Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
He’s in pain. He’s probably used to people bending over backward to do his bidding. I couldn’t handle a migraine without getting grouchy, and I didn’t even have people around to deal with my bullshit.
I’d thought about it, and short of pawning him off on someone despite his request, it wasn’t like I could call emergency services to come pick him up. That would raise too many red flags and bring way too much attention on me. Mostly though, he had asked. Even if he didn’t remember, I did.
I had to suck this shit up and do it. It was the least I could do after everything he’d done. And if he wanted chicken, I’d get him chicken. He wanted steak? I’d give him steak. Just not this instant. I wasn’t his maid. “I can see about picking some up tomorrow,” I tried to compromise too.
From his expression, that wasn’t soon enough, but the nearest store still open was an hour and a half away.
He might be The Defender, and he might deserve the world for the things he’d done, but driving that far at night?
No.
“The store is closed already.”
I’d always thought my grandma’s glares could say a million words, but from the look of it, she wasn’t the only one with that power.
Unfortunately for him, I thought he was amazing but not amazing enough to drive in the darkness to go buy groceries.
“Unless your body is totally different than mine, which I don’t think it is since you didn’t throw up when I fed you blended-up vegetables with airplane noises”—Oh boy, I hadn’t meant to tell him that—“I have soup, or I can make you a sandwich with the sliced turkey. I can put some avocado in it too,” I offered carefully, calmly. “That’s all I have. I was scared to leave you alone for too long. So….” I’d closed and locked the gate to stop people from crossing the property just to be safe—at least from other humans.
His eyes glowed for about a second before going back to normal. To plain beautiful, not unreal. I gulped.
Was that a yes then?
I’d take it. While he was responsive, though I knew I shouldn’t ask him anything, I couldn’t help myself. This was important. “Do you remember? What happened?”
His incredible glare gave me nothing at all.
Moving on then. Okay. There were a couple other things I could ask that weren’t too personal, one of them being the thing that had been sitting on my chest from the moment he’d first passed out. “Is there anything I can do right now? To help?” Please tell me to call someone. Please tell me to drive you somewhere so that somebody else can help you.
My prayers went unanswered when he gruffly said, “For now… nothing.”
For now. I didn’t miss that part. I tried my best to keep my face blank so he wouldn’t see how badly I didn’t want him here. “Are you sure there’s no one you want me to call?” I tried again.
His gaze flicked to the wall behind me again as he said in a crab-ass voice that sounded oddly resigned, “No.”
All righty then. I could do this. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d taken care of someone.
It wouldn’t exactly be hard to look at his face a while longer. I’d probably never get to see bone structure so perfect again in my life. Might as well appreciate it now.
His gaze moved around the kitchen and beyond. I knew what he was looking at. The worn table to his left was covered by an embroidered tablecloth that my grandma had made before I’d been born. It hid the dings and marks on it that had already been there when I’d moved in with just my suitcases and a few boxes. There was an old cat clock with a swishing tail on the wall behind me that I was pretty positive was what he kept focusing on.
The kitchen was small with Formica counters and cabinets that were a shade of tan that had been popular in the ‘80s. I’d never bothered replacing the checkered valance curtains above the one small window in the kitchen or the ones above the back door. Their faded Eiffel Tower pattern had grown on me.
Beyond the kitchen and the breakfast area was what could be called a minimalist living room but was mostly just me not having a lot of stuff. The couch was small and floral patterned. It had already lived a full life before I’d ever sat on it. The same could be said about the rest of the furniture in the house. Most of it was from the old owner, but a couple things I’d picked up at the nearest thrift store that benefited the local SPCA. It was mismatched and in decent shape, for the most part. Back when we’d moved around every semester, I’d slept on a blow-up mattress for years.