Page 70 of I Got You

I want to. Oh, I really want to, but it’s way too tempting, and then you add on his apparent sickly neediness, and we have a recipe for disaster. Shane wants simple. Platonic. Unhindered. I kind of want to mix things up and see what happens, buuuuuttttt not when Shane is clearly out of his mind.

“How about you sleep a little longer? I’ll make you something to eat and wake you up in a little bit.”

“No. Stay here. Talk to me.” He says it so quietly like he’s embarrassed to ask. How in the world could I say no?

I take a breath, feeling like I’m crossing my own line in the sand. A line that once I toe over, feelings are going to start to take shape that I know will be one-sided. Shane has a whole impenetrable sealed cinder block wall somewhere way out to sea, but sick Shane seems to be floating close to shore. I like it. I like it a lot, but I know it won’t last.

Soooo, I climb up on the bed and sit next to him. He flings his big arm over my legs and pulls me closer, burying his face in my thigh. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling him relax. I don’t talk, hoping he’ll go back to sleep.

I’m pretty sure Shane’s brain goes a hundred miles a minute all…the…time. Looking at him now, his features soft and gentle, I can’t help but see the little boy who had no one. I let my fingers move through his hair, hoping to soothe him and give him something he’s probably rarely had before, if ever. Comfort.

I want to hold him and let him know he’s safe because a big part of me thinks he’s never felt that before. Hopefully, asking me to stay and me sitting here is a beginning for him.

After a while and his warmth, I rest my head against the headboard and snooze, waking when he rolls over. I check the time on my phone and see that if he’s going to make it to practice, he needs to get up soon. I scoot off the bed and go into the bathroom to start the water in the big tub. I hear rustling and turn around to see Shane sitting up, rubbing his face.

“What are you doing?” He coughs, and it sounds awful.

“Running you a bath. Get your big butt in here and soak in some bath salts. It’ll help open things up and get you through practice.”

He groans and looks around. “A bath? What?”

“Don’t ask questions. Get in here. You kind of smell.”

“At one point, I thought I was burning alive.”

“Well, yeah. You destroyed the bed, so while you’re gone, I’m going to wash everything. Hurry up. I have soup in the kitchen. I’ll get you some and a Gatorade to take with you.”

I let the steaming hot bath run as the room fills with the scent of eucalyptus and spearmint. I start collecting the duvet and sheets as Shane stands, stretching.

“Maggie.” His soft tone causes me to stop.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks…for staying.”

I smirk. “Will you take care of me when I’m sick?”

He stares at me for a few long seconds, and my skin starts to heat. “I’m probably not very good at it, but I’ll try.” He’s so serious, but there’s a hint of insecurity.

Ugh. I’m getting confused about what is going on here. I don’t need confusion. I need straightforward. Too many things are happening right now, and Shane and I need uncomplicated. Easy. Simple. Friendship.

I finish stripping the bed as he closes the bathroom door. Friends. We’re going to be friends. So it doesn’t matter how many muscles he has, or how sexy he looks in his glasses, or how I could listen to him read to me for hours about some trek across mountains, or how confident and strong he is, or how underneath the tough exterior resides a sweet and gentle and generous man. All of those things will make an excellent…friend.

Now, I just need to get my mind and body to quit playing tug of war because I can see myself falling really hard for someone who has no desire or intention to ever fall back.

Chapter 24

SHANE

I wake up in my hotel room groggy and coughing. We flew in last night, and even though I’m feeling better, I’m still not one hundred percent. I miss feeling Maggie’s small body shoved up next to me. The king-size beds I’ve been used to since I could afford one no longer feel the same if she’s not in it.

I have a vague recollection of the morning I woke up sick, and I’ve replayed those memories over and over in my mind, not wanting to let them slip away. I remember asking Maggie to stay with me, and at one time, I’d be embarrassed by my weakness, but I can’t be embarrassed about something I want to do all over again.

A stronger man wouldn’t have let his guard down. He wouldn’t crave the presence of his wife, but I did. I caved. I wanted Maggie next to me. I wanted to hear her voice and be surrounded by her touch and scent. I wanted her comfort and only hers.

So I allowed myself to indulge in Maggie. Then, after taking my temperature and making sure I was ok, she hurried about and stripped right in front of me, likely thinking I was asleep. She stood there taking off and throwing on clothes so quickly I barely saw a thing. What I know is I want to see more and not just of Maggie’s bare skin. I want to see a lot more skin but also all the things that make up the insides of Maggie Matthews. Carter. Maggie Carter. The one who signed the paperwork, putting her name next to mine. I want to know her like I’ve never cared to know another person.

I know I shouldn’t, but I want more than the feel of Maggie’s hand on my forehead. I want her to run her fingers through my hair every night because it’s natural and comfortable. I want her to talk to me and tell me everything like she told me about Danny and what happened in New York. I want her to dance again. I want her to prove to herself that she can and not give up over some guy who shouldn’t have had her in the first place. I know she can do it, but I want her to know she’s that good because I have no doubt.

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