Chapter 4

Paige

A chuckle startles me awake. “Not to be rude or anything, but would you mind helping me to your bed before you pass out? That’s where I’m sleeping, right? Also, I need help getting out of these clothes.”

Still groggy from my nap, I blink life into my eyes.

Dallas is sitting in his wheelchair with a shit-eating grin and his thick, muscular arms folded over his shirt. It's unfair that even a goddamn car accident can’t make him look unattractive. If anything, the bruises on his face make him look dangerous.

“Good morning, miss assistant,” he teases even though it's probably late as heck. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

I smile at the playful glint in his eyes. "Very funny, Dallas," I say, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "And yes, I will help you to the bed, but first, let me get you something to drink."

"Thoughtful," he says. "Seeing it hurts to stretch and fill a glass myself."

"Gosh, how long was I out?" I ask, hoping he isn't too thirsty. It's important to stay hydrated, especially after an injury. I think?

"For two hours, give or take?"

I gasp from the kitchen. I have an open-floor apartment. The bedroom and bathroom are the only rooms with doors. "That long? Why didn't you wake me?"

He shrugs. "You seemed like you needed a nap. Oh, and you snore, by the way."

I snort. "Do not."

"Do too."

I head over to the mini fridge and grab a bottle of water. After uncapping it, I hold it up to Dallas's lips, watching as he takes slow sips. The bruises on his face make my heart ache, but I try not to show it.

Instead, I focus on his full lips, but when his eyes flicker to mine, I look away. I don't think he caught me checking him out. At least, I hope he didn't.

After Dallas has finished his water, I help him out of his wheelchair and onto the bed, carefully removing his shirt while my heart pounds fast against my ribcage.

Despite his skin being blue and bruised, his muscles are beautifully sculpted, and my eyes stay glued on his abs for a little too long.

A mischievous grin slides onto his face, and I realize he has finally caught me in the act of checking him out. But this was bound to happen! His body is a work of art, and I'm only human—I would have to be dead not to look!

"See anything you like?" Dallas asks in a sultry tone.

"Don't flatter yourself," I quip, but I don't sound confident even in my own ears, and Dallas chuckles.

"No harm in looking since you mean nothing by it. We are just besties and nothing else, right? Not like you would suddenly grow interested in me or something."

The heat of my embarrassment colors my cheeks, and his smug smile widens into something almost predatory. He knows exactly what I'm thinking—that he is hot—and it sends a thrill through my core. I can barely focus on my task of removing his t-shirt, but once I'm done, I'm faced with a bigger problem—his pants and his protruding erection.

"Sorry," he doesn't sound sorry. "I must admit this whole experience of having you undress me is turning me on. It's like I have a private nurse, and I'm still just a man. I mean nothing by it. Please just ignore it."

Ignore it?! How??? He is huge! How could I have forgotten about that detail?!

I swallow back my drool and grip the hems of his jeans and begin to tug them down. "Don’t worry. It happens.” Does it, though?!

“Thank you, Paige,” Dallas sounds like he means it. “You’re a real friend.”

I smile and meet his blue eyes. It's the perfect distraction, so I don’t look down at his Calvin Klein boxers. “No problem.”

His eyes crinkle by the corners. "Also, after you're done undressing me, would you mind helping me to the bathroom?" 

I stare at him, and his cheeks turn a bright red color. I'm not used to seeing Dallas blushing. It's actually rather endearing. "Umm…you don’t have to…or actually…you do. Fuck, this is so embarrassing...I feel like less of a man for needing your help, but...I really got to pee."

My eyes widen, and I feel like an idiot because I've never been in a similar situation. I don't know what to do.

"You're not messing with me, are you?"

"What? No...but it's okay," he looks away as if ashamed. "You don't have to help me if you don't want to. I will just figure out a way to go to the bathroom by myself."

And now I feel like a terrible caretaker. Dallas is badly injured, and there is no chance in hell he will make it to the bathroom without hurting himself.

