My heart squeezes inside my chest. “He’s…everything.” I whisper the words as if afraid to test the universe by saying it too loud. We still have so much left to face if we’re going to make it as couple; I don’t want to add tempting fate to the list.
I expect Bette to comment, but she doesn’t. When the silence continues to stretch, I open my eyes again to see she has one of those dreamy smiles she usually reserves for when she’s looking at my brother on her face. Romantic Bette is such a sap. “From what I overheard at the hospital, I’d say he seems to think the same of you.”
It’s my turn to grin like a lovesick idiot at the memory of Mase’s declaration while simultaneously laying into me for trying to protect him.
Mase returns as Bette’s working the conditioner through my tangled strands. She does her best to finger-comb out the worst of my knots but opts to leave the conditioner to soak in to make it easier to work through later. Round and round she winds my hair into a bun and uses a clip to secure it on top of my head.
I sit up, regretting not removing my hoodie before Bette started. Oh well.
She wipes down the sink and gathers up the bottles of my toiletries. Then she moves in front of me and places a kiss to my forehead before turning to Mase. “Take care of our girl.” He nods at the order.
Not wanting to risk losing my balance and busting my ass more, I remain seated to remove my socks and toss them in the direction of the hamper in the corner of the room.
Mase pulls two fluffy towels from the linen closet, hanging them on the rack, and places my cell phone within easy reach on the tub’s ledge. “Call me if you need anything.” I get another gentle kiss, this one to the crown of my head.
Not liking the way that sounds, I’m quick to grab him before he can get too far. “Stay.”
His gaze goes from the almost desperate grip I have on his wrist then up to my face. His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. I shouldn’t find such a simple action sexy, but I can’t help it. “Babe…”
“Please?”
He rubs at his ear, turning his head to look at the door to the bathroom. “You’re hurt. As much as I like to think I’m a gentleman—”
I snort, and his eyes narrow. Gentleman my ass.
“—if I see you naked, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.”
There’s the Caveman I love.
I bite my lip to restrain a victorious smile and mentally bump fists with my inner cheerleader at how the action has Mase’s gaze locking onto my mouth.
“Join me.” I take two small steps, my chest brushing against his. The seafoam color of his eyes darkens at my words, but he keeps his body ramrod straight, battling with himself over my request. Yes I can admit it’s selfish, but I need this. I need to prove to both him and myself that—fractured cheekbone excluded—it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than Liam fucking Parker to break me this time around. “Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” The gravelly edge to his voice tells me how pained he is by the possibility, but I’m shaking my head before he finishes saying the words.
Releasing my hold on him, I bend my elbows, pull my arms from the sleeves of my sweatshirt, and tuck them into my torso. I bring my hands up to the opening, spreading my fingers wide on either side of my neck, and stretch the thick cotton as far as I can as I ease it over my head.
“If you really don’t want to hurt me…” I repeat the same process with my t-shirt. “Then get in the tub.” I keep my gaze locked on his as I slowly lower the zipper of my sports bra and toss it onto the pile forming on the floor.
I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my leggings and start to push them down my legs. It’s not the sexiest striptease, my movements slow and not at all fluid thanks to my concussion, but I let my now naked body do most of the work for me as I spin to face the tub. “I’ll need help washing my back.” I arch my spine enough to pop my ass out in his direction.