Page 46 of Praying for Rain

“Hey,” he says, his voice as soft and cautious as his footsteps as he crosses the bathroom to help.

Once he reaches me, I drop my hands in defeat and let him unfasten it, concentrating on the way his fingertips feel against my skin.

“Breathe, okay?” he whispers, guiding my opened bra down my arms and onto the floor at my feet. “Just breathe.”

I do as he said, inhaling the steamy air through my nose until my lungs can’t hold anymore. My whole body sags as I exhale.

Wes’s hands grip the muscles on either side of my neck and squeeze, almost to the point of pain, before releasing and moving a few inches down to my shoulders. He squeezes and releases again, moving down to my biceps. By the time his hands are at my wrists, I’m a limp noodle, leaning backward against his hot, clammy chest.

“You’re thinking about what happened at the grocery store, aren’t you?”

I nod even though that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Just a pebble tossed on top of the mountain of shit I’m trying to keep submerged.

“Well, don’t. You saved my life by taking those guys out, and now, you’re doing it all over again with this.” Wes sweeps his hand over to the cluster of orange bottles on the counter behind us.

Dropping his chapped lips to my bare shoulder, he reaches in front of me to unbutton my jeans. Wes slides my pants and panties down my legs as I splay my trembling hands on the steamy shower door and step out of them.

Standing back up, Wes wraps his arms around me from behind. His erection nuzzles into the crease of my ass, but his embrace doesn’t feel sexual. It feels like he’s trying to hold me together.

“Why are you doing all this for me?”

My stomach churns out a fresh batch of acid as my heart begins to pound through my back against Wes’s chest.

How do I answer that without sounding even crazier than he already suspects that I am?

Because I think I might be in love with you.

Because, before I met you, I hadn’t smiled in a month.

Because I don’t want to lose you.

Because you’re my only reason for living.

“Look at me.”

I hold my breath as Wes turns my body around to face him. Then, with a swallow, I lift my head and accept my fate. I let him see me in all my naked, bruised, fucked up glory. Even sick, Wes’s beauty takes my breath away. His pale green eyes are rimmed in red—tired and determined, hopeless and hopeful. His dark eyebrows pull together as he chews on the inside of his bottom lip. He’s looking at me like I’m a precious puzzle, and everything else fades away. More than the pills or the memories or the fear of what tomorrow will bring, I realize that I am a slave to that look. I would do anything, give anything, to spend what’s left of my short life watching Wes watching me.

He asks his question again, “Why are you doing this, Rain? Why are you taking care of me?”

“Because … I like taking care of people?” It’s not a lie. “I was gonna start nursing school last fall, but then, you know, everything went to shit. But, seeing as how I can’t even keep my first patient from getting an infection, it’s probably for the best.”

I attempt a smile, but Wes doesn’t return it. His intense, bloodshot eyes dart back and forth between mine while he makes up his mind about me. Then, he nods.

“What?” My cheeks suddenly feel as if I’m the one with the fever.

“Nothing. Come on. Shower’s hot.”

I blink, and Wes is gone, replaced with a plume of steam from the opening and closing of the shower door.

I follow him in and freeze at the sight of his head thrown back under the spray. Rivulets of warm water crisscross over his chest and slide into the valleys between his abs. Wes is no more than a foot away from me, but I feel as though I couldn’t touch him even if I wanted to. He’s shut me out, and I don’t even know why.

I feel like, if things were normal right now, this is the part where Wes would tell me he’d call me on his way out the door, never to be heard from again.

I don’t know what I did, but I messed up. I gave the wrong answer, and now, I’m being shunned for it.

“Wes.” My wavering, raspy voice is almost completely drowned out by the roar of the shower. I clear my throat and continue, a little louder, “Wes.”

He turns to look at me but flinches and curses under his breath as the hard spray lands directly on his gaping wound.

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