Page 30 of Flirting with the Scrooge

“How are you feeling?” I lower myself to a chair and pull it up next to the bed.

“Like I sliced my foot with an axe.”

A small laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s fair. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“No, but will you stay?”

“Of course.” I rest my hand on his, mostly so he knows I’m here and maybe for comfort. “The doctor said he’s finishing up your paperwork and then you can go home. I got all the papers and cleaning instructions for you.”

“Thanks.” He rolls his head so he’s not looking at me anymore and instead at the ceiling.

* * *

I back my SUV up into my driveway. That way, he’ll be closer to the front door. I get out and round the hood and open the passenger door.

“This isn’t my house.” Connor’s voice is still groggy from the pain medication they gave him.

“It’s not. It’s mine. I wasn’t going to carry you up your stairs.” I wrap one of his arms around my shoulders for balance. He towers over me while I guide him up to my front door. Digging into my pocket, I shuffle and shift my weight to prevent Connor from toppling over so I can unlock the door. Once inside, we wobble our way past the living room and down a short hallway. Since my bedroom will be the most comfortable place, that’s where I lead him.

“The doctor said you should limit movements for a day to let some of the swelling go down.”

“You’re really pretty.” His words slur.

A laugh mixes with a grunt as I maneuver him through the doorway. “Thanks.”

“No. You’re like really fucking pretty.”

I bend over and his butt flops onto the mattress.

A smile teases my lips. “You already said that.”

He releases a long, deep sigh. “I’m an idiot.”

I untie his one boot that’s still on and slip it off his foot and glance up at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because I slept with you.”

So, the truth comes out. I spent so many hours replaying the night we shared, and he regrets it. I’m really the one who’s an idiot. “So, you’re an idiot because you slept with me?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. With jerky movements, his hand cups my cheek. His thumb gently brushes back and forth, and I can’t help but lean into his warm palm. “Because I want to do it again.”

I freeze. Did he just say what I think he said? He wants to have sex again. Would it be weird if I asked him to repeat what he said? Shit. Now, too much time has passed for me to ask, and it will most definitely be weird. I rise to my feet, maybe a little too fast. “I’m going to get the rest of the things out of the car.”

I rush out the door, but before I get no more than two steps down the hallway, I stop and lean against the wall. He’s been thinking about me. Or he’s just saying all that because of the pain meds. This would be better if he wasn’t drugged up. I’m sure by tomorrow he won’t even remember what he said. I blow out a heavy breath and push off the wall.

After I collect his hospital paperwork from the car, I head back to the bedroom. He’s lying on the comforter, and his chest slowly rises and falls as his feet dangle off the edge. My gaze wanders up and down his large frame. There is no way that position is going to be comfortable in a couple of hours. I lift his arm and it drops back to the bed. And there’s no way I’m moving dead weight either.

Gently, I push his shoulder to wake him. “Connor.” I give his shoulder a shake. “Connor. Let’s get you up on the bed more.”

He moans and groans before his eyes blink open.

“Let’s get you more comfortable.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he nods.

With his help, I’m able to get him scooted up the bed. I grab the corner of a light blanket and tug it over him. His eyes flutter closed. Spinning around, I step backward but his hand on my wrist stops me.

“Stay.” His voice is low, and his eyelids are fighting to stay open.

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