Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,64

standing.

“What are you doing?” Trent rushed to his side and wrapped his arm around his waist to support him, but Wood heard him hiss in pain. “Come on, try to get in bed.”

“No,” Wood gritted out. He cleared his throat. “I need to stand.”

“Okay,” Trent agreed. “Okay, that’s good.”

Wood used the furniture around the room to help him take his few initial steps. He had so little energy it was embarrassing. If he fought a sixteen-year-old right now, the kid would probably give him a run for his money. He was holding on to the doorknob when stepped into the hall, and his left knee gave out. Wood knew he was going down, but Trent swooped under his arm just before he hit the floor. Though he could see Trent’s back was bothering him again, somehow Wood felt the safest he’d been in a long time. As if he knew Trent wouldn’t let him fall, he wouldn’t leave him alone, he wouldn’t desert him when he needed him the most. Somehow Wood had earned Trent’s trust, and his loyalty had quickly followed. And Bishop was right. Wood was beginning to feel pretty damn lucky about that.

“Where are you trying to go?” Trent asked him. “Maybe you should lie down and drink some more.”

“I will.”

“Good.” Trent tried to turn, but Wood stopped him.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

Trent’s cheeks flushed, and a pretty blush color worked its way down his chest. “Okay.”

Wood didn’t know if Trent was relieved or disappointed when he told him he didn’t need for him to come in the bathroom and help. He’d argued that it might not be safe for him to shower alone, and Wood couldn’t stop the curve of one side of his mouth. He slowly removed Trent’s hands from around his waist and kissed his knuckles.

“I can handle it,” he promised and closed himself inside, keeping it unlocked like he agreed. He could tell Trent didn’t want to leave him alone, but Wood had suffered enough humiliation. He needed to do this part by himself.

Wood took a long, hot shower, not thinking Trent would care about breaking their ten-minute rule. Hell, it’d taken him at least that long to go from the toilet over into the tub. His body was still achy, but he felt more sluggish and tired than he did physical pain now. Wood brushed his teeth three times, then rinsed with the mouthwash as flashbacks of him getting sick all over himself made him want to vomit again. He scrubbed his face clean, but there was no amount of soap that would wash away the embarrassment. He wrapped a towel around his waist and shut off the light. When he opened the door, his heart stuttered to see Trent standing there waiting.

“Hey.” Trent chewed on his lip. “You need my help?”

Wood shook his head, and Trent began to back away when he reached out and caught his bicep. “You don’t have to jump up every time you hear me. I’m all right,” Wood tried to reassure him, but Trent looked as if he was insulting him.

“I was actually heading towards my room when you opened the door, so…”

“Mmhmm,” Wood hummed, letting Trent know he didn’t believe him, and he smiled when he rolled those soft, brown eyes.

“I heated up some more soup. You should probably try to eat now.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out in a second,” Wood answered, but neither of them moved. Trent’s eyes were on his wet chest, his gaze hungry and his nostrils flaring. Wood liked that the closer they stood, the farther Trent had to tilt his head back to hold their eye contact. He stood there panting against Wood’s damp skin, making it extremely difficult for him not to beg Trent to take him to bed and make him forget everything messed up in this world.

Chapter Thirty

Trent

Trent sat in the living room playing his video game while he gave Wood as much time as he needed in his bedroom. He didn’t want to hover, and Wood seemed to be moving around a little better. When he heard him coming down the hall, Trent didn’t jump up and rush to his side this time; he let Wood trudge into the kitchen and sit down at the table where he’d already heated up a large bowl of chicken-and-wild-rice soup for him. Trent was damn near holding his breath until he heard the spoon clanging the bottom of the bowl.

“What’s this? I don’t drink these,” Wood rumbled, his