Page 20 of Keep You Close

I managed to get myself off the couch and onto one foot, movement only made possible by the pain pills still working through my system.

But the second I tried to twist my body around to drop onto the chair, blinding fucking pain screamed through my side, enough to make me try to sit back down on the couch, but I misjudged the distance, and felt my stomach bottom out as I realized I was going to fall, and there was no fucking way to try to stop or brace myself thanks to a bum leg, shoulder, and braced fingers.

“Fuck,” I growled the second my ass met the hard ground, the impact sending another wave of pain through me as I knocked over the chair in the process, making it crash down onto the floor.

Distantly through the sound of my own ragged breathing, I heard the dog, Samson, barking at the disruption.

Then the sound of the bedroom door slamming against the wall as it was thrown open, and the slap of bare feet on the hardwood as AJ came running.

Looking over, I saw her rushing toward me.

Without any goddamn pants on, her shapely legs on display under the hem of her t-shirt. A t-shirt that was doing little to hide the bounce of her tits under the material as she ran toward me, her dark hair flying out behind her.

And, fuck, she was even prettier not all made up for the day. With pillow creases still on her face, her hair a little tangled. Her brown eyes all sleepy.

“Oh my God,” she cried, righting the chair, but only because it was in her way, then dropping down onto her knees next to me.

And I had a serious silent conversation with my body, begging it not to react to her. Especially when I was going to need her help getting off the damn floor.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Fuck, she smelled good too.

Something kind of sweet, but not overly perfumy. Maybe lotion she’d put on before bed or something.

It wasn’t helping.

I sucked in a deep breath, forcing my mind back to my pain, not all her pretty.

“Tried to get on the chair,” I told her. “Overestimated my ability to twist without nearly blacking out in pain.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, sounding genuinely hurt that I hadn’t.

“It’s five in the morning.”

“So?” she said, shaking her head. “If you need help, you need help. Don’t be so proud,” she said, moving to stand.

And flashing her pretty pink panties with the little white hearts in the process.

What the hell was the matter with me?

It wasn’t like I’d never been around a woman in a tee and panties before. And so what if she was gorgeous? I’d known many gorgeous women in the past. Had seen them in far less clothing, even.

“Okay,” she said, back on her feet, and reaching down to grab my forearm.

“Sweetheart, I’m too heavy,” I told her, shaking my head.

“Boys,” she said, rolling her eyes at me. “Always thinking girls are so weak and fragile. I have moved that couch at least half a dozen times since I moved in,” she told me. “If I can lift the couch, I can lift you.”

I wanted to tell her that it was one thing to shift a couch around and a complete other to deadlift a full-grown man.

But given the circumstances, what choice did we have but to try? It was that, or call and wake up one of my siblings at this hour.

“Okay. We can try. But the only way it’s gonna work is if I put an arm around your neck, and you put yours around my waist, then we can kind of pull against each other.”

“Right. Okay,” she said, dropping my arm. “We can do that.”

“Don’t bend over. You’ll just fall on top of me. Here, do a lunge toward me,” I said, trying not to watch as she did so. As soon as she was close, I let my arm go around her neck.

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