Fade In (14 page)

“It feels like he broke it, Tatum. You need to go to the hospital. Are you breathing any easier?” He releases an exasperated groan, not waiting for me to respond. “I'm so sorry I didn't get over there fast enough. God, you didn't even want to stay.” The regret in his voice is evident. “I should have just brought you home. Shit. I shouldn't have insisted on going out earlier.”

Since he is still kneeling on the floor behind me, I can't see what his face looks like, but if it is half as sorry as his voice, I don't want to see it.

“It's. Not. Your. Fault. I'm. A. Big. Girl. Can. You. Call. Cooper?” Yeah, this big girl wants her brother.

“Sure. I'll get your phone.” He was up and back before I knew it. “Here it is, Tatum.”

I grabbed the phone and dialed.

Finally, Winnie answers. “Hey, is she all right?”

“It's me.”

“God, Tate. Sorry we aren't there yet. Shit. The cops are here. Kurt might be getting arrested. He sort of got into a fight? That's what taking us so long. Cooper got in the middle.” There's a lot of commotion in the background and it's hard to hear her.

I take as big of a breath as I can. “Yeah, my side…hurts like hell. Kurt got in…a fight?” It's getting a little easier to talk, even though my eyes are still watering from the tenderness. I really just want them to get here.

“Yeah, he hit Pete...with the pool stick. Pete is okay and says he isn't going to press charges, but someone called the cops and they're here now. We will get there as soon as this is all worked out. Cooper is talking to the cops. We'll be right there. Gotta go.” She hangs up and I drop the phone on the bed.

“I should have let…you bring me home…earlier,” I wheeze. “We could have…been in here…having fun.” I try to hold the laugh back from my terrible joke. He comes around the other side of the bed and sits in front of me.

“There you are.” He looks relieved. Ben leans down so that his head is lying on the pillow facing mine and brushes my hair out of my face. “Are you sure you won't go to the hospital? It looks pretty nasty,” he insists.

“They won't do anything…for a broken rib…except wrap it…and send you home. If it even is broken…I'm probably…just a pussy.”

The little bit of blue that swims around in his green eyes lights up at the naughty word that tripped out of my mouth. He gives up. “Do you have an ace bandage?”

“Of course I do. I'm a blind clutz. They are in the…bathroom closet.” I move my arm to point the way and it kills. “Ouch!”

“I'll get you some ice and some pain killers too. Just lie there. Don't move around.”

When Ben returns, he has a tray of supplies.

He warns, “This might hurt.”

“I've heard that before.” I seriously need to learn how to shut the hell up. “I mean, okay. I can take it.”

“Yeah and I've hear that before, too.” He smirks.

“
Touché, Casanova. Can you help me up?”

He comes closer and sets the tray on the mattress. I roll back over to my other side, and I'll be dammed if I can't sit up on my own.

“Hey, just a second. I don't want to pull on your arms. Let me help you.”

He gets so close that his face fits beside mine like a puzzle. Ben slides his arms under me to wrap his arms around my back, crisscrossing them up to my shoulder blades. He's favoring the sore side.

“Are you ready?” he says in my ear, and with those words, I grow feverish. “Just hold on to me. I'll go slow.” Either everything he says is laced with innuendo or I'm just really hard up.

He lifts and it hurts, but I relax when it isn't as bad as I imagined it would be. Once I'm up, he lets go and I don't like it. My arms are still around his neck, and when he grabs my wrist from behind his head to move them away, it feels like a rejection. I know I'm hurt, but I thought we were having a moment. Maybe it was only in my head, like everything else.

“Hey now. What's all this?” His thumb rubs my brow out. “What's in that head? Spit it out.” His intent face begs for me to share my thoughts.

“I don't want to. Can we just get this over with? I'm tired and really sore.” He nods like he's waiting for the joke. It doesn't come. “For real,” I add.

“All right then. Your shirt has to come off. I'll wrap you up and then I'll let Ben & Jerry take it from there.”

My top is a button-down so I move my hands to the top one. I'm not a modest girl. I'm comfortable in my skin. It is just that, in this moment, I'm feeling vulnerable. It's foreign and I don't know what to do with myself.

“Ben, will you turn around? Please.” Without hesitation, he does as I ask. My fingers make light work of the buttons, and I slide my good side out and then let if fall off the other. “Just another second.” I turn around on the bed slowly, because I'm so sore. I don't want to watch him look at me. “Okay. I'm ready.” My head is bowed and I'm slumped forward. I hate having someone else help me.

One of his hands lands on my shoulder and then another matches the other side. It shocks me at first, and then he begins working them into my tight muscles. It's healing. As he gently massages me, every muscle in my neck and back start to relax. I can feel the tension leave my person, but not my mind.

He moves both hands to my right side and works them in time to a beat that lulls me. Fairly, he moves to the left. His long fingers flex on me and run up the back and side of my neck and into my hair. My body involuntarily shivers. I've never been touched like his. If he weren't doing this to make me feel better, I would seem erotic.

“You're cold, aren't you? I just don't want to wrap you up while you're tense. You'll be uncomfortable,” he says like an excuse. “Your skin is so lovely.” He keeps working, massaging away the stress that I've most likely been carrying around for months. “This is going to sound bad, but I think your bra has to come off, too.”

I reach around to fumble for the clasp as pain shoots across my ribcage. I make a sound that's almost a whine.

“Shhh, I'll get that.”

My breath stalls altogether.

He undoes my bra and runs his hands up my back. Then he slips his fingers under the straps on either side. My bra falls loose in front of me and I instinctively hug myself to hide my breasts.

Then he tenderly kisses the top of my head and softly says, “I'm so sorry.”

He's sorry? I am mortified. He probably has much better things to do than take care of an invalid like me.
Pity, party of one.

