“I refused a hospital gown.”
Tyce gestured to the sterile, unattractive hospital room. There was less chance of them getting carried away here than there was at her apartment.
“Let’s just get this done.”
Pulling out her clothes from the bag, Tyce stopped to look at her. Her cheekbones were slightly red. They’d discussed this, discussed making love, why was she now embarrassed? Girls could be so weird about their bodies and nudity. “Honey, I have kissed, tasted and explored every inch of you. What’s the problem with me seeing you in your bra and panties?”
Sage’s shoulders lifted up to hover around her ears. “That was sex. This is...I don’t know how to explain it...this is different.”
It was more intimate, Tyce realized. And intimacy scared Sage, as it did him. She liked being in control of what she shared with him and how much of herself she gave him and she was suddenly thrust into a situation where she had to allow him control. Tyce sympathized. He didn’t like losing control either. He dropped a hand onto her shoulder and squeezed before holding up a pair of soft, well-worn yoga pants.
“So, those clothes or these?” he asked in his most businesslike voice.
Sage nodded at her pants. “Those, please.” She started to fiddle with the band of her scrub pants with her left hand, muttering soft curses. “God, it even hurts to stand.”
Tyce dropped to his haunches, whipped her pants down and off, trying to ignore those long, gorgeous legs that had wrapped around his hips, back and neck many times in the past. Ignoring the wave of memories, he slid the yoga pants over her lifted foot and then the other. Just get it done, Latimore. He pulled the stretchy fabric up her legs, standing up to pull the material over her butt. He glanced down and noticed the football-size bruise starting to form on her lower back. “Holy hell, Sage, how hard did you fall?”
“What?”
“You have a hell of a bruise on your butt. That’s why sitting hurts,” Tyce said, reaching for her socks. He quickly put her sneakers on her feet and tied the laces. Standing, he lifted the top half of her scrubs up her torso and gently pulled the shirt over her arm, trying to keep his eyes off her round, firm breasts half covered by a dusky-pink lacy bra that matched the color of her thong. God give him strength! And please, God, make her injuries heal fast; he couldn’t wait to have her under him again... No, wait, that wasn’t on the agenda; that wasn’t part of the plan. The mission was to find a new way of dealing with each other and not to reexplore the missionary position.
Sex, moron, he chided himself, will only add a truckload of complicated to an already convoluted situation. Did you not say that ten minutes ago?
“Are you okay?” Sage asked him as he dropped a long-sleeved T-shirt over her head.
“Not even close,” Tyce muttered under his breath. He picked up her hoodie, threaded her injured arm through the sleeve and frowned at the blank canvas of her plaster cast. “I’m going to have to make that more gangsta.”
“Huh?”
Tyce tapped her cast. “It’s white and boring. We’ll graffiti it up.”
The corners of her mouth tipped up. “It’ll be the most expensive cast in the history of the world. You’d better sign it so that when it’s removed someone can sell it on the net and make a fortune.”
Tyce finished dressing Sage, helped her with her sling and picked up the spare coat he’d brought with him. “Right, let’s bust you out of here.”
Sage took one step, yelped, took another and groaned. Not bothering to ask her, he picked her up and held her against his chest, his temple against her head. “Better?”
“Much,” Sage murmured as her good arm encircled his neck. “Though they are going to insist on a wheelchair, hospital policy.”
“They can insist until the air turns blue, I’m not letting you go,” Tyce told her, walking in the hallway.
I’m not letting you go.
Why did that statement resonate with him? Tyce couldn’t understand why that particular order of words made deep, fundamental sense. This was the problem with being around Sage, he thought, and the reason why he’d backed away all those years ago. With her, strange thoughts and concepts popped into his head.