Page 25 of Proof Of Life

He splashes water in my face as he kicks off, grunting as he heads toward Riggs. I breathe a sigh of relief when he makes it with a triumphant smile. On the return trip back to me, I hold my breath in anticipation until he reaches the safety of my arms.

“That’s good, Wardell. The more time you spend in the pool practicing, the stronger you’ll become. We tend to use muscles in the water that we don't normally use outside the pool.”

West looks up at me with his spiky wet lashes, his breath still coming hard and fast, and asks, “Will you help me?”

Until my dying breath. “Of course, I’ll help you.”

“All right gentlemen, I’ve got another patient to meet back in the gym. Feel free to use the pool a little longer until you’re ready to get out. Keep practicing, Wardell. You’re doing great.”

I have him all to myself. A feeling of peace and serenity cradles me. The lights aren’t as bright here, and the sound of the water gently lapping at the sides of the pool is a calm, soothing lullaby. Apparently, West thinks so too.

“Can we be done exercising and just relax?”

“Sounds perfect.”

We tuck pool noodles under our arms and just float on our bellies. I can feel the tight muscles in my body begin to relax for the first time in… Fuck, I’ve lost count.

“We should go for massages,” I blurt, impressed with my own bright idea.

West barely grunts in response. He probably doesn’t want anyone to touch him. I see him get tense when the nurse examines him. Even if one of the staff casually touches his shoulder when they’re talking to him, he gets all stiff and scowly.

“I could massage you,” I offer.

“Yeah? Maybe.”

Well, that wasn’t a no. He could really use it though. I’ll bet he’s so tense he’s ready to snap. Reacting without thinking, I drift over to him and ditch my pool noodle, taking his hips in my hands again.

“What are you doing?”

“Just relax and lean back against me.” My voice sounds as mellow as the water. West doesn’t resist, just sort of melts against my chest with a sigh. My hands move over his hips, down his thighs, and back up again to his waist. I slide them up under his lower back, kneading his flesh with light but firm strokes, and I feel the last of his resistance bleed away.

“I didn’t know you have magic hands.”

“Just ask around, the girls will tell you.”

He chuckles. “Speaking of, I think my occupational therapist has a thing for you. She spends most of our session asking questions about you.”

“How frustrating for you,” I tease.

“She said I get my leg tomorrow. My prosthetic. I have to come in an hour earlier than my normal time to get squared away with it. She’s going to show me how to put it on and take it off, and how to care for it and my skin.”

“West, that’s fucking awesome. It’s gonna be great, you’ll see.”

He would see. I would make him see.

“Yeah, maybe. You want me to give her your number?”

“Fuck no.” Here I am excited about his leg, about his future, and he’s worried about me? Christ.

“Why not? She’s kind of cute.”

“So are you. Since we're already living together, and we shower together, I’ll just stick with you.”

“You’re a funny guy, you know that? A real fucking comedian.”

To fuck with him, I slide my hands down his back to cup the perfect cheeks of his ass, giving them a gentle squeeze. I’m prepared for him to headbutt me, or say something cutting, but instead, he just sighs with pleasure.

“Oh my God that feels so good. Been a long time since I’ve had a butt massage.”

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