“You needed it. We both did.” He leaned in to kiss her once more. “Are you or your dad going to mind that I plan to stay here with you until this is over?”

“No. I like having you here, and he doesn’t really care, despite the grief he might give you.”

“I need to go home at some point to get some clothes and make sure the condo association took care of getting the windows fixed.”

“We can arrange that.” She sat up and stretched. “I’m going to grab a shower. Care to join me?”

“I’d love to, but I’m not going to push my luck. I’ll go after you.”

“Wimp.”

“Yep.”

She laughed as she slipped into a robe, and the sound warmed him. He was surprised to realize she had made him feel better, even as the sickening images from the dream lingered. After Sam went into the bathroom, he sat up, gripping his pounding head. The concussion they’d called minor was making a major statement, and whatever they’d used to numb the cut over his eye had worn off, leaving a dull, throbbing ache.

He felt kind of foolish about unloading on Sam, but she hadn’t seemed to mind. Having someone to share the ups and downs with was something he could get used to—as long as that someone was her.

He stood up and groaned when his injured foot protested. Reaching for his jeans, he pulled them on and took a good look around the messy room. Sam had a way of exploding into a space, which was in direct conflict with his need for order. Beginning with the clothes piled on the floor, he went to work on the clutter. By the time she emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, the place was almost livable.

Her eyes all but popped out of her skull. “It’s like you can’t help yourself!”

“Just straightening up. No biggie.”

“I won’t be able to find anything!”

“You couldn’t find anything before.”

“I knew exactly where everything was.”

“No way,” he scoffed. “You’re a slob, Samantha.” He bunched the towel she had wrapped around her into his fist and tugged her close enough to kiss. “A sexy, gorgeous slob, but a slob nonetheless.”

Pouting, she tried to break free of him. “Just because I’m not an anal retentive freakazoid, doesn’t mean I’m a slob.”

“Freakazoid? I’m hurt.” With another hard kiss he released her so she could get dressed. “This is going to be a problem when we live together.”

“Live together?” she sputtered, choking on the words. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“You don’t have to act like the idea is totally repulsive.”

She shoved her long legs into jeans. “We haven’t even been together a week, Nick. I mean…come on.”