Page 39 of Quiet Longing

A grin tugged at my lips, too, while I bumped him with my hip. “And so you should. I could’ve been swimming every day since I arrived. I might’ve had a bikini body by now if I’d been doing laps.”

Rhys glanced down at where I bumped him before his eyes rose to mine, a warmth in them that was almost indulgent. My chest tingled. I liked it when he looked at me that way. “I take it you like swimming, then?”

“It’s my preferred form of exercise, yes, though I’ve never had access to a private indoor pool before. This could be a game changer for me.”

Rhys nodded, returning his attention to the dishes, and I quietly began drying and placing them in the rack to be redistributed.

“What’s a bikini body?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Isn’t it self-explanatory? It’s a body that looks good in a bikini.”

Rhys cast me a quick glance, and there was the faintest hint of flirtation in his eyes when he answered, “I don’t know about a bikini, but you looked pretty good in that one-piece at the beach.”

His statement was so matter of fact it took me off guard, and I spent a moment wrangling the butterflies in my stomach before elbowing him in the side. “If you’re trying to butter me up so I’ll take over washing, it won’t work. You know I prefer to dry.”

Rhys sighed playfully, feigning like I was a chore to work with. “Such a princess.”

I smiled to myself as we resumed working. Things got hectic as soon as the dinner rush set in, and we didn’t have much time for talking. I couldn’t stop thinking about him commenting on my body, how he’d thought I looked good in my swimsuit that day at the beach. I shivered every time I remembered him uttering those words. I also really enjoyed him calling me a princess, the hint of teasing in his voice.

There was only a little over an hour left on our shifts when one of the hotel supervisors instructed us to go to the service entrance and load a food delivery onto carts to be brought into storage. I’d received food safety and manual handling training during my first few days at the hotel, but clearly, the manual handling went right over my head because I made the fatal error of not lifting from the knees. As soon as I picked up the heavy box, a sharp spike of pain shot up my spine, and I cried out a very unladylike curse word.

“Charli?” Rhys asked in concern, immediately at my side. I was too afraid to move, and the box was too heavy to just let it drop, so I stood there in agony, frozen in place and still holding it in a death grip.

“I think I did something to my back,” I said in a stiff, pained voice.

“Okay, stay still and let me take that.” Rhys gently took the box from me, and the relief was immediate. The pain in my back, which I noted was centred around my right shoulder, remained.

“You might have pulled a muscle,” Rhys said, slowly guiding me back into the hotel. “Do you think you can make it to the staff room so I can take a look?”

“Yes, I think so,” I managed, vaguely aware of his large, warm hand against my hip and his arm around my waist.

“Just try not to make any swift movements and hold your neck in the same position,” Rhys said, his voice soothing. I’d never injured my back like this before, so I had nothing to compare it to. All I knew was the pain was excruciating.

“Oh shite, what happened?” one of the other hotel workers asked when we entered the staff room.

“She did something to her back lifting boxes of tinned tomatoes,” Rhys explained, and somehow knowing an item as innocuous as tinned tomatoes did this to me was a little infuriating.

“Ah hell, that’s bad luck. Back pain is no joke. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Rhys cast me a questioning look. “Do you?”

I shook my head. “It hurts, but I don’t think it requires a hospital visit.” I wasn’t sure how Irish medical care worked, but back home, seeing a doctor was expensive. I didn’t want to burden my uncle like that even if he was loaded. He was already being generous enough hosting me for the summer. Plus, Mom would blow a gasket if she found out her brother had to fork out for hospital bills. She’d insist on paying him back, and money had been tight lately.

The hotel worker left, and Rhys helped me over to a bench to sit. The pain was beginning to subside a little as I gripped the edge of the bench. Rhys knelt in front of me, his blue eyes etched with concern as his hands came to rest on my knees. The warmthof his palms momentarily distracted me from the pain, and I instinctively reached out, grabbing one of his hands. I interlaced our fingers, and he allowed me to do it, seeming to understand I needed the comfort. He gave a gentle squeeze, and I savoured the feel of his palm on mine alongside the soothing sweep of his thumb over the inside of my wrist.

“How are you now?” he asked, studying me intently.

“A little better. I think I just need to lie down and take some painkillers.”

Rhys nodded, and with his free hand, he checked the time on his phone. “Our shift is over soon. I’ll cover for you and finish with those boxes.” He was typing something on his phone one handed. “I’m just texting Derek to come pick you up.”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t need to come. I can walk.”

“You’re in no state to walk,” he argued just as his phone vibrated with a text. “Derek said he’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

I didn’t bother arguing because Rhys was right. I was in no state to walk. Finally, releasing my hand, he rose and turned to his locker, pulling out a small jar and a packet of pills. “Here, take these,” he said, handing me what looked like two Tylenol, or whatever the Irish equivalent was, before he went to grab me some water. I took the pills then glanced at the jar.

“What’s this?”

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