"No! No! I will help you," I get closer to the bed. "If you give me your hand, I can help pull you up. You are allowed to use your crutches, right?"

"Yes, but my arms tire easily."

"I just need you to lean your weight on them since you're more than twice my size."

His lips twitch. "Good point. You really are small."

I glare at him.

I hate it when people point out that I'm small or call me short. Like, hello, don't they think I haven't already noticed? My irritation grows when Dallas gives me an innocent smile. Talk about Déjà vu. He always used to tease me like this in the past and then try to look like an angel.

"Umm...am I crazy to think you might be mad at me?"

I hold my breath and have to use every ounce of strength in my body to help him sit up. Once he is sitting on the bed and towering over me, I exhale.

"I don't appreciate being called small."

"Why not?" Dallas sounds shocked. "I think it's cute."

I pout. “I don’t think being called cute is a compliment. I’m a woman—I would like to be called sexy.”

Dallas chuckles. “No offense, but you’re not sexy, Paige,” my eyes narrow, but Dallas holds up a hand, grinning. “Hear me out. Please. I’m not trying to be rude. I’m actually trying to compliment you because instead of sexy, you’re beautiful. You might not wear lots of makeup or any revealing clothing, but that’s okay. You have a natural glow around you. And…I like that. You’re not trying to be someone else.”

My heart skips a beat, but instead of feeling happy, I grow bitter. During our last together, all Dallas ever talked about was football. He never complimented me, so it feels like a direct kick to my chest to hear him be nice to me now when he doesn’t even have any memories of me. It fucking hurts. 

I let out some steam through my nostrils, and then I grab his crutches, bringing them to him. “Come on, let’s get you into the bathroom.”

“I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing."

"It's fine."

He keeps talking as we make our way to the bathroom, oblivious to how heavy he is. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I just wanted to let you know that I see you as a beautiful woman.”

I'm panting now, but we are finally standing by the toilet, and I look at Dallas. "I'm not...mad at you...anyway, should we make you sit down?"

"Uhh...aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"You sort of need...to...uh...pull down my boxers."

For a second, all I do is just freeze. You could hear a pin drop, but soon, I mechanically peer down at Dallas's boxers. He is eerily quiet, and I swallow.

You can do this, I tell myself inwardly, and then, I do the only thing I can do. I take a deep breath and slowly begin to pull down his boxers. Dallas's erection springs free, and I feel my cheeks heat up. It's not the first time I've seen his cock, but I had forgotten just how well-endowed he is.

"That thing is larger than my dildo."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

I blink. "Wait, what?"

Dallas chuckles, and I immediately realize my mistake and nearly die of embarrassment. I can't believe I said that out loud. He must think I’m insane!

My whole face, no, my entire body is burning as I help him sit down on the toilet. "Sorry...I just...sorry."

Dallas peers up at me. "Happens..."

We share a moment of just looking at each other before I clear my throat.

"Ehm...I should probably leave you to it."

"Probably."

I leave Dallas alone in the bathroom and only return to help him up around twenty minutes later. I have this suspicion he was done much earlier but felt embarrassed to call for me.

Either way, I help him back to my bed, blushing when I accidentally cop a feel of his butt as I help him lie down. Dallas yelps in surprise, and I feel like facepalming myself when I don't immediately let go of his round glutes.

What is the matter with me?

I withdraw my hands from his gorgeous body and pull a blanket over him as if to tell my lady parts to stop lusting after my ex-boyfriend. It's getting ridiculous.

"So, I will sleep on the couch," I say. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

Dallas nods, and I walk toward the door. Once I'm about to turn off the light, I turn around to steal a glance, but Dallas's eyes aren't closed. He is looking at me with a gentle smile as if he somehow knew I would look back at him.

"Goodnight, Paige."

My heart flutters. "Goodnight, Dallas."

I leave my bedroom, and my heart is pounding so hard that I can hear my own skyrocketing pulse. I've spent less than a day with Dallas, and I'm already in trouble.

Just how am I supposed to resist him?