Page 49 of Memphis

“Things that bad?”

“We just got a new case.” I started putting the dishes in the dishwasher as I told him, “It’s one of the bigger ones we’ve had, and everyone’s a bit keyed up about it.”

“I’m sure your co-workers aren’t happy that you aren’t there to help.”

“Actually, they’ve been very understanding. I’m good at what I do, and they know it.” I closed the dishwasher as I added, “But that being said, I have a report to finish for pre-trial, so I better get to it.”

“Don’t let me hold you up.”

“Can I do something for you before I get started?” He paused for a moment, and I could tell he was struggling to ask me for help. “If you need something, you have to tell me, Wes. I can’t read your mind.”

“I’m kind of beat. I was thinking I’d go on and head to bed. Probably going to need a hand.”

“Of course.”

He started towards his room, and I followed quickly behind. It was the first time I’d helped him out of his chair, and I could feel my nerves building up inside of me. I knew he hated this, and I didn’t want to make things even harder for him by screwing this up.

When we got to his room, I told him, "Okay, you’re going to have to tell me what I need to do.”

“Just secure the chair and stand by in case I fuck up.”

“I can do that.” I locked the brakes on his wheelchair before pulling his walker over in front of him. “Okay, all set.”

He gave me a nod, then planted his feet on the floor. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

He grunted in response, and with a strained groan, his muscled tensed as he started to pull himself up. His jaw set when I placed my hand on his hips, and I knew he was doing all he could to keep it together. His body was heavy against mine as he reached for his walker. Once he had his footing, he glanced back at me and said, “I’ve got it.”

“Okay.”

I released my hold and watched as he used every muscle in his core to make his way towards the bathroom. You could see how hard it was for him to shift his legs forward, but he didn’t complain. He just pushed himself to keep going, and I found it to be unbelievably sexy.

I knew it was wrong.

I had no business being so attracted to him, especially now. He was working so hard to get his life back, and every time I saw him wince in pain or struggle to do something he used to do with ease, my heart ached for him. His resilience, his determination, and even his frustration made me want him more and more. I’d tried to fight it, but then he would look at me in that way—so intense, vulnerable, yet full of fire—and it was like a magnet pulling me closer.

There was an undeniable chemistry between us that I couldn’t ignore. It was both confusing and intoxicating all at once, leaving me torn between doing what was right and giving in to the desire that was growing between us. I was battling the thoughts in my head when I heard the water turn off in the bathroom, and the door opened.

Seconds later, Wes appeared with a bead of sweat across his brow. I started over to him but stopped when he shook his head and grumbled, “I’ve got it.”

I froze and waited as he continued forward. His cheeks were red, and his breath labored when he finally made it over to the bed. His steps slowed, and his body started to sway. He wasgiving out, and, like it or not, I had to help him. I stepped up behind him and slipped my hands around his waist, and we took his last few steps together.

Once he was on the bed, he settled back on his pillows with a sigh. I started to pull away but suddenly stopped. His eyes met mine, and before I realized what I was doing, I was leaning toward him and pressing my lips against his.

The kiss was brief.

Innocent.

It was just a momentary loss in judgment, so I quickly pulled back and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I...”

"Antonia.” Before I could respond, he pulled me closer and kissed me again. His lips were soft but insistent, and for a moment, I lost myself in it—in him. It was just like the night we first met. I was helpless to resist. He was just too tempting. Then, without warning, he pulled back, his expression hardening. “Been wanting to do that since the day you showed up at the hospital.”

"Weston," I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

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