Between Mother and Daughter

“Carys, can you relieve me?”

I turned beet red as Bryan squirmed in distress, sweat soaking his face.

Little did I know, there was more to the harmless-looking man I had always seen as a brother.

“Can you wipe me down, Carys?” Bryan Cumberland parked his wheelchair outside my bedroom door.

His request took me by surprise.

How was I, a lady, supposed to help him?

While I was a year older than him, I was not related to him by blood.

Mom brought Bryan home.

She and a friend, along with her family, were in a car accident while traveling a week ago.

Unfortunately, Bryan’s parents died in the crash.

Bryan and Mom were lucky to survive the ordeal. While Mom was alive and well, Bryan’s legs were broken.

Given her friendship with the family, Mom volunteered to care for Bryan, and the arrangement would remain until Bryan could walk again.

Mom would usually be on top of Bryan’s hygiene care. However, she was out today.

Before leaving the house this morning, Mom urged me, “Please watch Bryan, Carys.”

Come to think of it, I should give him a good wipe because of his mobility issues. However, I panicked the moment I wheeled Bryan into the bathroom.

My heart raced.

Bryan took off his shirt, revealing his rock-hard abs.

Feeling the burn on my cheeks, I gulped hard.

I didn’t expect Bryan to be so ripped.

When sitting still in his wheelchair during the day, he gave off a harmless puppy dog vibe. Now, though, his physique was that of a powerful beast.

He was quite the man.

His shirt was off, but he needed help with his pants.

Bryan read my dilemma in my reluctance. He said, “I can shower on my own, Carys. I’ll be careful not to get my legs wet.”

His remark filled me with guilt.

As the patient, Bryan didn’t read much in the situation. He was too considerate for his own good.

Yet my mind was in the gutter.

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” I bit the bullet and said.

I then unbuckled his belt.

It unhooked with a click; the noise echoing in the quiet bathroom.

The only sounds were Bryan’s and my breathing.

I got down on my knees to slip him off his pants, careful not to aggravate his injury.

As his lower legs were in casts, only his upper legs were accessible for washing.

My eyes fell on the muscular lines running across his strong legs, and my cheeks turned red.

With my eyes closed, I helped him out of his boxers.

My hands shook when in contact with his burning skin.

Amid my fluster, Bryan let out a muffled grunt.

After wringing out the towel, I started to wipe him down. Still, his body temperature remained high.

“It’s boiling, Carys.”

Sweat dripped from his face.

I immediately wiped the sweat off his face, but he grabbed me by the hand.

His breath was hot against my skin, his