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My response is a quick nod before I carefully stand and reach out to help him up.
We get him to his feet with a groan, and I feel ridiculously short next to him as I pray that neither of us slips like this. I don’t have the strength to stop him from going down again and vice versa with his injury. I’m not sure how he’s going to do this without putting any pressure on the left side, but I tuck myself under his shoulder and hope it’s enough to get him to the front door.
“You don’t think it’s a problem if I go with you tomorrow? I don’t want to get in the way of your family stuff.” He turns his head towards me with a questioning look.
“Not at all. If anyone makes you feel like you’re in the way, they’re going to get their ass kicked.”
We both know he means Justin.
“Big words for a guy that just fell on his ass while stepping out of his car.” We reach the front door and he pauses, smiling at me. I love that smile.
I snatch his keys before he can fumble with them to get the front door unlocked.
“My hands aren’t broken, sweetheart.”
“It’s too cold for you to take your sweet time right now,” I tease.
He puts his hands up in surrender because I have a point.
“I’ll have to get a copy made for you,” he says, pointing.
The fact that he wants to makes me blush. “I’d like that.”
I waste no time when we get inside, carefully helping Miles to the couch. I place one of his red throw pillows on the coffee table in front of where he sits, and very gently lift his leg and set hisfoot on top. I see him wince, and then try to play it off with a smile.
“I’ll get you some ice.”
“Ice is what caused this in the first place,” he grumbles.
I just laugh.
I make my way to the kitchen, and can feel his eyes on me as I comfortably move around it. I fill a gallon bag with ice cubes, and watch the apprehension in his eyes when I approach again. He doesn’t say a word as I gently place it on his swollen part of his ankle. Gentle or not, I watch his eyes squeeze shut for a second and frown.
“You should go to urgent care,” I say, taking a seat beside him on the couch.
He leans into me, and buries his face in my hair.
“You smell so good,” I hum into his shoulder. I’ve been wanting to tell him that for months.
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“That you smell good? What is it? I’ll buy some for myself.” I smile up at him, and it’s simply because I amuse myself.
He brings his face to my neck and sniffs loudly enough to make a giggle fly past my lips. The look on his face tells me that’s quite the success for him.
I win my fight to get him to the hospital, and I’m sure he feels ridiculous having to let me help him walk. It’s not the dynamic our heights are meant for, but I’m taking my job seriously. We get through the parking lot and up to the front desk with almost no incidents.Almostbecause hedidn’t see the curb until his injured foot was bumping into it. He’s not a crybaby or anything, but it still upsets me to know he’s in pain.
When the sweet girl at the front desk says he’ll have to fill out some paperwork because he’s never been here before, I blink at him in surprise.
“What?”
“You’ve lived here your whole life and have never been here before?”
He shrugs. “None of the care I needed has been urgent.”
We sit and I watch as he goes down the lines, filling in his information. I like his handwriting. It’s messy, but less boyish than I would’ve imagined. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m being nosy. In fact, when he looks up and notices me staring, he places a hand on my thigh. He’s so warm despite this chilly room with ceilings that are too tall and walls that are too white. He makes any uncomfortable place a comfortable one.
When he flips to the back of the page to continue with his information, he doesn’t start writing. Instead he covers the print with his hand, blocking the questions from my view. I scrunch my brows curiously. I might be feeling the slightest bit insulted by his sudden change.
