But this wasn’t to lecture him on staying off his feet, or to measure out his meds. He was extremely social and didn’t like being alone.
She knew because she was the same.
Huffing out a strangely irritated breath, she stood and went to his room. She peeked her head around first.
He was watching Schitt’s Creek, too. Gertrude’s growl alerted Graham to Claire’s presence, so she took a few steps in.
She reached across her body and rubbed her upper arm with the opposite hand. “I was watching that, too. Want some company?”
He patted the mattress beside him.
She smiled and settled in, propping a few pillows up to lean against the headboard. “Your bed is ridiculously comfortable, you know that?”
He just winked, and she groaned.
Gertrude shifted closer to Graham, probably to get as far away from Claire as possible.
They watched two episodes before Graham texted her that he was bored out of his mind.
She looked around his room. “Did you do your exercises today?”
He nodded. He must have done it while she was at the store, which irritated her. He didn’t need to be trying to lift weights or do any of the non-weight-bearing leg exercises the doctor had recommended while he was at the condo alone.
“Want to play a video game?”
He scrunched his nose.
“Card game?”
He perked up at that, and sent her a text.
Strip poker?
Her stomach flipped at the mental image of Graham in his underwear this morning, but she’d never let it show. She cocked a brow and replied, “I already saw you almost naked this morning and it got you nowhere. I don’t see the point.”
If you were naked I definitely wouldn’t be bored.
“Not happening.”
He crossed his thick arms over his chest and she had to look away lest she change her mind. Nice arms were a particular weakness of hers, and the muscles of his forearms and biceps were so toned and perfect they could be sculpted and put on display next to a Michelangelo sculpture in Italy.
She cleared her throat. “You could borrow my Kindle if you want to read a book.”
Graham’s sigh was so despondent she had to laugh.
“You know, lot of people would be thrilled to have the opportunity to relax in bed for a few weeks.”
Not me. I can’t do this. It’ll be even worse when you go back to work.
Claire racked her brain for anything else to suggest. “Have you ever tried writing? Like in a journal?”
He shook his head and his expression said he didn’t intend to consider it now.
“I know it’s not a common thing for guys to do, but my therapist recommended it after my dad died. I was only eleven, but I was in a bad place, and to be honest, judging by the look on your face today, there’s a good chance you could get depressed as time goes on.”
Smart-ass, nurse, therapist…is there anything you don’t do?
“I mean it, Graham. Ignore me if you want, but I took her advice and it helped me a ton. I’d write about good things that happened to me and things I was thankful for. Not only did it pass time, but it gave me other things to think about and focus on. I still missed my dad, but my perspective improved.”
Seems weird to me. Like writing to myself. What’s the point if the thoughts are already in my head?
“You’d be surprised how different it comes out when you put it on paper. And you could write to someone else if that makes it less weird. Hell, you could write to me.” She paused as soon as the words left her mouth, frowning a little. A journal was extremely personal. Not only that, but Graham was the last person who would ever write his feelings and share them with her. She wasn’t even sure he acknowledged them to himself.
She thought quickly, hoping to spin it in a different way. Because the man really did need something to do when he was here alone. Without a way to pass the time, she could see him doing something foolish like home improvement projects or taking a drive. “When I’m at work and you’re bored out of your mind, just write me a note and tell me what you’d rather be doing in that moment. Tell me places you want to go and things on your bucket list. If you don’t have one, make one. You’ve got nothing but time.”
He cocked an eyebrow and started typing.
You want me to sit here and write to you about all the things I want to do but can’t? THAT’S depressing.
“It is if you want to think about it like that,” she said, unable to hide the irritation seeping through her tone.
Graham just looked at her, and it was hard to tell what he was thinking. She was so patient with her patients at work, but evidently that didn’t transfer to the home health sector.