Mr. Beast

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Mr. Beast Page 7

by Nicole Elliot


  I watched him come around the corner before his icy stare landed onto the table.

  I was sitting there, trying not to rejoice at the fact that he had come. My heart was slamming in my chest as he slowly rolled up to the breakfast nook. He was staring down at his plate, taking in the food in front of him before his eyes rose to the glass of orange juice.

  Then, he began looking around at all the flowers.

  “Smells good,” he said.

  I smiled as I picked up my fork.

  “I’m glad you think so,” I said.

  “Why are there so many?”

  “Figured I would bring the outside to you.”

  “What makes you think I enjoy the outside?”

  “Besides the fact that you stare at it more than your own reflection?” I asked.

  I looked up at him and I watched his eyes soften. Those icy blue eyes allowed a warmth to pour over them. Like he had remembered something dear to his heart. I watched as he nodded slowly before he picked up his fork, then he took a stab at his vegetables.

  “Still a bit crunchy,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me you like soggy vegetables,” I said.

  “Does anyone?”

  “I’ve met a couple.”

  “Did they happen to wear dentures?” he asked.

  I grinned at his joke as I took a bite of the sweet potatoes. I hummed at their decadence. At the way they melted on the tip of my tongue.

  I felt Hayden’s eyes on me and I swallowed the rest of my sounds. Along with the potatoes.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Very,” I said.

  “I’ll make a note to kiss the cook.”

  I whipped my eyes over to him and saw a shadow of a grin playing upon his features.

  “Technically, I should be the one kissing the cook if I’m the one that likes it so much.”

  “I never said I didn’t like it.”

  I watched him take a large bite of the sweet potatoes and he mocked my moan.

  “Oh, so it’s going to be like that,” I said.

  “Is there any other way to be?”

  “Kind would be a nice start.”

  The playful expression on his face fell before he took a forkful of his salmon.

  “I’m not used to someone taking care of me.”

  “Obviously,” I said.

  “I’m not used to be threatened, either.”

  “Well it got you here, so whatever works.”

  “You could’ve asked nicely.”

  “I’ve been doing that for days,” I said.

  “No, you haven’t been asking. You’ve been assuming I would open up to you in time.”

  “I shouldn’t have to assume you’d open up at all. I’m your nurse. Not your friend.”

  “Yet here we sit, sharing a dinner like friends.”

  “If you want, I can go eat in my room,” I said.

  “Then how will you know I’m eating?” he asked with a grin.

  I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes.

  “You really are a pain in the ass,” I said.

  “And you really are easy on the eyes.”

  I fluttered them open and looked over at him as he took another bite of his vegetables. Was this his idea of a joke? Or was he actually trying to flirt with me?

  No. Hayden was definitely joking.

  He had to be.

  Right?

  “To answer your questions, I have been eating. And bathing.”

  “Not the point,” I said.

  “I figured it would ease your mind to know your tasks aren’t going unfulfilled.”

  “And again, not the point,” I said.

  “What is the point?”

  “The point is I am your nurse. You’re paying me a great deal of money to stay here so I can help you with tasks like those. And you won’t let me. So here we are.”

  “Looming a hospital over my head so I’ll come eat a dinner you laboriously prepared for me. Surrounded by flowers you’re ordering with your own money.”

  I eyed him carefully as I took another bite of food.

  “You’re not paying for them with my money. So the only other source of money you have is yours. Now why would a nurse do something like that?” Hayden asked.

  “To get you to stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I said flatly.

  “Have you ever been trapped in one of these things? Reduced to nothing but a soggy vegetable unable to shower without leaning against a wall for support.”

  “Could be better. You could be showering with me,” I said.

  His eyes flashed with something dark as I reached for my orange juice.

  “And yes, I have been in a wheelchair,” I said. “But I didn’t see it as being trapped.”

  “What happened?”

  “Do you care?”

  “What if I told you I did?”

  “I wouldn’t believe you,” I said.

  “Then give me the chance to prove you wrong.”

  “You first,” I said plainly.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked. “And to let you know, I might just take you up on that showering suggestion you offered earlier. After all, you are my nurse.”

  My eyes connected back with his as I crossed my leg over my knee. I smirked and shook my head as I tried to suppress a giggle. Whatever got him out of that damn room was fine by me. He was joking around and opening up, which was exactly what I’d wanted.

  But I couldn’t deny the heat that slid up my back at the idea of seeing him wet.

  “Why were you in a wheelchair?” Hayden asked.

  “Track and field. Back in high school. I was a pole vaulter.”

  “Wow. Impressive.”

  “I know. It’s fascinating how women can actually do things,” I said.

  “Not what I meant, but I enjoy your sarcasm.”

  “Do you now?”

  “It’s refreshing, yes.”

  I watched him lean back into his wheelchair as he threaded his fingers together. His attention was wholly on me and I found myself growing nervous. I wasn’t expecting something like this. I wasn’t expecting us to actually speak. To talk the way we were talking.

