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“It’s worse than it looks.” I wince. “Promise.”
She moves closer, opening her arms like she wants to hug me, then reconsiders. I give her a slow, one-armed hug. “Happy to see you,” I murmur against her ear. “Thanks for taking all my calls.”
She touches my back gently—she might’ve found the only non-bruised part of my body. “Of course we took your calls.”
When she pulls away, her eyes are glossy and as happy as I am to see her, I wish Vapor and Eraser had come without their wives. “I’m really okay, Juliet.” I grin wide even though my jaw fucking aches. “Got all my teeth and everything.”
Instead of laughing, she sighs. “Come on. I bet you need ice and a BenGay bath.”
“Uh, I don’t think you’re supposed to bathe in it.”
“You’re not. But you might need to.”
Vapor’s head swivels between the bags on the curb and me. “I’m not sure if I should carry your stuff or carry you upstairs.”
“I can walk.” I half hobble, half shuffle onto the sidewalk to prove it. “Sort of.”
“Good God, Griff, come here.” Ella ducks under my arm and wraps her arm around my waist.
I lean on her a little more than I want to in front of everyone. Juliet takes my keys and marches ahead. The guys grab my stuff and coax me into the building.
Inside, I stop and give the staircase a long look. It looms like a mountain. Why the fuck do I have to live upstairs?
“Can you do it, Griff?” Eraser asks, all hint of joking gone. “Otherwise, you can come stay at our place. We only have the two steps on the front porch.”
“Nah, I got it. Just give me a minute.”
“Take your time,” Ella says.
“Guys, I’m fine. Really.” I release Ella’s shoulders and test putting more weight on my knee. “Go on ahead.”
“Like fuck,” Vapor says, dropping my bags at the base of the stairs. “Come on.”
Juliet returns, standing at the top of the stairs. “How are we doing this, guys?” she calls down.
“Slowly,” I answer, gripping the handrail. It’s like my knee’s on vacation and doesn’t want to function.
Eraser murmurs something to Ella I don’t bother listening in on and she grabs two of the bags and heads upstairs ahead of us.
Vapor grabs the rest of my stuff and watches me with concern.
I don’t have the energy to tell him I’m fine.
Eraser stands behind me while I grip the handrail and drag myself up one step at a time.
“They should’ve given you crutches or something,” he murmurs.
“Nah, I’m fine,” I grit through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, real fuckin’ fine,” Vapor grumbles.
Juliet’s waiting in the hallway outside my open door when I finally make it to the top of the steps, wheezing like an eighty-year-old man who spent his whole life smoking three packs a day.
Almost there.
If my friends weren’t hovering over me like I’m about to die, I’d crawl the last few feet to my apartment. Nah, that’d probably hurt even more.
I finally step over the threshold and practically cry with relief when I sink into my nubby, old couch.
