“Anything but that,” I teased, and was rewarded with a snort. I squirted some shampoo onto my hand and placed the bottle onto the floor. I lathered it up between my hands and knelt beside him. Gently, I rubbed it through his hair, and West let out a contented sigh. Finally, he relaxed his tense form.

Something I said had gotten through. Happiness did not describe my feelings. He was letting me help. Letting me be here for him.

After rinsing the conditioner from his hair, I could not resist leaning forward and pressing my lips to the back of his neck.

“What was that for?” he asked softly.

“Because I had to.”

“You had to?”

“Da.”

He shook his head. “How can you look at me? Look at my back? Be close to it?”

I threaded my fingers through the back of his hair and gently tugged it to the side to have his eyes. I knew mine were hard from not liking his words. “I can look, I can see, because I do not lie when I say your wounds show me how strong you are. Your wounds are a part of you, and I like you, West.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You may think that, but it does not change how I feel.” Leaning in, I kept his gaze and touched my lips to his jaw. His breath shook as he released it. “It is time to get out now.”

“Okay,” he uttered.

Slowly, I helped West stand. He kept the cloth in front of him, but it dropped when he stood.

A deep blush hit his cheeks when his hands landed on my chest, and he gazed up at me.

I smirked. “I won’t look… much.”

“Adrik,” he clipped.

A laugh escaped me. “If you lean against the shower wall with your hands, I will retrieve the towel and boxers.” He did, and I quickly slipped out of the shower and used a spare towel to dry off swiftly. I took the other back into the shower. I swallowed thickly as I allowed my gaze to run below his back. His ass was round and perfect.

“Do you wax?” I asked, resting the towel over his shoulders.

“Adrik!” he snapped.

Chuckling, I patted what I could dry without being inappropriate and then handed him the towel to finish the rest. Once done, I crouched and held out the boxers for him to step into. By the time we made it back to his bedroom, where there were clean sheets applied to the bed, West was breathing heavier.

“Do you need pain medication?” I asked, helping him to sit on the side of his bed.

I worried when he did not reply for a few moments. Finally, he shook his head and looked up at me. “Maybe soon, but… could you help me out to the living room to sit at the table for a while?”

Hope resurfaced inside me. “Of course.”

Chapter Sixteen

West