ahead of my body.”
“Your mind is more than half the battle, so it’s like you’ve been working at it all day. So, go you!”
Kit lifted his arms in a victory wave, like he’d just won a bout in the ring. “I’m awesome.” He grinned and then rolled his eyes at himself. “Okay, let’s do it. What torture awaits me first?”
Neil spent nearly an hour with Kit, slowly stretching out stiff muscles, carefully re-learning what hurt now that there were new bruises and sensitive spots. He was pleased to discover that they wouldn’t have to adapt the exercises too much, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before Kit was back to where he’d been before his fall.
Still, the guy was sweaty and shaking by the time the hour was over. Neil clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Well done. You worked hard today.”
“That really sucked,” Kit admitted. “God. This is all going to be a memory someday, right?” He drank from a water bottle, his head back and throat working.
“It will, I promise. You’re doing a really great job.” Neil passed over the towel that had been sitting on the coffee table. “I don’t mind if you want to go get a shower or something.”
“You’d have to help.” Kit’s voice was utterly neutral, merely stating a fact.
“I can do that.” It wouldn’t be the first patient he’d helped bathe. Of course, most of them weren’t his age, good-looking, single, and gay. “Totally up to you -- and I won’t be insulted either way.”
Kit nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He looked down at himself and made a face. “Personally, I wouldn’t want a guy looking like this to cook me supper. Off to the shower we go -- I have hopes that the hot water will help.” Still, he wasn’t exactly meeting Neil’s gaze, and his cheeks were pink, likely from the workout.
“Have you got a seat in the shower?” He knew Kit didn’t want to totally redo his father’s house when the wheelchair, and his special needs weren’t going to be permanent, but some things made a huge difference and were worth it. Neil thought the shower seat was one of them.
“Yep.” Kit nodded. “I think my dad likes it, too, though he won’t say anything.” He put down the water bottle and unlocked his wheels. “Everything’s in there -- towels and stuff. I just need to rinse off, more than anything else.”
“Your dad usually help you with this?” He took hold of Kit’s wheelchair and started wheeling him down the hall -- he knew Kit could do it himself, but there was no reason for him to have to.
“Yeah. Gets me in, leaves, comes back after I’m done. I don’t need help with the washing, really, but getting over the edge of the tub and into the seat isn’t something I can manage on my own yet.”
“Cool, it’s no problem. I can even scrub your back if you want.” Oh God, had he said that out loud? And had it sounded as dirty as it had in his head?
“Loofah or bare hand?” Kit sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but his voice had a hitch in it that said something else altogether.
Neil swallowed and decided to ignore the question, to pretend he thought it was rhetorical. Kit was his patient and needed him to be there to help him recover, not make passes.
In the bathroom Kit cooperated by peeling off his shirt without comment and setting the water temperature the way he liked it. “So, the fastest way is for me lift myself up on the arms of my chair, you get my pants down past my hips -- or even off. After that, it’s a simple lift to the side, stuff you’ve done a million times.” He still wasn’t looking Neil in the face.
“Sounds simple enough. I’m ready when you are.” Neil used his most professional voice and kept his face impassive -- he didn’t want to embarrass Kit, but he knew Kit would feel so much better for having showered.
Kit took a breath, let it out, and lifted. His arms locked as he held himself above his chair, his legs angled down from the hip, resting on the lip of
“Your mind is more than half the battle, so it’s like you’ve been working at it all day. So, go you!”
Kit lifted his arms in a victory wave, like he’d just won a bout in the ring. “I’m awesome.” He grinned and then rolled his eyes at himself. “Okay, let’s do it. What torture awaits me first?”
Neil spent nearly an hour with Kit, slowly stretching out stiff muscles, carefully re-learning what hurt now that there were new bruises and sensitive spots. He was pleased to discover that they wouldn’t have to adapt the exercises too much, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before Kit was back to where he’d been before his fall.
Still, the guy was sweaty and shaking by the time the hour was over. Neil clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Well done. You worked hard today.”
“That really sucked,” Kit admitted. “God. This is all going to be a memory someday, right?” He drank from a water bottle, his head back and throat working.
“It will, I promise. You’re doing a really great job.” Neil passed over the towel that had been sitting on the coffee table. “I don’t mind if you want to go get a shower or something.”
“You’d have to help.” Kit’s voice was utterly neutral, merely stating a fact.
“I can do that.” It wouldn’t be the first patient he’d helped bathe. Of course, most of them weren’t his age, good-looking, single, and gay. “Totally up to you -- and I won’t be insulted either way.”
Kit nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He looked down at himself and made a face. “Personally, I wouldn’t want a guy looking like this to cook me supper. Off to the shower we go -- I have hopes that the hot water will help.” Still, he wasn’t exactly meeting Neil’s gaze, and his cheeks were pink, likely from the workout.
“Have you got a seat in the shower?” He knew Kit didn’t want to totally redo his father’s house when the wheelchair, and his special needs weren’t going to be permanent, but some things made a huge difference and were worth it. Neil thought the shower seat was one of them.
“Yep.” Kit nodded. “I think my dad likes it, too, though he won’t say anything.” He put down the water bottle and unlocked his wheels. “Everything’s in there -- towels and stuff. I just need to rinse off, more than anything else.”
“Your dad usually help you with this?” He took hold of Kit’s wheelchair and started wheeling him down the hall -- he knew Kit could do it himself, but there was no reason for him to have to.
“Yeah. Gets me in, leaves, comes back after I’m done. I don’t need help with the washing, really, but getting over the edge of the tub and into the seat isn’t something I can manage on my own yet.”
“Cool, it’s no problem. I can even scrub your back if you want.” Oh God, had he said that out loud? And had it sounded as dirty as it had in his head?
“Loofah or bare hand?” Kit sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but his voice had a hitch in it that said something else altogether.
Neil swallowed and decided to ignore the question, to pretend he thought it was rhetorical. Kit was his patient and needed him to be there to help him recover, not make passes.
In the bathroom Kit cooperated by peeling off his shirt without comment and setting the water temperature the way he liked it. “So, the fastest way is for me lift myself up on the arms of my chair, you get my pants down past my hips -- or even off. After that, it’s a simple lift to the side, stuff you’ve done a million times.” He still wasn’t looking Neil in the face.
“Sounds simple enough. I’m ready when you are.” Neil used his most professional voice and kept his face impassive -- he didn’t want to embarrass Kit, but he knew Kit would feel so much better for having showered.
Kit took a breath, let it out, and lifted. His arms locked as he held himself above his chair, his legs angled down from the hip, resting on the lip of
Similar Books
