the bar, holding both cups of coffee. Her boobs bounced, and he found himself watching them as she walked. Shit, when did she grow boobs? Wasn’t she flat-chested? Or maybe she’d just worn clothes that hid her glorious figure? Shit, shit, shit. He needed to get his eyes off her chest before she realized what he was doing.
“I think the real question is why you dodged my question.” She thrust the mug at him, and he took it, trying his best not to notice her breasts, which were now at eye level with him. “What’s going on, D?”
Dimitri cracked his neck to relieve the tension. The woman never did let him by with shit. She knew him better than even his brothers.
The coffee tasted delicious. She lived in a shithole, had secondhand furniture, and yet allowed herself damn good coffee? Her priorities were all screwed up.
How to tell her about his disability? She knew about the incident, but not the details. No one outside his family knew all the details. Dimitri knew his feelings were irrational, but it didn’t keep him from feeling embarrassed and ashamed of the fact he could barely walk anymore.
She sat down in her ugly brown chair and sipped her own coffee. A light sigh floated to him as she savored her first taste. Her small, pink tongue darted out to retrieve any lost liquid.
Fuck. He was getting harder. Maybe taking Becca with him wasn’t the best idea. He’d end up screwing her, and it would ruin everything. He knew himself all too well. The one thing he didn’t want to fuck up was his friendship with Becca.
“Dimitri?”
His gaze snapped up to her face when he heard the irritation in her voice. She’d seen exactly where his eyes were, and she looked pissed. Dammit. Coming here was a bad idea. It put all sorts of new thoughts in his head, thoughts his dick couldn’t or wouldn’t ignore.
“Either tell me why you’re insisting I go with you or get the hell out. I don’t have time for you to sit here and drool. They’re just boobs. All women have them.”
Not like that, they didn’t. He blinked, trying to clear the sudden lust that crept up on him. He didn’t need his dick thinking for him. He needed Becca, and his damn dick would have to ignore his own desires for once.
“You remember I told you about that shit that went down in Boston with Kade and his wife?”
Becca nodded. He’d told her a little about it, but not much. She’d wondered if there was more to the story than he’d told her. She could ignore his roving eyes for a minute for this. It was something he did without even realizing it. She’d decided that after watching him for a year. Any girl he met, his eyes hit her boobs first. It was just Dimitri.
Not that she was about to tell him his eyes made her nipples hard. If she gave him that much, he’d take a mile, and she would not end up as one of his women. That was a notch he wasn’t going to get near placing on the proverbial bedpost.
“My injuries were more serious than I told anyone.” He took another sip, and she settled back to hear him out. “The neurotoxin dart hit me directly in my spine, or near enough that it did severe nerve damage to my legs. I’m doing physical therapy three times a week to try to regain the strength in them.”
“You’re walking fine, Dimitri.” She’d seen him waltz in and make himself at home. Surely, he couldn’t have walked up three flights of stairs if he was that bad off.
“How long did it take me to sit, and have I moved since I sat?”
Well, come to think of it, he’d sat down as soon as he came in. Her gaze shifted to his legs. At first, she’d thought he was only playing up his injuries, but the man she knew wouldn’t lie about something like this. All her anger deflated and was replaced by concern. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that walking up those stairs caused a shit storm of pain. I may not be able to stand up for a bit.”
This had to be killing him. Dimitri was a very active person, always outdoors hiking, camping, rock climbing. Losing even partial use of his legs would be debilitating to a man like him.