“Hayden! Where are you!?”
I couldn’t breathe in deeply enough to call for her. And part of me didn’t want to. I’d been in physical therapy with my hip for all of three damn months, and it was time I was upright again. It was time I got back to my work. To my world. To making money and building hotels and running shit the way it needed to be run. I was putting off investor meetings and flooding my COO, Mike, with way too much shit.
And the worst part was he was doing a really good job. With every passing day he was in the driver’s seat, it made me look worse.
I had to get back to my company and show them why I fucking ran the damn place.
“Oh my gosh. Hayden. Come here.”
I was groaning and holding my head, trying to abate my embarrassment. I could hear that tone in her voice. That small tone women took with stubborn toddlers. I hated that fucking tone. I hated that she saw me as beneath her. As some insolent child she had to take care of instead of a man who could take care of her. Grace squatted down onto the floor, trying to be careful in her movements, but once she reached for me something snapped.
I smacked her hand out of the way to try and get her to leave.
“Hayden, what in the world?”
“Get the hell away from me,” I said.
“We have to get you off this floor. I have to get your pants off and-”
“I said… get the hell away from me, Grace.”
I was angry. Fed up. Embarrassed. Grace deserved better than this from me, and I knew I could give it to her. I knew I was capable of giving it to her. I just had to start fucking walking again. Why wasn’t any of this shit working? Grace praised me day in and day out like I was making massive strides, but I couldn’t even make a damn sandwich on my own!
I was pathetic, and she didn’t need to be seeing any of it.
“Hayden, we have to get you off the floor. I have to take a look at you,” she said.
“Leave me here,” I said.
“That isn’t an option. I’m your nurse, and-”
“Well, you’re a shitty one.”
“What?” she asked.
I felt my anger bubbling out of control. I felt my veins bulging from my body. Every misstep. Every surgery. Every day I was absent from the office and every day someone kept me out of the loop with something came boiling over. I was being forgotten. Replaced. People were giving up on me. On this recuperation. There was talk of my not returning at all. Talk of me selling off my controlling shares and living the rest of my life in seclusion.
But that wasn’t fucking happening.
I was going back to work tomorrow.
“Who the hell takes a shower in the middle of the damn day? You’re supposed to be watching me,” I said.
“And you’re supposed to be following orders to the tee. Remember what the surgeon said? You know that after your physical therapy you have to stay in your wheelchair. Your body is spent! What were you doing upright in the kitchen?”
“I was hungry.”
“Then you come get me,” Grace said.
“You were showering. Like a maniac at four in the afternoon.”
“Then you still come get me,” she said. “Now are we done with this pity party? Because we still need to get you off the floor.”
I felt her reach for me again but my eyes snapped open. I tried to control the anger rising within my body, but I couldn’t. Grace grabbed tightly into my wrist to try and help me off the floor, but I wasn’t having it. I was moving on my own time, with my own strength, and with my own movements. I fought against her wishes, relegating myself to the damn floor instead of allowing this beautiful woman to help me once again.
But instead of allowing her to help, I snapped again. I yanked my wrist from her grasp and she came tumbling down to me.
Her naked body, wrapped in a robe and dripping with water.
And her knee slammed right into my shoulder.
The shoulder that had just healed only a few weeks ago.
“What the fu-? Get the hell out of here!” I exclaimed.
She scrambled off me as quickly as she could before she turned around and looked down at me.
Down.
People were always fucking looking down at me now.
“Get out,” I said.
“Hayden, stop fighting me. You can’t stay on the floor forever.”
“You’re fired,” I said.
Grace paused and I felt panic rising in my veins. This was the only way. The only way to get her to go on about her life. If I was going to have any chance at a relationship with her once I was fully healed and back to being the man I knew she needed, I had to get rid of her. The more she saw me like this— the more she helped— the more of a burden I became. She was stunting her life with this. Attaching herself to a crippled man who relied too heavily on her.
That wasn’t the kind of man I was.
And it wasn’t the kind of man Grace deserved.
“What?” she asked.
“You heard me. You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me. You need help.”
“What I need is a competent nurse to get me up and around my own fucking house. And you clearly aren’t capable of that.”
“Aren’t capable of it?” she asked.
I rolled over and perched on my knees and grimaced. Just putting pressure on my knee made my hip hurt. But I didn’t want to show that to her. It only gave her grounds to interfere again like she’d tried to the first time. Threatening to send me back to the hospital and shit.
I was done relying on people.
It was time they started relying on me again.
“You can’t do that. Please let me-”
“For the love of all thing Holy, stop touching me!” I roared.
I smacked her hand away so hard the crack shocked me. I heard Grace sniffle and guilt immediately pooled in my chest. I looked up and saw her cradling her hand against her chest and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Shook my head. Cursed myself.
I’d hurt her.
Fuck. I wasn’t worthy of her at all.
