13
JOSEPH
With each step that I have to take, each point of pressure, each bit of resistance I have to push against, my body grows stronger. I know pushing the boundaries probably isn't the smartest idea in the world, but I can't help myself — all I want to do is get the hell out of this bed. To be done with it, and back on my own two feet.
The first week of physical therapy is the easiest oddly enough, mainly because I've been here before, beginning a physical therapy regimen and I'm ready to get on with it. Being in the water helps. It's less painful, less frustrating for me. So when the second week of physical therapy rolls around, I feel like someone's shoving hot darts in my lower back, the pain is so bad. I don't want to admit it to Lana, especially with how she keeps regarding me with pity in her eyes. Or maybe that's just my imagination. Lana has become more distant, and while I don't know why exactly, I try to reinforce this in my own damn brain that it's a good idea. She’s my nurse, for fuck sake, and she needs to focus on getting me better. I’m in no state to offer her anything and I keep telling myself that I can't afford to get distracted now. I should be focusing on getting better, not on how soothing her voice is or how much I notice the way her body moves.
By the fourth week, I've been at it for over a month, my muscles strengthening, my resolve firming up. I know I can do this. I will do this.
Staring down at the call button on my bed, I waver back and forth between needing help from Lana and getting up by myself. It's quiet in the house, I don't even think my brother’s here, and Olivia's probably in school. So it's just me and Lana.
The thought stirs something inside of me, but I push it back down forcibly. Why involve her, when I can just handle this myself? Being an invalid is the most emasculating experience of my life and I hate Lana seeing me this way.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and pull myself to the edge of the bed, my lower back muscles straining hard, fighting my will. Lana just gave me my pain meds about an hour ago, so I know I should be good to go, it's just a matter of actually moving.
I slowly lower my legs to the floor, wincing as my feet bear some of the light weight of my thighs. It's amazing just how much you don't realize that you rely on your legs and feet to hold the rest of your frame up. I stretch my toes out, wondering if it's a good idea to maybe try one of those therapy moves before I get up, but the truth is that I have to fucking pee, so might as well get it over with. Chances are I might not even make it all away before I end up pissing myself, and the very last thing I want is Lana being here to witness something like that.
"Fuck," I groan softly to myself as I slowly put more weight on to my feet, slipping to the very edge of the bed until most of my ass is off of it. I'm hunched over, and I know that the moment I straighten up is one of the problems.
Grabbing hold of the rail on the bed, I slowly slide my feet forward. Part of me wishes I would've pulled the socks off so I’m not slipping and sliding everywhere, a thought that makes my back muscles clench up even tighter.
Everything in my body is already exhausted, sore from just this little bit of movement, but I don't care. I make my way across the room to where the bathroom is, breathing in deeply through my nose and letting it out through my mouth. I keep it steady somehow, managing to hold myself up enough to pull out my cock and handle my business, albeit leaning up against the wall.
The door to my room opens quickly after a soft knock, and in comes Lana, her squeaky footsteps giving her away. "Joseph?" she cautiously calls out for me.
"I'm in the bathroom!"
The squeaky footsteps pick up until she's right on the other side of the door. "Oh my God, why didn't you call me?"
I shake my head at her even though she can't see me, finishing up before I wash up after myself. When I open the door, I lean against the door frame, taking her in.
She's angry as hell, I can see it burning in her eyes, but I also see the way she gives me a quick once over, her eyes lingering more so than ever before as she realizes I'm just in my boxers. "You should've told me. I could've helped you — what if you would've fallen?"
"I'm fine. I gotta learn to do this at some point, don't I? But I like that you’re worried about me."
Just as I take another step forward to go past her, my back spasms and I have to catch myself, grabbing for the door frame again. Lana bolts to my side immediately, trying to pull me away from the door and over to relax back in bed.
"No, not yet. I'm not ready to lay down just yet. I want to walk around if that's cool of you. Or at least to stand up. Something. I feel like if I lay in my bed another damn minute, I'm going to go crazy."
Obviously exasperated with me, Lana just rolls her eyes and helps me lean against the foot of the bed, shaking her head at me. "You just have to be difficult, don't you?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm a man, that's just the way we work," I say, reaching my arms over her head and stretching bit by bit, smirking since I've just caught her watching me. "Checking me out, are you?"
"Okay, I was just watching for when you fall over again, I was definitely not checking you out." But the blush is apparent in her cheeks, no matter what she says.
"Uh-huh. I mean… It's okay if you were, though." My grin widens as she snorts.
"I'm just glad to see you up and moving around. Clearly, your pain medicines are really helping you. But I guess now that you're on your feet again, I'm just about done here," she says slowly, pretending to tap her chin in thought.
I play it off. "I suppose you are. I bet you're ready to go, aren't you? A few months of taking care of a jerk like me must be pretty damn exhausting."
She takes it in stride, smiling back at me finally. "It wasn't all that bad. Believe me, I've dealt with far worse patients."
As she tucks a curl behind her ear, I find myself wanting to see just how soft her hair is. Does it feel like I imagine? It's so shiny, so full of life, just like her. A wave of appreciation for Lana and her help hits me square in the chest. "Thanks, though. I mean for getting me through this. I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with. And if it wasn't for you, I probably would've done some other stupid shit in between my surgeries. Probably up and driving a car on pain meds half-fucked-up. Who knows. Maybe I wouldn't be standing up right now."
Something in her eyes softens, but I only catch a quick glimpse before I start to lose strength in my left leg, Lana quick to help steady me, much stronger than her frame would suggest.
Where her skin touches mine, tingles shoot through me, my mind swimming. In a moment of pure instinct and opportunity, I let go of everything I've been dealing with and do what I’ve wanted to do since she first walked through my bedroom door. I lean forward to kiss her. It's hurried, my mouth hungry for her, hungrier than I even realized, and she doesn't fight it as I pull her closer to my body, the heat of her apparent even through her scrubs.
Her lips are firm yet soft, full and pliant against mine. I trace her teeth with my tongue, wanting to taste all Lana has to offer me. Her hands grab at me desperately, both of us breathing heavily and it hits me. She wants me, despite how injured and incapable I am. She’s kissing me even though, as my nurse, this is so wrong. The wrongness just makes it feel better as far as I’m concerned. I’ve always been a sucker for the forbidden, but there’s more here. All the times she’s been tender with me. All the times she’s seen through my bravado and understood why I am the way I am.
I'm aware the moment Lana loosens her grip on me, and I pull away, loving the way her lips are a deeper color, her cheeks too. "I'm sorry," I manage to say, trying to swallow against the weird pressure rising in my throat. "I've wanted to do that for a long time…thought I’d better take the chance before you leave me for some other lucky injured bastard."
Lana takes a slow step back, bringing her fingers to her mouth, touching her lips in what looks like awe.
"If you don't want anything to do with me, I get it. But... I couldn't just let you walk out of here, leaving me, without finding out what it felt like."
She sighs, her shoulders slumping. "What is it with you and Michael?" she says softly. I don't know if she's saying it to me for real, or if it's just a rhetorical kind of thing, but a moment later I don't have to wonder.
The door to the room opens again and Michael is standing in the doorway.