Page 12 of While You Were Spying
“Is this your excuse to see me naked?”
She bursts out laughing, but there’s no missing the flush in her cheeks. “Aren’t you the funny guy?”
I follow her upstairs and into my bedroom. She goes to my drawers, then studies me like I’m some sort of lab experiment. “How easy will it be for you to put on a T-shirt afterward?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem.” Or I’m assuming it won’t be a problem.
“When was the last time you had your meds?”
I shrug my good shoulder.
“Liam told me you’re supposed to have them every four hours, and he said you had some at the hospital. Did you have any at the office?”
“I don’t need them.” More like I didn’t appreciate how they made me feel.
“Are you sure? Because I have a feeling you’re going to need them. There’s only so far that being a big tough alpha male will take you.”
“I don’t want to risk getting addicted to them.” That happened to some of my former brothers after they were injured in the line of duty.
I’d rather roll in a puddle of honey and be fed to an army of pissed-off red ants than risk addiction.
“Fair enough. What about over-the-counter drugs? Are you willing to have those?”
“Sure. If I need them.”
She nods, but I have no idea whether she’s nodding at what I said or a question posed in her head.
She pulls open my top drawer, and before I can stop her, she removes a pair of underwear. “Black boxer briefs? Very nice.”
“God, woman, do you have no shame?” I yank them away from her. But really, it’s me who has no shame. Because the sight of her handling my underwear has my cock tightening in my jeans.
What are you doing, asshole?I mentally chastise myself. She and I are friends and colleagues. Nothing more.
“Apparently not.” She walks out of my room and enters the master bathroom.
I follow her.
“Do you need to wear the sling in the shower?”
“I’m supposed to wear it for the next two weeks, but I never asked if that also meant in the shower.” It didn’t dawn on me at the time to do that.
She looks from me to my large walk-in shower, with the frosted door and the gleaming white tiles. “You’re probably not supposed to get the wound wet for a few days.”
“That does sound familiar.”
“What else did they tell you?”
“I don’t really remember.”
That doesn’t seem to surprise her. “Hold on a second. I want to check on something first.” She leaves the bathroom and returns a few minutes later, talking on her phone.
“Okay.…Okay.…Is there anything else I should know?…Right. Thanks.” She ends the call. “According to Liam, whowaspaying attention to the doctor’s instructions, you aren’t supposed to shower for the next three days. So in the meantime, I’ll give you sponge baths.”
I feel my eyebrows jump up my forehead. “Liam actually told you to give me sponge baths?”Shit. What was the asshole thinking?
“Of course not. He said that until you’re allowed to shower again—and baths, by the way, are banned for now—you’ll have to settle with a sponge bath. I just took it upon myself, as your best friend, to interpret that to mean I’ll be helping you. It’s not like I haven’t seen you half-naked before.”
By half-naked, she means I was wearing basketball shorts and only basketball shorts. I had stripped off my T-shirt after we had gone for a run together. She had bemoaned the fact that she wasn’t allowed to do the same.
