“I have a feeling that we are in a serious relationship, but I don’t know if that’s the case or if we’re just having fun and messing around?” It comes out as a question, and I’m not sure what to respond. It feels so strange to have to tell him that we are in a committed relationship. I look into his clear blue eyes, and I can almost see the need for answers. Like it’s somehow palpable.
“We love each other.” The words are out before I can catch them, and I brace myself for his reaction. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but when he brushes his hand over mine and says, “Good,” I feel like I can finally breathe properly for the first time in days.
GOOD? WHAT KIND of response is good? Holy shit, I think I’ve just told her I love her—kind of. I’ve never said that before. Or maybe I have. For all I know I tell her I love her all the time. I’m not sure I even know how to be in love with someone. I don’t think anyone except my mom has ever loved me before, but then again I wonder if she actually loves me at all? I mean, if she did she wouldn’t have stood by doing nothing all these years as I struggle in this existence, desperately trying to impress a man that seemingly hates my guts, and likes to remind me of this with his fists. I shake the thought from my mind as I look up from my hand sitting on top of Blair’s. The anxiety of thinking about loving her is causing it to tremble. She’s watching me. Can she tell what’s going on in my head right now? There’s a hint of a smile on those perfect plump lips and I can’t drag my eyes away from them. It’s weird; my mind doesn’t remember her, yet I’m pretty sure my body does. I didn’t mean to take her hand; it was a subconscious decision. I’m not a hand holder but there’s no way I’m pulling away first. This feels too good, and it’s threatening to make her smile.
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
Wait, what? I blink a few times trying to refocus my thoughts.
“Earth to Ethan,” she laughs. The sound makes my body hum, and every single nerve is aware of her proximity and it’s making me hard. I feel myself twitch before remembering that I’m wearing cotton pajama pants.
Shit.
I need to gain some control, think of something to kill my semi… Jackson’s granny—yeah, that oughta do it. Jackson’s granny naked on a cold day, Jackson’s granny naked on a cold day, Jackson’s granny naked on a cold day!
“I asked if you were allowed to leave the room. I thought we could go and get a coffee,” she says, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. It’s undoing the work my little mantra was achieving.
I feel the corners of my mouth lift a little and something tells me I’d agree to go just about anywhere with this chick if she asked me.
“Why are you smirking? What are you thinking about?”
“Jackson’s granny naked on a cold day,” I hear myself answer.
I freeze in realization and immediately want to retract the words, but it’s too late.
To say that she looks shocked would be an understatement. I panic and stand up from the bed. Her eyes zero in on my junk and then she rears her head back looking completely mortified. Her jaw drops before she scrunches her nose.
“Oh shit, it’s not what it looks like!” I practically shout. “Well, it is, but…damn, okay, so this is embarrassing. I was thinking about Jackson’s granny to calm my dick down from you laughing.”
Her features begin to smooth before morphing into amusement. She shakes her head a little and looks up at me, then back down to my crotch, before her eyes flick back up to mine. She’s sporting a huge ass grin.
“At least someone remembers me!” she squeaks, and then lets out a full-blown belly laugh. Her head’s thrown back as she clutches onto her stomach.
“I’d love to grab a coffee with you, but I’m gonna need a minute,” I tell her, nodding towards the bathroom. “I have to go splash some water about and cool the hell down.” I’m not shy, but I feel like a complete tool at the moment.
Her chuckles continue as she leans forward. “Shit, it hurts to laugh,” she breathes, trying to rein in the weird giggle snort thing she’s doing.
I smile at her in amusement. “Why does it hurt?”
She rubs gently at her side and then pulls her shirt up slightly. She’s careful not to expose anything other than giving me a glimpse of the dressing covering part of her abdomen. “The stitches haven’t healed fully from my surgery.” She shrugs and then lets her shirt fall back into place.
My smile slips and my stomach plummets as I realize that the whole time she’s been in here, I didn’t once think to ask if she’s okay. The image of her holding a drip stand floats to the front of my mind.
Fuck!