Page 34 of Pretty Thing

“Give me a minute.”

Closing my eyes, I take a breath, then scoot myself across the floor. I lean my back against the wall before reaching up with shaky fingers to turn the lock.

The second the door opens, Felix squats beside me, looking me over and assessing what I’ve done to myself. There’s nothing so humbling as being forced to have someone help you do the most basic of tasks. Even worse when the guy is practically a stranger and hot as hell.

My hormones can’t decide if I want to jump up and down with excitement or crawl into a hole and never come out. That’s all before you add in the reason he’s even here. The guilt and shame come in waves, reminding me that my family is dead.

Felix moves quickly. He picks me up, sits me on the counter, and then pulls my sweatpants off. His expression is hard to read, but his brows are drawn together, eyes focused.

“I almost had it,” I whisper, staring at the water streaming down.

“Having me help you doesn’t make you weak. It’s simply recognizing your limitations while you’re healing,” Felix says.

The reality check makes me feel worse.

“And…you don’t have to be embarrassed around me.”

Easy for him to say.

He isn’t sitting here half naked. I’m dying inside. Steam curls around us while hot water pounds softly against the fiberglass tub.

“Do you have a shower seat?”

“Um, no…but there is a small plastic stool in the kitchen.”

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

He disappears, and I take a deep breath, wincing as my ribs choose that moment to join the rest of my body and remind me that they are cracked.

Felix is back in a blink, and without saying anything, he places the stool carefully beneath the spray.

“You act like you’ve done this before.”

“No, but I did look it up,” he says casually, as if any of this is normal.

“You planned this?”

He stands up straight and crosses his arms, the look in his eyes making me swallow hard.

“Not exactly. But I have been researching how to deal with injuries like yours. Showering is one of the tasks people find difficult. And did you really think I was going to let you get into a slippery tub all by yourself?”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I’m not even sure what to say about that. Who does that? Who is this guy? He swooped in and saved me at a car accident, and now he’s like…a friend…caregiver…angel. The nicest people in the world may take you to the hospital and probably make sure you’re going to live. But then you expect them to leave and go back to their own lives.

“Okay…fine, but once you help me sit on the stool, you can wait outside,” I mutter.

Felix looks at me for a long second, not giving his thoughts away. Then he reaches down and pulls his shirt over his head. My brain stops functioning. The computer screen has gone blue with a spinning wheel. I am frozen, staring at him like a lunatic.

Tattooed skin. A defined stomach with hard abs that disappears into a vee under the low-hung, black jeans. Snow-white hair falls into his icy blue eyes. Holy. Fucking. Hell.

“Wa…wa…what are you doing?” My voice is shaky, and I’m trembling.

“I’m not leaving you.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

Glancing at the door and then up at him again, I can’t decide if I should order him out and call the cops, or get on my knees and thank God for sending Felix.

“You absolutely do not need to get naked for this,” I finally manage to spit out.

“I’m not.”