“You'll need to raise your arms so I can get the bandage around you correctly. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” I lift, and before I know it, he's got me wrapped up like a mummy. It's tight and it feels really good, like it's holding me together.

“Better?”

I nod.

“Can I get you some PJs or something? I can help you lift them over your head.”

“Thank you. There are some tank tops and sweat pants in the closet on the shelf. Anything will work. And socks too?” I realize he must have taken my shoes off at some point, because my feet are cold.

“Anything you need, Tatum. That's what I'm here for.”

I think,
Yeah right. Anything. How about a time machine so I can go back and watch where the fuck I'm going?

This is all so messed up. If he's smart, he'll resign tomorrow.

“You know you don't have to do all of this. I will pay you for working so late. I'm sorry you've wasted your whole night, Ben. Really. This is pretty embarrassing.”

He walks back into my room frowning. “What part is embarrassing?” He lists, “Getting your rib broken while trying to help a drunk friend get his shit together? Um, not complaining about the plate-size bruise you already have forming on your beautiful skin? Nothing about how you're acting is embarrassing.” His gaze lowers to the floor as he steps back to me. “I think you're graceful.”

“Are you high? I'm the least graceful person on planet Earth!” I'm still holding my boobies in my hands so I decide that now isn't the best time to pretend I don't like compliments. “Thanks for saying that, but you don't have to. Can you just put that over my head so I can put these down already?”

This makes him grin. Ben opens the top of the shirt and slides it down around me, and I let my arms come through.

I take my pants off and kick them across the floor, hoping that by tomorrow I'll be able to at least bend over and pick them up. I pull the sweats up slowly, and I'm dressed.
Ta-da.

“Look. They will be here in a few minutes. And like you said, Ben & Jerry can handle it from here. You can get on with your night,” I say, coming off a bit short.

His shifts his stance and plants his foot. “Did I upset you or something? Because I have apologized for not listening to what you needed today. Or are you just frustrated and irritated that your sight is unmistakably getting worse? Because if that's it, I can take it. But if I did something wrong, you need to let me fix it.”

“Whoa. I have known you for two days, mister. Where do you get off?” I am mad. It's none of his business.

“I told you that I could take your mouth if you'd be able to take mine. Now here it is. You're cramming all that fear and pride down inside yourself and it's going to explode soon, Tatum. I've only known you for what, like, forty-eight hours? Hell, I can see it. You tell it like it is to everyone but yourself.” He turns around in a circle like he's trying to cool off, his hands laced together behind his neck as he faces the door leading out.

“You don't even know me,” I retort.

He spins back. “We'll see about that.”

“How did you know about the job opening?” I blurt. “Because Neil's friend at the employment place didn't send anyone named Ben.”

“I just happened to hear about it. Are you firing me?” he challenges.

“No. But don't go pointing your judgy finger in my face about being all honest with myself. There is something weird about you just showing up. If you weren't so hot, I would have told you to leave.” My hands are on my hips. I mean business.

His face softens for a split second then resets back into a handsome glower. “Don't try to flatter me when I'm being serious.”

“I'm not. You're hot. You're so fucking hot. Hands-down the hottest personal assistant I have.” In my head and out my mouth. I need a muzzle.

“Well, your other assistant isn't that bad.” He raises an eyebrow and cracks a mischievous half grin.

“Do you want his number? Because Neil thinks you're hotter than I do. He would be more than happy to hear from you.” I realize I like arguing with him more than I like pleasantly speaking to most people. It's fun now that I can tell real argument has passed. My specialty—bait-and-switch.

“No. I'm not interested.”

“Good. I'd hate to have to fire you both.”

“Is this how we’re going to be?” Ben asks with both palms outstretched towards me. “Boss and employee by day and…I don't know? Flirty and argumentative by night?”

“We could just fuck and get it over with already,” I declare, but when I hear the words, they sound ugly off my tongue.

He moves lightning fast and it startles me. In two strides, our personal space is shared. His eyes are wide and they peer straight into me. “Tatum, if it comes to something like that”—he motions between our barely separate bodies—”in the future with us, then it won't be just fucking. And, doll, you won't ever want it
over already
.” He exhales noisily. “I think you're feeling better. I'm going home.”

I just stand here.

Two nights in a row that motherfucker has bested me.

Two nights in a row he's left me horny as hell.

Two nights in a row I have to make a valiant effort to not beg him for more.

I hear, “Call me if you need anything. Tatum. Anything,” when he gets to my front door.

Then he's gone.

Thank God Cooper and Winnie show up about half an hour later and distract me from calling him. Not that I was going to.

The lovebirds stayed the night in my spare bedroom. They’d insisted that they wanted to be here if I needed to go the hospital, but I knew I wouldn't.

Cooper called me stubborn mule-bitch, but I didn’t have a defense. He's right.

I am taking today off. There's no way in hell I can get out of bed in any efficient capacity. Looking at my side, you would think I was hit by a Mack truck going at least forty.

Winnie makes me breakfast and coffee, hangs around, and then goes on to work. I tell her that she has to go so Pete doesn't jump off a building. I call into the office around eight and talk to him, letting him know it wasn't his fault. I tell him that I honestly didn't see him and I should have been paying more attention. He admonishes my self-placed blame and offers to pay for any medical bills.

He also tells me that my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, I correct him—grabbed a pool stick off the wall after Cooper let him go and whacked him a few good times in the back. He said that if Kurt would have been sober and had a better aim—because he only really connected with him a few times—that he'd probably be worse off than I am.

After talking to him, I look through my phone to see that I have some texts.

Kurt
: That was bad. I'm sorry. Call me.

Delete.

Ben
: I'll be there in an hour. Do you want me to pick anything up for you?