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Chapter 9
Tori
Dragging the washcloth down my bare arms and chest, Bash whispers adorable things into my ear, making me feel less self-conscious about sitting naked on the floor with him. It also helps me forget that I just puked up my dinner in front of him. Again.
How many times will I repeat the same thing with Bash over the course of one weekend?
This is humiliating, but I’m also glad Bash is here instead of Jessica. Bash just lets me do my thing without freaking out, where Jessica would have been a total spaz and tried to take me to the emergency room at least ten times by now. Plus, Bash has changed so much from what I can tell in the short amount of time we have spent together.
The Bash I once knew would do the same things he has done for me in the last two days. I guess this side of him has always been there. I had always known Bash was a decent person deep down inside, even if he buried that part of him around others. But I didn’t want to admit that to myself after everything that had happened between us.
The night I’d given Bash my virginity was special. He spared no expense and rolled out the red carpet. He told me he loved me that night. But I already knew he felt that way about me. It was in his actions and his words.
Bash presses his lips to my ear and says, “Do you have a robe or something you can wear?”
It must have hit him that we’re still naked and Doc is on his way.
“Uh-huh,” I say, leaning my head back on his shoulder, too tired to offer any more information.
I could sit here with Bash’s arms around me forever. But at some point, the doctor will be knocking on my door. Judging by the way Bash scans the room, his eyes landing on a pink terry cloth robe on a hook by the shower stall, it must be soon.
“Doc will be here any minute. We need to get some clothes on. And you need to get back into bed and get some rest.”
Using the floor to push himself up to his feet, Bash takes a second to get his bearings and then holds his hand out to me. I place my hand in his, my body still trembling. In one swift motion, Bash lifts me off the floor and into his arms, cradling me against his chest once more. He treats me as if I’m a piece of fine china. I’m sure by now everyone at Strickland University knows abo
ut how fragile I am. Or at least how breakable I used to be.
Bash already broke me once. I don’t think he would do it again. His apologies seem sincere. If he were only after sex, he wouldn’t stay here while I vomit for the hundredth time in two days. And he wouldn’t have slept on my couch for the weekend so that he can nurse me back to health. He cares about me, loves me, even. I still can’t believe he uttered those words to me an hour ago.
We were about to have sex, and this stupid concussion had to get in the way. That’s just my luck. Maybe it’s for the best. After waiting years, I think we can hold out a little while longer.
By the time we get dressed, and Bash helps me back into bed, we hear a loud knock at the door. Bash rushes to answer, in jeans that hang low from his narrow hips. When the room isn’t spinning, I get a perfect view of his ass, as he struts out of the room. How is this real? I keep thinking that my concussion is a dream and that Bash will disappear as fast as he walked back into my life.
“Hi, Victoria,” Dr. Holland says with a wave. He flashes an apprehensive smile the closer he gets to my bed, staring down at me with a concerned look on his face. “I hear you’re getting worse. Can you tell me about what’s going on? When the episodes start again are you doing any strenuous activity?”
I glance up at Bash, a devious smile plastered on my face that mirrors his. Then, I shift my attention back to Dr. Holland, thinking over my answer.
“I wouldn’t say I was doing anything strenuous, per say.” I give him a sheepish grin.
“Okay.” He kneels next to my bed and sets a black medical bag on the floor. “Can you tell me what you were doing before the last incident occurred?”
“Um…” I bite down on my bottom lip, focused on Bash. “We were about to—”
“We were making out,” Bash interjects.
Dr. Holland shakes his head in disapproval. “You were supposed to be taking care of Victoria, not putting the moves on her, Bash. That is not why I had asked you to stay with her.”
Bash turns away from Doc. He knows the doctor is right.
Hell, even I knew that what we were doing was a mistake with how I was feeling today. Even though I made it through a steamy shower with Bash and some playful make out sessions, my head was throbbing, and the room was spinning for most of it. If I'm honest with myself, I haven’t felt one hundred percent since before the football hit me.
“I’m almost sorry that I asked you to watch over her,” Dr. Holland says to Bash. “If anyone should know better, it is you.”
“Look, Doc, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand. Tori’s health is my number one priority.”
They continue the back and forth banter about my condition and how Bash should have done the right thing for a few minutes before the conversation ends. Dr. Holland removes a flashlight and shines it into each of my eyes. I have no idea what he’s looking for, but he asks me to follow the light.
“You need to get some rest, Victoria.” Dr. Holland says, his voice firm. “It’s important that you stop all activities, including reading, studying, and texting. Anything that requires thinking or moving—no matter how big or small—needs to stop until your brain has had the time to recover. Do you understand?”
