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“It could get infected. What if it does?”
I frown and nod my head. “Okay Boss, I’ll go to the hospital in the morning. How about we just patch me up for the night?”
She seems satisfied with that.
“Okay, we’re going to the hospital tomorrow.”
“We?”
“We.”
She doesn’t look back at me fully. It’s more of a glance then she does a good job patching me up with the bandages.
When she finishes, she takes my hand, leads me over to the bed and sits me down. I watch her take charge. She undoes my belt buckle and my fly and it reminds me of the first time she sucked my cock.
She’s not doing that now, but it’s just as sexy.
She takes off my pants and presses her hand into my chest to push me back against the stack of pillows when I try to get up.
I’m lying there watching her and I swear I believe we exist in this little bubble within an alternate universe.
She walks over to the light switch and turns it off, then comes back to the bed to lie next to me on my good side. I pull her into my arms and she rests her head against my chest.
I hold her and I’m not sure when, but sleep takes me. It takes me and I realize that these moments when I’m with her, I really do forget.
* * *
It’sthe sun that wakes me up.
The bright beams seems to have gotten brighter and shine down on me.
I wake up and I’m alone. She’s not here and I’m pissed.
I know the unspoken understanding so far has been that she leaves before I wake. Still this was supposed to be different.
Her leaving isn’t something I factored in.
I get up and make my way downstairs. Then the aroma of delicious food hits me just before I get to the last step on the stairs.
Eggs, bacon, and something else. I get to the kitchen and see her in there, smiling as she flips a pancake.
When she sees me the smile widens.
She didn’t leave. She’s in here cooking for me.
“Morning,” she coos. “I hope you like pancakes. I made a blueberry mix and I have fruit and syrup.”
I just look at her because this all feels weird. She giggles and it’s the nicest sound I’ve heard in a long time.
She settles the frying pan down, cuts a slice of pancake and walks over to me with it pierced onto a fork.
She wants me to take it and eat it, when mostly I want to eat her. Instead of my sweatshirt, she’s wearing one of my dress shirts and I can see her breasts pushing against the cotton.
She gets to me and I oblige by lowering my head and taking the little piece of pancake she has ready for me.
It’s sweet but just the right amount of sweet. A little like her.
“Hmmm.” I nod.
