Part 41 (2/2)
”Ben, put me down, please,” I murmur into his neck.
He does.
”I'm fine.” I fake a smile and go to my room, third door to the left.
”I'm sorry if I embarra.s.sed you,” Ben says when we're alone.
”You didn't embarra.s.s me. I embarra.s.s myself.” I carefully sit at the edge of the top of my bed where I keep all my lotions for my leg.
I take off my Converse hi-tops, cringe at the pain in my lower back, and begin rolling up my leggings in front of Ben...again. Only now, he's see my leg without the contraption. I stop for a moment and look at him.
”Would you like me to leave?”
I think about this for a second.
”I never did get to take a p.i.s.s yet. How 'bout I do that...I'll be back.”
He turns to leave. ”Ben.”
”Yeah?”
”There's a bathroom right here.” I point to the door in front of me. ”When you come out, I don't mind you seeing.”
”Really?”
”Really.”
”Be right back.”
While he's in the bathroom, I unlatch my leg, take it out of the socket, pull off my sock, and ma.s.sage it. It feels so good out in the open right now. I slide back against the headboard and pick up the tube of lotion. Then I grimace at the pain in my bottom from sitting this way.
Ben walks out as I'm about to squeeze the cream into my hand.
I hesitate just a second, but he sits down in front of me and holds out his hand. ”May I?”
I look at him and he's staring into my eyes. I hand him the tube without saying another word.
He squeezes the lotion into his hands and rubs them together. I watch as he continues looking at my face when his fingers first make contact with my skin. It's an odd sensation - his hand on my limb. The way he gently ma.s.sages the cream into my skin almost feels sensual and not at all like the unpleasant sensation when I dutifully rub it on every night, trying my darndest not to look at the thing.
”Am I hurting you?” he asks quietly, looking up from my leg.
”No,” I say, looking into his eyes.
”Is it feeling any better?”
I nod, still gazing into his brown eyes. ”Much.”
The cream is all rubbed in when he starts to ma.s.sage my thigh. ”You took some fall down there. Are you hurting from that?”
I know I'm turning red, because my cheeks feel warm and I'm suppressing a smile, but I tell him anyway. ”My b.u.t.t hurts quite a bit.”
His lopsided grin and raised brow make my insides tingle. ”I'll be happy to rub lotion there too.”
I can't believe myself, but I want to say, ”Please.” Instead, I tell him, ”I'll be fine.”
”Seriously though, is there ice in the freezer? You should probably ice it.”
I nod. ”Yeah. You're right.”
He rubs my limb again, then stands. ”I'll be right back.”
”No. Ben. It can wait.”
”I'll be right back,” he insists before walking out my bedroom door.
Resting back against the headboard, I close my eyes and think about Ben. I can't believe I've fallen so hard for him. Even more so, I can't believe how comfortable I feel with him. He saw my...thing...and he didn't cringe. Didn't even blink twice. And he wasn't too grossed out to touch it. Oh my G.o.d, at this moment, I don't think I could feel any happier.
Ben walks in with two mugs of coffee in his hands and an ice pack under his armpit. ”Figured you'd want a cup,” he says, sitting the mugs down on my nightstand. ”Scooch up so I can put the ice on your back.”
”Actually, I should probably go to the bathroom myself first.”
He takes my hand and helps me stand. ”You okay on your own, or does your back hurt too much?”
I like how he made it about my back and not that at the moment I'm one-legged. I reach for my crutches next to the nightstand - I still haven't perfected the hopping on one leg thing. Spinning yes. Hopping no. ”I got these. I'm good.”
He nods. ”I'll be waiting.”
After I pee, I finally brush my teeth and run a brush through my hair. Then I wash my face quickly, because it feels so sc.u.mmy. But when I get a look at myself in the mirror, I see my scar. Do I cover it back up, or trust that Ben won't go running because he's seen too much of the real me today? It takes me a moment to think about it, but I decide that Ben meant what he'd said - I don't have to hide myself from him.
Slowly, I open the door. My chest is pounding a little harder, a little faster, and my stomach turns a bit. But one crutched step at a time, I walk out into my room.
The first thing I notice is Ben's eyes. They're smiling. ”My G.o.d, Rose. You're beautiful.”
Naturally, my hand flies to my cheek.
”Don't,” he stands. ”Don't cover it.” He again removes my hand from my face. ”I forgot you had freckles.” He cups his right hand around my waist.
Freckles. All this worrying about my scar, I'd forgotten to worry about my freckles. Not that I'd ever cared before, but since I started covering my scar and needed to wear foundation, I forgot that all this time my freckles were hidden too.
”I love them. They suit you.” He takes the crutches and leans them against the nightstand, all the while keeping his hold on my waist. ”Now you really look like half-pint,” he says, lifting me up and laying me on the bed.
”That's not a compliment,” I joke.
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