Tinsley
My eyes open in the mostly dark room. The lamp in the corner illuminates a sleeping Damien, his head tilted at a very odd angle and a towel that barely covers his chest serving as a blanket. He looks so uncomfortable, part of me wishes he was lying here beside me in my bed. It takes a moment for the day’s events to come back to me, and when they do, I cringe. I threw up all over myself and he cradled me in his arms as if I weren’t covered in the putrid stuff. Not many people would do that. Hell, no one would do that. As that thought settles in, adding another mark in the “give Damien another chance” column, he begins to stir.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Damien says in his sexy, sleep-filled voice. He lifts his arms high and stretches, causing his t-shirt to ride up just enough to show off his amazing six pack. My face heats again and he shoots me that sexy as hell smirk of his. Damn this man for making me feel like a horny teenager with absolutely no self-control.
Standing up, Damien makes another production of stretching, then walks to the bed, placing his hand on my forehead. “Good. The fever is gone.” The fever may be gone, but I’m still burning up. My body is on fire, ready to combust at any moment. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly heat up anymore, he places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Are you feeling up to eating? I made some soup. I can run downstairs and heat it up. You were sound asleep when I finished it and I didn’t want to wake you up,” he says in a rush.
“Soup sounds good. Thank you,” I tell him, a small smile playing on my lips at how nervous he seems. To me, it’s ridiculous that he would be, but I guess I have some power over him as well. He’s put a lot of himself out there and told me exactly what he wants, which is more than I have done. And while I can’t let that sway my decision, I can see that I hold a control over his emotions I hadn’t considered.
Smiling, he scoots off the bed. When he’s out the door, I glance at the clock. My eyes widen in surprise when I see it’s five in the morning. I lift my arms to stretch. I’m still a little achy, but nowhere near as bad as I was. Earlier, it hurt to breathe. I haven’t been sick like this in a long time, and I didn’t have anyone to take care of me then. It was back when things were starting to get rocky with Logan and he acted like I was being a big baby. He told me to suck it up, that I would feel better if I was moving around and taking care of myself. I feel like such a fool for not seeing what a prick he really was. Had I been so desperate to find love again, to heal the heartbreak Damien caused, that I just took the first thing that came along and closed my eyes to his true colors? Or did he just hide it that well in the beginning? Either way, I was so stupid for being with him.
I pull back the covers and gasp when I realize I’m naked, a towel hanging loosely under my breasts. Snatching it up, I cover myself, mortified all over again at him seeing me naked and bathing me. God, how pathetic was that? Sick or not, the first time he’s undressed me since I was seventeen was because I had vomit all over me. I hide my face in my hands, wondering how I’m going to face him now that that morsel of a memory has surfaced.
I guess the naked part isn’t that bad. I mean, he’s seen me naked before. Though it’s been ten years and things are exactly the same as they once were, it’s not a big deal. But covered in vomit? I groan and wallow in my embarrassment for a minute before getting up off the bed.
The room spins slightly, and my arm shoots out to my side, landing on the bedside table to brace myself before I stand upright once more and make my way to the bathroom on shaky legs. After taking care of necessities, I turn on the shower and step in. The heat of the water cascading down my skin feels so good, I almost moan. Standing under the spray, I allow my mind to blank and just absorb the warmth. A knock sounds on the bathroom door and I jolt, my eyes popping open.
“I have your soup,” Damien yells through the door, and I smile, unable to help myself. He has been amazing.
“I’ll be out in just a minute!” I yell back, feeling a contentment settle into my bones. The decision to give him another shot fills me with a sense of rightness I haven’t felt in a long time. Smiling to myself, I enjoy the heat of the shower for a couple more minutes before getting out and drying off. “Damn it.” I swear under my breath, realizing after all that, I still forgot to bring clothes in here with me. Hanging my head, I making sure the towel is cinched tightly around my chest and take a deep breath before opening the door.
Standing in the doorway, I watch as Damien sets up soup, juice, and toast on a TV tray. My heart melts at how sweet and attentive this man really is. Looking up, his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. “I just need to grab some clothes,” I say, my lips twitching as I try to hide my smile at his shocked face. His heated eyes rake over my body, and I bite my lip, trying to fight the giggle that wants to escape. It’s been a long time since someone has looked at me with such intensity and hunger. I turn and walk to the dresser, needing to get out from under his stare before I beg him to take me. After pulling out a t-shirt and pair of yoga pants, I scurry back into the bathroom to get dressed.
Properly clothed, I pad back into the bedroom and take a seat on the bed. Damien places the tray in front of me before sitting on the chair by the window. I sip on my soup, taking slow, tentative bites, hoping my stomach settles and this won’t be coming back up in an hour. I feel a lot better, but I’m not about to push anything when I’m not one-hundred percent.
Stealing glances at Damien, I notice the bags under his eyes and wariness in his posture. He looks exhausted, and I kind of feel bad since Iand hunger. exIf he hadn’t been taking care of me, he wouldn’t have slept in a chair of all places. Catching his eye, I pat the bed beside me, making the first move. He smiles and moves to sit next to me, and I return my focus on my soup, debating what to do now. After several moments of awkward silence, I open my mouth, then close it…then open it again.
“Will you stay with me for a while longer?” I ask, my eyes on my tray, my voice low. It wasn’t what I had necessarily meant to say, but it doesn’t make the fact that I want to be near him any less true. In my peripheral, I watch his head snap up and peek over at him. His eyes connect with mine, searching, and I take a deep breath before forcing out the words that scare and excite me at the same time. “I’m willing to give this—us, a shot,” I say, motioning between us. “We have to take it slow, though. Get to know each other again.” I pause in an effort to gather my thoughts. “We can’t expect to just pick up where we left off ten years ago.” A small smile plays on his lips, and I match it with my own.