Grace took a couple of steps back from me and I reached up for the edge of the counter. I physically hoisted myself into the air and stood on my own two feet, despite the incredible amount of pain I was in. I drew in deep breaths as sweat poured down my back. My knee was trembling and my arms were sore and everything around me felt like it was fucking crumbling.
This surgery was supposed to fix me.
Not make me worse.
“I’m ready for part-time help,” I said breathlessly. “And I don’t think you’re capable of it.”
Grace sniffled again and it broke my heart.
“You’ve done enough. Go pack your things.”
“Who’s going to take care of you?” she asked.
Her voice sounded to dejected and I resisted the urge to open my arms to her. I looked over at her, swallowing my tears as my eyes gazed upon hers. Those beautiful eyes, filled with so much pain and dejection. I could see how red her hand was and it made me angrier. I didn’t even have a productive outlet for my fucking emotions.
I was a wreck, and she really didn’t need to see that.
“I’ll find someone. There’s plenty of people willing to work part-time,” I said. “Now go pack your things.”
“Hayden, please-”
“I said, now!”
My voice echoed off the corners of the kitchen as Grace scuttled past me. Her breaths were shallow and tears were running down her cheeks. I leaned over until my forehead was sitting against the kitchen counter, my hands threaded behind the back of my neck. I heard her bedroom door slam shut and it shook something inside of me.
Brought something to light that I’d been suppressing for so long.
I cared about Grace. More than I should’ve. I wanted what was best for her, and I wasn’t it. I couldn’t accept her help any longer because every time she put her hands on me I couldn’t control the throbbing of my groin. I couldn’t
have her helping me dress any longer because every time I felt her fingertips on my skin it set me on fire. I couldn’t eat dinners with her any longer and gaze into her night-strewn eyes because I enjoyed a little too much how the stars twinkled in her beautiful stare.
She needed to get out. To go find a guy who was worth her time.
And if I could repair things between us once I was healed, then I would.
I somehow managed to prop myself up between the counter and the fridge so I could maneuver myself back into the living room. I’d made it all the way into the damn kitchen from the windows before my leg collapsed from underneath me. No warning. No numbness. No tingling. It just refused to work as I was opening up the refrigerator. I stumbled back into my wheelchair and leaned back, sighing as my eyes closed. I was in so much pain. My vision was tunneling and I felt my head beginning to throb. I used my arms to wheel myself back to my room, then I made my way into the bathroom to find my stuff.
But I stopped when I heard it.
The sounds were faint, but they were there. The light sobs of a distraught woman. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound. I allowed myself to memorize it. Grace was sitting on her bed in her room, crying as she packed up her things. Her sniffles came wafting through the walls and her stifled sobs were muffled and full of pain. She drew in shaking breaths and tried not to cough, and with each new sound I clenched my fists harder.
I forced myself to commit the moment to memory. The moment where I had made the woman I cared for cry. No man did that. No man worthy of any woman’s time made her cry. I opened my orange pill bottle and threw one back, choking it down without any water to chase it with. I didn’t deserve the water. Just the bitter taste of the pill as it slowly inched its way into my stomach.
Then I wheeled over to the far wall and placed my hand on it, splaying my fingers along the only thing that separated Grace and I.
I willed her to stop crying as I imagined comforting her. Murmuring how sorry I was and kissing the ache away in her hand. I closed my eyes and slumped back into my chair, then drew in a deep breath.
There was a good chance I’d be in that damn thing forever.
And the only woman who was okay with that was crying because of me.
Fuck.
I really knew how to screw shit up.
Chapter Seventeen
Grace
I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone as I stared at all the boxes around me. It had taken me three days to pack my things up, and in that time Hayden hadn’t once talked to me. I had received my last paycheck underneath the crack of the guest bedroom door and that had been it. I couldn’t believe it. My heart was breaking. Every time I heard Hayden struggling or grunting or trying to get dressed, I wanted to go help him. Rush to him and try to get him steady on his own feet. I’d hear him slam against the wall or trip getting into his wheelchair or falling against the kitchen counter and there was nothing I could do.
It wasn’t my job anymore to help him.
“Emmy’s Flowers, this is Emilia speaking. How can I help you today?”
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Grace?”
“Yep.”
“Hey! What are you doing calling me at work?”
“I wanted to ask you a question,” I said.
“Then ask it, sweet cheeks.”
“Is that job you offered me still on the table?”
The silence that hung between us was deadly. And for a little while, I thought maybe it wasn’t. That she’d taken my advice and hired for the position already. That would be my luck, for me to turn down one job in favor of another only to have both of them taken from me. I put my head in my hands and placed my elbows on my knees and tried to block out the grunting and slamming around I heard in the room next to me.
“It is for you,” Emilia said.
“What do I need to do to get it back?” I asked.
“Come in tomorrow at nine sharp and help me with these damn azaleas. But I’m confused.”
“About the azaleas?”
“No. About your call. I thought you were keeping the position with your patient? At least, that’s the impression I got a week ago.”
