Sucker For You | Jonas Brothers

Chapter 9

After a few days, Joe is released from hospital. I set up his room for him, making everything easily accessible since his arm is in a cast. His concussion is getting better, but he is still in a lot of pain from his broken ribs

I greet Nick and Joe as they enter their apartment. Joe is walking slowly, his face contorting into different expressions of discomfort, but he doesn't make a sound.

"Hey." Nick says, eyeing me as they walk past me through the doorway. Joe slowly takes a seat on the recliner, resting his cast covered arm on the edge of the chair.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, taking a seat on the couch. Nick headed into the kitchen and I can hear dishes clinking together. He must be making lunch.

Joe smiles at me weakly, brushing his messy curls out of his face, "fine." He says but I can tell he's lying. 

Nick comes into the room, he's holding a plate with a sandwich on it. He sets it on Joe's lap and Joe just stares at it.

"Maybe if you took the right amount of pain meds you wouldn't be in so much pain, and you could eat." Nick says, shaking his head.

"Really Joe?" I ask, disappointed.

"You guys know I don't like taking that sort of stuff." Joe says, picking up the sandwich with his good arm and taking a small bite.

"This is a circumstance where you need to though." I say.

Nick turns to me, "do you mind staying here with him for the day? I have a ton of stuff to do."

"Of course." I say.

"I'm not a child, I don't need a babysitter." Joe mumbles.

"Good luck with him." Nick says lowly so only I can hear. I giggle.

Nick pats Joe on the shoulder as he walks by him and heads out the door.

I stay quiet as Joe finishes his sandwich. I don't want to ask too many questions or seem too pushy. I know he doesn't like being vulnerable like he is. So I decide to let him come to me for help if he needs it.

After a while, he stands up. "I need a shower."

"Okay. Will you be okay?" I ask.

"It's just a shower." He snaps. I nod and don't say anything. He's usually not like this, but I can't blame him for being miserable. I would be too.

I watch him slowly walk out of the room and to the back where the bathroom is. I put on a tv show and watch, getting comfy on the couch. About ten minutes go by and I hear a loud crash. I jump up and run to the closed bathroom door. I hear a groan.

"Are you okay?" I ask through the door.

"I slipped and fell. It hurts too much to get up."

"Should I call 911?" I ask, panicking.

"No, no way." He says, clearly annoyed.

"What do I do?" I ask, grabbing the doorknob.

"Don't come in." He says, softer this time.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I have no clothes on." He says.

Right, duh. I feel my cheeks warm and I suddenly feel embarrassed.

"Well I can try to call Nick, but it might take him a while to get here. Let me just help you out."

"But..."

"Ill walk in, I won't look and I'll quickly grab your towel and hand it to you so you can cover up."

"Fine." He says.

I open the door, keeping my eyes to the floor. I spot the towel on the sink and grab it. I close my eyes and walk slowly towards the tub, sticking the towel out with my hand. I feel him grab it.

"Okay." He says.

I open my eyes and he's laying in the tub, like he could be taking a bath. Water drips from his wet hair and I try to focus on my mission. It's so warm in here.

"I'll grab under your shoulders and lift you okay? Just help as much as you can."

"Okay." He says.

I grab his wet skin, ignoring the how my own is setting on fire. I hate how he makes me feel this way.

I lift as hard as I can and he lets out a small moan as he finally makes it to his feet.

"I can't put my arm around you and hold my towel up." He says, eyeing his cast.

"Put your arm around me and I'll keep your towel up."

I grab onto the towel that rests on his waist, my hand rubbing against his toned stomach. I feel my stomach flip. God, get yourself together I think to myself.

We finally make it to his bedroom and I help him take a seat on his bed, slowly removing myself from underneath his arm.

He avoids eye contact with me as he leans his back against the wall, breathing in and out slowly. I walk over to his nightstand and grab his pain medicine and glass of water.

I walk back over to him, handing him both items. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Please take these." I say, "I hate seeing you in pain." I admit.

He stares at me for a long moment and then takes the medicine from me. I sigh with relief after he swallows it down with the glass of water.

I sit down beside him on the bed, trying to ignore the fact that he's still only in a towel. "Thank you." I say lowly.

He reaches out and rests his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently but not letting go. I feel warm flood through my body and I pray he doesn't notice how red my face must be.

"Thanks for helping me." He says, rubbing his fingertips gently up and down my back. I'm caught off guard by this sudden gesture, but I don't want him to stop.

His hand comes to a stop at my shoulder again, and I put my hand over his. He grabs it, intertwining our fingers together. I feel my heart beat faster, and my breath catches for a moment.

I look at him, confusion obvious on my face. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something but then shuts again before anything comes out. We just look at each other, like we are frozen in time.