Page 17 of The Only Time

I grab my phone and text Mia.

Me: Umm I have an odd favor to ask.

She texts back within seconds.

Mia: What can I do?

Me: I’m trying to get the plastic bag taped over my arm so I can shower. It’s proving to be rather difficult.

Mia: I’ll be right there

Before I can respond, she’s knocking on the bathroom door. I open it, standing in my t-shirt and boxers, suddenly feeling exposed. Mia is in another silky pajama set. I have to force my eyes to remain above her neck at all times.

I run a hand through my hair as she studies me.

“First of all, why are you still in your shirt?” she asks.

My shoulders sink. “Because I couldn’t get my shirt off either. If I move this arm even an inch, it’s throbbing in pain.”

“I think we need to start with that. It’s steamy in here. How long has the water been running?”

She approaches me and I sense a slight amount of hesitancy in her steps. Her hand reaches for the bottom of my shirt. I keep my eyes on hers as she glides my shirt up my chest. It feels extremely intimate, like she’s taking my shirt off for an entirely different reason.

I can’t help but stare into her eyes, noticing the beautiful light brown color with specks of gold.

The air in the room becomes thick. I try to swallow back this feeling settling in my throat, but it feels like it gets stuck. It must be all the steam in here.

“It’s probably been thirty minutes. I’ve been struggling for a while,” I admit.

“Ok, slip your good arm out of the sleeve.” I follow her instructions as she holds the sleeve for me to do so. “I think that gives us enough slack to get it over your head. Then we can maneuver it down your other arm so you don’t have to move it.”

I bend my head to help her as she pulls the material up. As soon as my head is out, she slowly lets the shirt fall down my arm. I catch her looking at my stomach as my shirt falls to the floor. Her tongue slips out and licks her bottom lip.

Now it definitely doesn’t feel like the steam making it hard to breathe.

She grabs the bag and makes quick work as she wraps my arm up to my shoulder.

“How does that look?” she asks as she places the final piece of tape on my shoulder.

“Better than I could have done. Thanks for helping. I realize this isn’t what you signed up for when you decided to stay here.”

“I don’t mind. Consider it a thank you for letting me crash at your place. I’m sensing Layla pushed this on you rather than you offering it up willingly.”

Is that true? Yes.So why do I feel like a dick for being so transparent and that she noticed? It’s been years since I’ve evengiven a second thought to what a woman thinks about me. Why do I care now?

I’m probably just tired from the events of the night. I’ll feel better tomorrow when I get some sleep.

I turn towards the shower, realizing she’s watching me and not leaving.

“Are you going to be able to…umm…shower,” she asks as I notice her cheeks blush. It’s a good look on her.

I don’t think it will be easy, but I can get it done. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

She nods her head then starts to back away. “Just holler if you need anything. I’ll leave our doors open so I can hear you.”

When I step in the shower, I wince at the pain as the hard droplets hit the plastic bag over my stitches. It’s extremely sensitive. This needs to be done quickly. I just want to go to bed.

Once I finally dry off, I only manage to get on sweatpants, deciding against the hassle of putting on a shirt. I get my sling back on and fall into bed. Despite my best efforts not to, I fall asleep picturing Mia’s breasts.

---