Which made no sense since I hated the bastard for everything he’d done to me, for what he’d taken from me.
I ripped the refrigerator open and felt a measure of relief go through me when I saw a container of orange juice. I snatched it from the door and ripped the cap off as I made my way to the cabinets. I grabbed a glass and sloshed some of the orange juice into it before rushing back to the living room. Brewer was still standing watch over the man. His tail thumped wildly when he saw me. I'd have plenty of time to reward the dog for both his keen sense and his stubbornness.
I sat back down on the side of the couch and reached down to put my arms beneath the man. Not surprisingly, he fought me when I forced him to sit up.
"Le’ me lone," he choked out.
I knew better than to give in to his request. "I need you to drink this," I said forcefully as I put the glass to his lips. The man tried to resist, but I tipped his head back and as soon as he opened his mouth to protest, I forced some juice into it. He choked a little, but thankfully his instincts kicked in and he swallowed. I gave him just enough to keep him from gagging and then waited. The man muttered something incoherently at me, but when I lifted the glass to his lips again, he didn't fight me as much.
"That's it," I said encouragingly as I continued to get the juice into him. It took a good ten minutes to get him to drink all of the juice, but only when the glass was completely empty did I ease my hold on him. I set the glass on the table and used the corner of one of the blankets to wipe at the man's face. His head lolled back and forth, but he managed to keep himself upright when I released him. I reached for the glucose meter again and quickly checked his blood sugar. I was relieved to see it had already started to climb.
The man was sitting silently in front of me, his eyes closed. I clasped his neck and asked, "Sir, can you hear me?"
Several long seconds passed before he nodded tiredly.
"How are you feeling?" I asked. I wasn’t really surprised when he didn't answer me verbally. But it was a relief when he nodded his head again. "Do you think you can stay sitting by yourself?"
Another nod.
I got him situated so he could lean back against the couch cushions for support as I hurried to get the fire going. I kept an eye on him the entire time I worked. He was clearly fatigued, but some of the color seemed to be returning to his cheeks and the sweat on his brow appeared to be drying up. I couldn't see any signs that his body was still shaking, either. It took less than a minute to get the fire started. I glanced around the room and noticed that many of the items in it were, like the kitchen, knocked over or no longer in their original spots. It occurred to me that he must've been feeling his way around the cabin in the middle of the night, presumably after the power had gone out.
I returned to the couch, but this time I sat on the coffee table so as to not crowd the man. "Sir—"
"Lex," the man interrupted. "Don't like sir," he added. His voice had a hint of discomfort in it, but it wasn't my place to question it.
"Lex," I agreed. "Do you know where you are?"
"The woods," he responded tiredly. "They're quiet."
If he’d said the last part in confusion, I would've tested his blood sugar again right away, but his words held more of a disappointed quality to them. "That they are," I agreed. "That's why most people come here. To get away from the noise of their lives."
Up until that moment, the man, Lex, had kept his eyes closed. He chose that moment to lift his head and open them and I found myself struggling to breathe, though I had no idea why. His eyes were the color of storm clouds. Storm clouds that were shot with light and dark shadows at the same time. The pointer finger on my right hand began tapping as if I held my camera in my hand. I couldn't say what was more disturbing—that I wanted to photograph him or that I wanted to do more than just that.
Okay, yeah, I did know what was more disturbing. It was the latter. There was no reason to reach out to touch his forehead, but that was what I wanted to do anyway. And I still had that weird need to feel his hair.
"Is that why you're here?" he asked.
I wasn't expecting the question. It would've been easy enough to make up some blasé response, but I couldn't make any words clear my lips. Instead, all I could do was sit there and stare at him while he stared at me.
"How are you feeling?" I finally found the wherewithal to ask.
"Tired," he admitted.
"Yeah," I responded. "You're going to feel that way for a while." When I found myself doing the weird staring thing again, I said, "How about I go look for something for you to eat?"
I didn't wait for Lex to respond because I was already on my feet. As I made my way back to the kitchen, I glanced over my shoulder to see Brewer nudging Lex's hands with his nose. Lex pulled his hands back at first, but then tentatively reached forward. My dog was a smart cookie and learned things quickly, so this time he waited for Lex to come to him and when he did, Brewer didn't move. That seemed to give Lex the courage to run his hand over the top of Brewer's head. My dog's tail flipped happily back and forth as he reveled in Lex's touch. I nearly stumbled when I realized I was actually jealous of my own dog.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I sought sanctuary in the small kitchen and took several minutes to find Lex something to eat. I settled for a granola bar I found in the cupboard. I also grabbed the orange juice container and a bottle of water before returning to the living room. Brewer had his head completely on Lex's lap. The husky was in seventh heaven as Lex's long fingers stroked over his soft fur. I found myself standing at the end of the couch staring at the pair. Why in the world was I wishing I could somehow trade places with my damn dog?
Lex looked my way, which got me moving. "I've got some OJ and some water," I mumbled. "Which do you want?"
"The water, please," Lex responded.
I stepped toward him and said, "I'd like to test your blood sugar again. If it's still low, you can drink some more juice and that should help get it up."
Lex nodded. I handed him the bottle of water but he didn't reach for it. "Here you go," I said. I had no particular desire to get too close to him until I figured out what the hell was going on with me. Something about the guy clearly just rubbed me the wrong way. While I was glad I'd been there to help him out, I was eager to get out of there so I wouldn't have to dwell on why it was so damn hard to keep my feet rooted in the same spot.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts that it took me a moment to notice Lex's hesitation to reach for the bottle I'd extended to him. I stepped closer, thinking he couldn't reach it, but then he stuck his hand out straight in front of him.
Problem was, I wasn't in front of him. I was a good two feet to his right. But his hand made no move in my direction or that of the water bottle. Heat traveled along my nerve endings as the ugly truth settled in my bones. I stepped forward and made sure to put the bottle of water in Lex's hand. He took it and murmured what I assumed was his thanks. I didn't want to believe what my mind was telling me, so I extended the granola bar and said, "Here's a granola bar. Should help you get your strength back and stabilize your blood sugar."