“You were doing your best the entire time I wrapped it to not wince.” He doesn’t miss his chance to give me his glare of disapproval. I roll my eyes in response. “If it were broken, you most likely would’ve lost all feeling. The numbness outweighing anything else.”
He picks up my foot and moves it how he wants. This time I do flinch, and he shoots me a told-you-so look before focusing back down.
“This spot is going to be the worst,” he notes. Cool fingers grazing the black-and-blue spot that’s now covered. “Give it a couple of days though. No added pressure.”
His hand is still on my foot as I go to move it, uncaring if it hurts. He’s being far too nice and it’s unsettling. The touch of his skin on my own isn’t helping either.
Cole’s hold is firm, placing it back on the pillow. “You need to keep it elevated,” he warns.
I put a hand over my eyes, leaning back. It’s all far too… intimate.
The bed dips, and I hear a paper bag opening but I don’t move my arm until the smell of fried food wafts in my nostrils. My stomach hums, gurgling its approval.
He balks between a mouthful of his burger and fries, nodding down at mine. He’d taken the extra effort to unwrap it and set it beside me.
Cole pretends to busy himself with the TV remote, but I catch the way his lip quirks when I lift the bun, checking. No onion, extra pickles.
I don’t know how he knows this, but he does.
I bite into the melty cheese and gooey deliciousness, pretending I’m indifferent. I’m not, though, that one extra gesture more impactful than him intentionally choosing to pick up my favorite meal.
We eat in silence. I thought by him turning on the TV he’d made himself too comfortable. Turns out that’s just the start.
Helping himself after we’re done, he throws away our trash in the bathroom before going to my closet. Coming back out with several blankets. Neatly unfolding them before he lays them down as a makeshift bed on the floor.
I could choke on my own spit if I had any left.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
Kissing my temple as his answer, he reaches over me and grabs for the pillow on the far side of my bed.
“You can’t stay here,” I urge, watching as he fluffs it before settling in on the floor. “What about my jeep?”
“Leave it,” he notes. Flicking through show choices again.
“How will I get to school? Work?”
“I’ll take you.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?” Deciding, he picks out something I haven’t started yet, but I’ve been wanting to. How does he do that?
Picking this showandthe burger. It can’t be a coincidence. He’s a mind reader, that’s the only explanation I have.
I try a new tactic. “Abram won’t approve.”
This has him sitting up. We both know Abram would never take the time. I can count the number of times he’s been to this roomandside of the house.
Also, Cole basically grew up here, so if, and that’s a hardif,Abram does care to notice, he’s likely to assume he’s staying with Finn.
I don’t care! I’m pulling at strings hoping to find dynamite by this point. He can’t stay, he’s already done too much.
Cole tilts his head. “Are you blushing?”
More heat rises to my face. He knows I am, but he wouldn’t be Iceman if he missed an opportunity to point it out.
I flick at a nonexistent piece of lent on my comforter. My face scorches in mortification. When have I started getting embarrassed around Cole Kellet?