Shiver

spurt of relief. A black plastic garbage bag swathed his leg from just below the boxers to the top of his knee. While she watched, he pulled the bag off so she could see what looked like acres of white gauze wrapped around and around his thigh beneath. “Not even damp.”
    “Oh, yay.” The marked lack of enthusiasm with which she said it made him smile. It was, Sam realized, the first time she had seen him really smile, and it was a revelation. Cute guy. The words popped into her head of their own volition, and she immediately realized that was how she would have described him to Kendra. It didn’t please her. At the look she gave him the smile broadened into a grin that was slightly lopsided, possibly due to his cut lip. It revealed strong white teeth and crinkles around the corners of his eyes, which, she was just now observing, were a deep, coffee brown. It was a teasing grin, and it made him look younger than she had thought. It was also sexy as hell.
    That thought made her scowl again. Sexy was the last word she wanted rattling around inside her head when it came to Marco. Almost as annoyed at herself now as she was at him, she started to turn away. She was so tired she was drooping with it,and the only cure for that was sleep. Sleep, too, would probably cure her headache. And what was that saying about everything looking better in the morning? She could only hope. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she saw that she was as pale as chalk, with shadows beneath her eyes. Even her mouth looked pale. She had washed and towel dried her hair—if there was a blow-dryer around she hadn’t found it—and tucked it behind her ears before going in to put Tyler to bed. Nearly dry now, it hung to the middle of her back in an unruly tangle of midnight black curls.
    She was something else that would hopefully look better in the morning. Or at least when she located a blow-dryer and had time to tame her hair.
    “Good night,” she added over her shoulder.
    Marco stopped her exit by coming out with a hasty, “Uh, by the way, since you were listening so well, did you happen to hear anything about how long until I’m good to go again? Because if anybody said anything about that, I totally missed it.”
    Turning back around, Sam shot him a scathing look. “You totally missed a lot, didn’t you? Probably because you’ve been high as a kite all day.”
    “I am not high. I’m on pain meds. And that would be because I’m in pain. At least, when I’m not on the meds.” That grin flashed at her again. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he added hastily, “So did you hear anything about how long it’s supposed to take for me to be able to walk without crutches again, or not?”
    “Nope.” He was reaching for his crutches, and against herbetter judgment she helped him out by handing over the one that was farthest from him. “Although he did say that you were supposed to change your bandages and put ointment on the wound every day for a week.”
    “Ah.” Marco looked pleased. “A week, then.”
    “But, see, I think you’re also supposed to stay off the leg for a week. As in, use the wheelchair they gave you. The crutches were for after that.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t like being pushed around in wheelchairs. And they’re hell climbing stairs.”
    Watching him fit the crutches under his arms, impressed by the muscles that she could see flexing in his chest and arms and then feeling annoyed at herself, first for looking and then for being impressed, she frowned at him. “Since we’re talking about how long things are supposed to take, do you have any idea how long it’ll be before Tyler and I can go home again?”
    Again with the shrug. Accompanied by a quick, assessing glance at her. That she read as meaning, You don’t want to know. And I don’t want to be the one to tell you. Then as her frown darkened he got busy hopping around trying to get his crutches situated. On purpose, she had no doubt.
    That lack of a direct reply made her angry. She folded her arms over her chest and fixed him with a simmering look.
    “Because we can’t just disappear, you know. Not for long. People will be worried about us.” Sam thought about Kendra, and her other friends, and her great-aunt Marla, former girlfriend of her aforementioned “uncle” Wilfred, whom she didn’t see a whole lot of but whom she did see from time to time and whowould miss her eventually, and Tyler’s father, whom she saw even less