Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)(9)

He’s still not paying attention to me, so I allow my gaze to continue down to his flat stomach. Ridges and dips of flesh paint shadows along his skin. Those v-dips? I’ve licked them. Not ashamed to say it. I’ve thought about them more often than I should have, and I’ve caught myself being mesmerized by them a time or two the last forty-eight hours. Specifically, when he’s struggling to get up and he relies strictly on his core. Dayum that core is strong.

Sweatpants stop my journey. Just below the v-dips he’s got fleece on and even though they ride low on his hips, I don’t think they’ll be coming off anytime soon. Before I realize it, my gaze has drifted down to the bulge I can see so prominently pressing against the soft material.

Shaking myself, I pull my gaze back up to his head. The longish blonde hair is up in a manbun, which I used to call ridiculous. Now, it gives him a manlier appearance if that’s even possible. The days in the hospital have leaned him out further, causing his jawbone to form a sharper line and giving him a more dangerous edge.

His eyes open and he rolls his head to the side, blue eyes glowing so dark they’re almost black. “Do I pass inspection?” His tone is both amused and sarcastic – the smirk on his face complete smartass.

I give him my own smirk as I clear my throat and shake off the arousal flowing through my body. “You know I think you’re a very good looking man, Trev. Attraction was never the issue between us.”

He’s quiet as I go about throwing away the grocery bags and cleaning off the counters. I wonder what’s going through his head, he never tells me, and if there’s one thing I want, it’s him to confide in me.

He opens his mouth, but instead of what I want to hear, he asks a question. “What’s for lunch?”

“How hungry are you?”

He runs a hand down his stomach, calling attention to the smooth expanse of skin. “If I’m going to take a pill, I need carbs to help me absorb it. I don’t want to feel fucked up, Blaze. You know I don’t like it.”

If there’s one thing Trevor hates, it’s feeling out of control.

“How about I make us both a baked potato and some grilled chicken to put on top? Then you can take your pain pill and lie down.”

He seems to consider what I’ve asked for a moment, but then a mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Will you lie down with me?”

I’m asking for trouble if I do, and I know it. The problem is, it’s always been hard for me to say no to Trevor – about anything. He rests better with me next to him. This is a fact since he’s been hurt.

Truthfully, since we’ve been home, I miss him. He’s not as accessible as he was in the hospital. There he was vulnerable, willing to let himself accept help. Here he’s not so easy to read. He sure as hell doesn’t accept or ask for help the way he did in Birmingham and if I’m honest…I’m tired.

“I’ll lie down with you, but I want you to sleep.”

He crosses his heart with his finger. “Promise babe, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Grabbing some potatoes, I poke holes in them and put them in the microwave to cook. While that’s heating, I grab the leftover chicken we had last night, and get it ready to nuke. This is not fancy, but Trevor seems to appreciate anything I do for him. In those aspects, he’s a good patient. Telling me his pain level truthfully and taking care of himself? He fucking sucks at that.

“How’s your leg?” I wash my hands, going to stand beside him.

“It hurts today,” he admits grimacing slightly as he moves it to try and get more comfortable.

“Trev, you can’t overdo it.” I wish they’d put him in a brace instead of a plaster cast, but with the hardware he received it was necessary to make sure his leg heals correctly. Part of that is going to be Trevor allowing his body time to heal itself. I walk over to him, running my hands down his face, kissing his forehead. “You aren’t Superman, you’ve got to take it easy.”

He leans into my caress, allowing himself a few moments of quiet. “You’re fuckin’ right I’m not Superman,” he mumbles. “If anything, I’m Batman, he’s way more badass.”

I giggle as I make my way over to the microwave, which has beeped. Within minutes, I have our food and drinks ready, setting them on the table, so we both have access.

“You take one this afternoon and if it works, you take one tonight,” I say as I hand Trevor a white pill. “You have to rest.”

“You’ll be with me?”

Only I know the depth of that question, what it costs him to ask it and how much it means that he did. Reaching over, I grab his hand.

“I’ll be with you no matter what you need.”





CHAPTER FIVE




Tank


I fucking hate painkillers. I hate the way they make me feel like I’m flying, the dry mouth I get, the weird ass dreams I have. I hate it all, but I’ve also learned my body needs to rest. And fuck, I’m tired. More than anything, I’m tired – exhausted even.

“Want to take the sweatpants off?” Blaze asks as she follows me into the bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m gonna get hot. I do every time I take these damn things. They make me sweat like a meth addict.”

We’ve cut the legs off this pair to make them into shorts, but it still takes both of us working to get them down my legs, past my cast, and off my feet. I grab onto the waistline of the boxers I wear to keep them from going with them. Laying down, I help her as best I can by adjusting my leg so that it’s propped up.