  It was… nice.

  “I was in practice after school one day and I was working on breaking my own record. I moved the bar up half an inch and kept trying all day to get over it. And when I finally did, I was so proud of myself. But in my want to get over the bar, I didn’t take into account that another half inch of bar meant another foot of falling. I overcorrected, missed the pad, and came down wrong on my heels.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Very. Shattered both of them. It ended my track and field days and took months to recover from. Three surgeries, multiple pins and screws. Months of physical therapy. And I still can’t walk in heels or anything like that.”

  “Trust me. With legs like yours, you don’t need them,” he said.

  “I have no idea if that’s a compliment or a completely inappropriate comment.”

  “The look on your face says ‘inappropriate’, but the blush in your cheeks says ‘compliment’.”

  I brought my hands up to my face and felt how red my skin was. I turned my body back towards my food and reached for my orange juice. I had to calm down. I was enjoying this dinner a little too much and that wasn’t the point. I could see Hayden grinning out of the corner of my eye, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

  What was he doing?

  Was he trying to make me uncomfortable so I wouldn’t make him come out again for food?

  Because it wasn’t quite working if that was his plan.

  “Setting matters of your legs aside, however, it means you can understand why I don’t want to come out,” he said.

  “No, it doesn’t. I didn’t allow that wheelchair to stop me. There was a handicapped sports league in my area I used to fill my time after school. It helped me with my anger towards the situation.”

  “So you were angry.”

  “Yes
, but I didn’t let it swallow me,” I said.

  “I’m not letting it swallow me.”

  “Says the man who’d rather lock his door to the only person tolerating him instead of coming out and making decent conversation.”

  “Tolerating? Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Why would I be anything else?” I asked.

  “Because this is not a dinner you cook for someone you tolerate.”

  “Then what kind of dinner did I cook?”

  Hayden leaned forward in his chair and brought his face closer to mine. He continued to scoot forward in his seat as I leaned heavily back into the breakfast nook. His blue eyes were captivating. I could see the storm raging behind them. His body heat was radiating against me and his grin was devious, and there was part of me that wanted to reach out for him. To cup his cheek and bring his pouty lower lip to mine.

  I held my breath as I waited for his words.

  “This is a dinner you cook for someone you enjoy.”

  His voice was lower and his tone was gravelly. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. His eyes lowered to my heaving bosom, no doubt taking in how flushed my skin was. Then he lifted his head before he grabbed his plate and his drink.

  “Where… are you going?” I asked.

  He wheeled away from the table and started for the living room.

  “Hayden?”

  “I’m going to my room, Grace. And I promise I’ll be a good boy and eat.”

  My name.

  It sounded so good falling from his lips.

  Chapter Ten

  Hayden

  The flush of her skin. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I found myself coming out of my room more simply to see if I could pull it from her skin again. Compliments on her outfit and staring at her lips. Raking my eyes down her form as she helped me with my physical therapy. A brush of my hand against her ass accidentally if I wheeled a little too close and my breath hot on her ear if I accidentally stumbled getting up from my chair.

  And every time, that beautiful blush would creep across her cheeks.

  The more time I spent with Grace, the more I wanted to get to know her. I knew a woman like herself would never view me as a man while in that damn chair, but I could settle for her embarrassment until I could treat her the way she deserved. Until I could pin her against the wall and tie her down to my bed.

  Oh, the things I would do to her body.

  She was captivating, but she was also right. I was having a hard time cleaning myself. Some days were better than others, but I could tell when a part of my body wasn’t being reached the way it should. And the idea of Grace washing me down in a tub or standing with me in a shower was striking.

  So, I caved.

  “Grace?”

  I was met with silence and I furrowed my brow.

  “Grace?”

  I turned my chair around and wheeled out of my room.

  “I’m about to take a bath without your help,” I said. “I might fall and break another hip or something.”

  And still, I was met with nothing.

  Where was she?

  I wheeled into the kitchen and looked around, but she wasn’t there. I wheeled all the way down the hallway to the library, figuring I’d find her with her nose in a book like I had a few times already. But still, she wasn’t there. I wheeled back out to the front door to see if she’d left a note. Maybe she had gone somewhere.

  But there wasn’t anything there.

  “Grace?”

  I heard some shuffling around coming from down the hallway and I wheeled as fast as I could. Was she hurt? Was something wrong? I felt this odd sort of panic rush through me as I wheeled myself into her room. She wasn’t in her bed and she wasn’t on the floor, and as I turned my chair around to go get my cell phone I saw her.

  In her bathroom.

  Toweling off quickly in the mirror.

  Her leg was stuck out and the towel was catching the droplets of water rushing down her soft skin. Her thigh flexed with muscle and her well-defined calves were twitching with every stroke she made. She fluffed out the towel and I recognized the sound. The shifting around I had heard was really her trying to dry her own damn towel off.