“Well, that’s no longer the case. He doesn’t need full-time in-home assistance any longer, so my expertise are no longer necessary.”
“His loss. My gain. I’m glad to have you back, Grace. This place has missed you.”
“I was also hoping I could ask you for some advice.”
“On what?”
“Housing. I got rid of my own apartment to move in full-time with my patient, and now I need a place to stay,” I said.
“Oh, I’ve got that covered. My friend Ivy has been looking for someone to take up the spare space in her apartment for a while. She can’t foot that rent bill by herself but she’s been struggling to find a decent roommate. I’ll hook the two of you up.”
“I really appreciate that. Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Why this guy fired you?”
I sighed into the phone as I fell back onto the bed. I really didn’t. Because talking to Emilia about this meant getting into why I was actually upset at the situation. Why I actually didn’t want to leave. Why I really had wanted to stay.
And there was no use in admitting anything now. All of that had been some idiotic illusion concocted in my own head.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be an in-home nurse at all.
“Not really. But if you could get me Ivy’s number, I’d really appreciate it,” I said.
“No problem. I’ll send it to you in a text message and you can give her a call.”
“Thanks, Emilia.”
“No problem. And if you can’t start tomorrow, let me know. Whenever you get moved and settled, you can start then.”
“I really appreciate it.”
“Trust me, I do too. Though I get the feeling you’re upset about the whole thing. But don’t worry. I won’t press if you don’t want to talk. Just know I’m here if you do.”
I hung up the phone and waited for her to send me that text. I couldn’t make a move until I knew where I was headed. I heard the sounds of Hayden’s wheelchair coming down the hallway and I held my breath. I didn’t want him to hear me in here feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t want him to think he had gotten the best of me. I didn’t want him to know how heartbroken I was at what had happened between the two of us. How I had completely misconstrued our interactions into some stupid fantasy.
But when his wheelchair stopped, I saw a shadow sitting outside of my door.
My phone lit up in my hand, but part of me wanted to ignore it. To throw open the door and see him sitting there. What? He was going to eavesdrop on what I was doing now? Hadn’t he done enough damage for one man?
I tapped the number in the text message and held the phone up to my ear. If he wanted to hear this conversation, then I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“This is Ivy.”
“Hi. I um… well, my name is Grace Hunter. We have a mutual friend. Emilia?”
“Oh. Yes! Hi. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Um… well, I was talking to Emilia about needing a place to stay since I’m moving, and she said you had a spare bedroom in your apartment?”
“Yes, I’ve been looking to rent the thing out for months. How do you know Emilia?”
“I worked at the shop with her,” I said.
“Wait. Are you the nursing student she hired in a few years back?”
“That’s me,” I said with a grin.
“Girl, you are too cute. I come into the floral shop all the time and bring Emilia lunch. You’re always whistling in the back. I can’t whistle like that.”
“Hah! I didn’t think anyone was listening to that kind of stuff.”
“I was. Emilia and I go way back, so if she trusted you to work there, then you’re alright by me,” Ivy said with a
giggle. “Look, if you need a room, it’s yours. I’ll draw up a quick contract and you can rent it however long you need.”
“I really appreciate that a lot.”
“When were you looking to move in?”
“Soon, since I’m staring at a floor full of boxes.”
“Yikes. Well, I’m technically out of town right now at a design show, but I can call the front desk and have them leave you a key for the apartment. It’ll be the key you take with you anyway. So you can move in whenever you’re ready. Is this your cell number?”
“It is.”
“I’ll shoot you the address.”
“You don’t want to run a background check or anything?” I asked.
“Are you telling me I need to?”
“No, no. Not at all. I just… didn’t think it would be this easy.”
“I know Emilia. I’ve known her for many years. And she doesn’t befriend people I don’t trust. There isn’t anyone she’s encountered and liked that I haven’t enjoyed in return. The rent for the room will be $650 a month, but that includes half of the utilities as well. Then you’ll be responsible for your own groceries and such.”
“I can do that,” I said.
“I’ll shoot you the address then call the front desk. And if you get there to move in and they give you troubles, call me. I’ll set ‘em straight.”
“Sounds good,” I said with a smile. “And thank you so much. This really helps me out a lot.”
“Just tell Grace I expect a percentage off my floral arrangements for whenever I eventually decide to get married.”
I giggled and shook my head as I looked over towards the door. I saw the shadow move underneath the crack of the door before Hayden’s wheelchair could be heard riding down the hallway. What in the world was he doing? What was his problem? Whatever it was, it wasn’t my issue any longer. He’d be some part-time nurse’s problem, and there was a small part of me that was relieved at that prospect.
A small part.
The tiniest part of me that was fed up with his antics.
“I’ll see what I can negotiate,” I said.
“I knew you were good people. Let me get off here and get you that address. You’ll be the room on the right side of the apartment. Behind the kitchen. You’ll see what I mean when you get there.”
Mr. Beast Page 11
