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“If you’re okay, I’ll go back to my room.” My brother doesn’t handle excitement very well.
“Are you diabetic?” Concern laced with anger is in Zane’s voice.
“Hypoglycemic. I didn’t eat enough breakfast, and all the running up and down the stairs then the heat of the shower must’ve made my blood sugar drop.”
I sip more of the juice. It helps, but now my stomach is weak. I’m nauseated, and I wish I hadn’t gotten so distracted.
“I should’ve…” My voice breaks off, and I shake my head.
I should’ve grabbed a grape Jolly Rancher off my nightstand. That little hit of sugar was all I needed.
“I don’t think you hit your head.” Zane grips my chin between his finger and thumb, forcing my eyes to his. “Your pupils aren’t dilated.”
“I didn’t hit my head.” The last thing I remember is singing along with RuPaul when my knees buckled. “I’m lucky that bar was there.”
I nod at the silver rod on the side of the shower, and his lips tighten. “We installed it when I came home.”
Right. They would’ve installed it when he came back here after his injury—he wouldn’t have been able to put weight on his leg for a while.
Not long after I got here, in an attempt to understand his grumpy demeanor, I watched the video replay of the hit on YouTube. I’d heard the story of how he’d tried to fake a field goal, but I didn’t expect what I saw on that video.
He spun left, and a lineman the size of a refrigerator came down on him so hard, it looked for a minute like he might not get up. I actually gasped out loud, and my heart dropped to my stomach. Even though I knew he’d made it through, it was horrifying, and the cry of pain he’d made brought tears to my eyes.
His foot was broken so badly, he’s lucky he can still walk. It ended his career as a professional kicker, sending him back here, far away from the parties and the flashing lights and the celebrity.
Understandably, he’s closed off and distant, right? Still, I’d like to be friends. We work together, and now we’re practically roommates, being right across the hall from each other.
Shifting around, I move the towel to cover more of my body. “Thank you… for helping me.”
He stands, turning to get a fresh towel out of the cabinet, which he uses to dry himself. “You’re a guest in our home.”
It’s a curt reply that sucks all the warmth out of his act of kindness, but I’ve been practicing positive meditations, overcoming negativity.
I give him a neutral smile. “Still, you did a good thing.”
He glances at me. “You shouldn’t be alone in case it happens again.”
“I know how to manage it. I was just distracted.” I’m still sitting on the floor holding the glass.
I don’t sayby him, because I’m not distracted by Zane Bradford. I was trying to hurry so he’d give me a ride to work. That’s all.
“Are you okay now?” He gives me a pointed look, and my throat tightens.
“I’m fine. Trust me, I’ve been dealing with this for a long time.”
Zane’s lips tighten as if he’ll say something. Instead, he simply nods.
Nodding seems to be his response to everything.
“Are you going to work today?”
“Yes!” I hold the bar to help myself stand, then I stop whenI realize I’m about to give him the full-Monty view of my vag. “If you’ll give me five minutes, I’ll be dressed and ready to go.”
“I have to change out of these wet clothes, so take ten.”
“In that case, I’ll put on some lip gloss.”
He shakes his head. “Miss Gina is blind, so it won’t matter.”