  And when she shook it, her luxurious breasts bounced with joy.

  “Oh my gosh. Mr. Lowell!”

  I jerked from my trance and averted my gaze.

  “Are you okay?” Grace asked.

  “I’m uh… yes. I was looking for you because I wanted to let you know I was about to shower myself.”

  “Is it that late already? I’m so sorry. Um… give me some-”

  “I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude,” I said. “I’ll be in my room waiting for you.”

  “Of course. Give me five minutes to… um…”

  “Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”

  I chanced a peek of her body and found her blushing, and it tugged at my gut. Her chest was flushed and her cheeks were tinted pink, and it lended a beautiful color to the frame of her body. Grace was really a deliciously attractive woman, and I felt the veins of my groin beginning to throb with life. The towel was wrapped tightly around her and the slip slipped right up her thigh. All the way to her hip bone before the dip in her waist disappeared beneath the shadows of the fabric.

  I cursed that fabric.

  “Five minutes,” Grace said.

  Her voice pulled me from my trance and I began to wheel away.

  “Five minutes,” I said.

  I made my way back to my room and closed the door behind me. I sighed and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to conjure her again. Fuck this wheelchair. Fuck that moment we shared. At any other point in time, I would’ve walked over to her, grabbed fistfuls of her ass, hoisted her onto the bathroom counter, and made her beg for more of me. But I couldn’t do any of that. I couldn’t give her anything a woman like her deserved.

  Wanted.

  Desired.

  I was a pathetic excuse of a man, and I had no right to think of such a strong woman in such a sinful way.

  Not now anyway.

  “Mr. Lowell?”

  A knock came at my door and I sighed.

  “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “On second thought, I’m getting pretty tired,” I said. “Mind if we leave the shower for the morning?”

  There was a beat of silence before I heard her sigh behind the door.

  “Do you need help getting into bed?” she asked.

  “No,” I said as I hoisted myself from my wheelchair. “I’ve got it.”

  “If I hear you fall-”

  “I said I’ve got it, Grace.”

  That statement was angrier than I wanted it to be and I cursed myself. I heard her sigh again before her light feet padded away. I was an idiot. An idiot with a beautiful woman in his home. I fell into bed and wiggled myself underneath the covers, relegating myself to a night of pain. I didn’t want to exert the energy to take my pain medication and I wasn’t willing to call on Grace to get it for me.

  Not after seeing her like that.

  Not after being faced with what I could have had I been paying more attention.

  Not been on my fucking phone.

  Been more aware of my damn surroundings.

  “Fuck,” I said with a grunt.

  I turned over and beat my fist against my pillow before I laid down. It was going to be a long couple of months.

  But if I played my cards right, maybe that could be my present.

  Maybe having her in all the way we both deserved could be my prize for cooperating.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grace

  “I’m not going out.”

  “Mr. Lowell, it isn’t good to be cooped up like this,” I said.

  “I gave you dinner. I gave you a trip to the grocery store. What more do you want?”

  “I want you to go out and see that people aren’t going to judge you the way you think they will.”

  �
��Trust me, they will. They are. I was lucky no one saw me at that store.”

  “Mr. Lowell-”

  “No,” he said.

  It was like pulling teeth from a tiger. I convinced him one time to go to the store with me and he practically disguised himself from head to toe. A baseball cap. Sunglasses. A massive jacket and a blanket over his lap. He drew more attention to himself that way than anything else. For the love of everything, all we needed was milk and some cookies for dessert that night!

  “What if I told you I would pay?”

  “Is that supposed to make this better? The beautiful nurse paying to go out with the gimp?”

  “You really have an odd way of paying compliments, you know that?” I asked. “I’ll be with you the entire time. Come on. I know the trailer for this movie caught your eye on the television a few days ago. Let me take you to see it.”

  “Why is this so important to you?” he asked. “Like I said, in one phone call I can have a copy of the movie sent over and we can watch it here. Why the movie theater?”

  “Because you need to see that you can be comfortable in that chair out there in a world you think is going to judge you for it,” I said.

  “They’re already judging me for it.”

  “They haven’t seen you in it, Hayden. They have no idea there’s anything supposedly to judge!”

  I didn’t mean to say his name like that. I didn’t mean to sound so demanding and angry with him. But when his eyes connected with mine, I saw a flash of something dark. It should have scared me. It should have put me in my place. All it did, however, was make me press on.

  “Let me take you to see this movie,” I said. “And if it goes downhill, then we can stay in this apartment of yours however long you’d like. For the rest of your recuperation, if you want.”

  His eyes squinted, like he was sizing me up. They fluttered down my body and I felt like I was on display. I felt like that often with him. He had a way of penetrating through my outer layers and making me feel as if I was standing naked in front of him. Vulnerable. Destitute. Embarrassed.

  “Please, Mr. Lowell.”

  “Hayden,” he said.

  “Hmm?”

 

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