Page 51 of Center of Gravity

I went down hard and fast, knocking my back on the armrest or leg or…something. Something that sent jagged scorches of pain tearing across my back. I landed in a sprawl, managing to catch myself on an elbow, which was definitely past its expiration date for hard landings.

Alex was over me in an instant, hovering. “Jesus, dude, are you okay?”

I lay there panting and sweating, waiting for my motor skills to catch up with what had happened so I could get back to my feet. My back was killing me.

Alex extended his hand to help me up and I flopped my free hand into it. An embarrassing comedy of errors happened next. At the force of his yank, my back screamed and I let go, flailing and catching onto his shirt to soften the blow as I fell back yet again. Alex landed on his knees and caught himself on his palms on either side of me, half of his chest pressed to mine as he knocked the wind out of me in a groan. He was wild-eyed for a second, disoriented as I was, heart hammering against me. And so close. If I just leaned—

His lips parted. He started to speak, and I did. I leaned.

16

Alex

My knees hurt and I was acutely aware of the places where my body was smushed up against Rob’s. I was straddling his left leg and I could practically see the beads of sweat being born along his hairline as we both tried to catch our breath. And no matter what I’d told myself last night, being this close to him again was another reminder that I still fucking wanted him.

He groaned and then he was rising up, closing the inches between us.

“Alex…I can’t…” he started, and absurdly my mind filled inresist.

The next second I was immobilized with the realization that he was going to do it. He was going to kiss me. My lips parted in anticipation because of course I was going to kiss him back.

Instead, his face twisted in pain and he dropped back with another groan, “…fucking move,” he finished shakily. “I think I broke my fucking back.”

I eased back onto my heels. I saw the way he’d fallen, and it wasn’t pretty, but I didn’t think he’d broken his back. Granted, I wasn’t exactly qualified to judge orthopedic issues, but he’d been able to lean toward me. After rolling him gingerly off to one side, I shoved furniture away, clearing space around him. “Let’s just rest a second and then we’ll see if you can get up.”

His chin moved in a fraction of a nod and he closed his eyes as I sprawled beside him. Winslow hovered in the doorway, shifting from side to side until I patted the floor to urge him closer. “He’ll be fine, buddy,” I assured him as he snuffled at Rob’s side. His fingers stretched out to run over Winslow’s fur.

“I should’ve gotten rid of that goddamn chair in the first place,” he muttered, turning his head sideways to look at me. “It’s your fault.”

I scoffed. “That chair might have saved you from a concussion. You should be thanking me.”

“At the cost of my back.”

“Your back’s not broken, but we should go get you checked out.”

He muttered another curse as I rose to my knees. “Let’s start with trying to stand first. We’ll go easy.”

He rolled onto his side with a grimace and then, with my arms beneath his shoulders, we levered him into a sitting position, resting a few beats before we tackled getting him upright and on his feet. He took a few shuffling steps and I darted forward as his face paled. I slid his arm around my shoulder and reached for the keys. “I’m driving.”

I bore the brunt of his weight and irritated curses as I eased him into his car and carefully adjusted the seat to lie back. I drove to the hospital so far below the speed limit that we got honked at, and he still groaned at every pothole.

* * *

His back wasn’t broken,but it was strained. The ER doctor examined him, took some X-rays, then wrote him some prescriptions for pain meds and muscle relaxers, instructing him to stay in bed for the rest of the day and, as needed, the next. He’d also sprained his ankle, which neither of us had even noticed, so he got an air cast for that. Funnily enough, that was the thing he bitched about the most as I gathered up his clothes and handed them over to him so I could take him home after being discharged.

We’d gotten him standing up at the end of the bed, muscle relaxers and pain meds loosening him up. He scowled at the black air cast on his ankle as I tried to maneuver his boxers over the bulky plastic boot.

“This is…cumbersome,” he said. What he meant was a pain in the ass.

“Better than a real cast or one of those scooters people wheel around on.” His thighs were strong and muscular under my hands as I tugged the boxers over them, pausing to look up at him only to find his eyes already on me. I wanted to make a joke about our positioning, but the expression on his face melted the words away.

“I’m not incompetent,” he said, pushing my hands from the waistband of the boxers and tugging them the rest of the way up with a wince. Putting on his shorts went the same way.

“You’re injured and you’re grumpy is what you are and I’m just trying to help. So chew on that.”

“I don’t want to chew on anything right now except maybe a pillow case.” But his expression softened and we finished getting him dressed in silence, no more mouthiness from him when I helped slip his T-shirt on, or smoothed the hem of it across his abdomen.

We madethe drive back to Rob’s house at the same slow and steady clip. He groaned at every pothole again, though it was quieter and he did seem exhausted, not even bothering to complain when I slung his arm around my shoulder, pulled him from the car, bearing most of his weight, and helped him up the walk and into the house.