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After a couple minutes, he comes back with a warm wet washcloth and cleans me off. When he finishes with that, he grabs a bottle of lotion out the drawer.
“What’s that?”
“A soothing ointment for that sexy ass. I always use this after impact, so your skin doesn’t toughen up over time. How are you feeling after that?” he asks as he works the ointment into my skin.
“I’m,” I have to stop and think, “I’m surprisingly good. I feel kind of floaty.”
“That’s normal,” he chuckles a little bit, “you might come down in a little while or even in a day or two. If that happens and we’re not together, I want you to call me no matter what.” He pulls my hair over one shoulder, so he can look in my eyes. “Okay?”
“Yes, Sir,” I say with extra sass.
“Good girl,” he says with a light slap on the back of my thigh.
* * *
I left Griff’s when he got up to do his daily run. There are a few things I need at home before rehearsal today. I don’t know where he found the energy for that after last night. I’m exhausted after waking up to him with his face buried between my thighs for three more orgasms shortly after one a.m. I think he might possess some sort of superhuman sex drive.
I still have that high, floaty feeling as I step into my penthouse. I set my keys down and spin to go to my bedroom when my good mood comes crashing down. My mother is sitting in a chair by the window, a blanket wrapped around her like she’s been here all night.
“What the hell?” I screech. “Why are you sitting in my apartment like this?”
“I was going through the mail at home and found this.” She picks up an envelope from the arm of the chair and holds it out to me.
I take it from her hands and immediately realize what it is. It’s an insurance statement with billing from my specialist’s office. I set it down on the coffee table and turn to leave the room. I’m not prepared to talk about it yet.
“Claire,” she stands and follows me, “I’m going to need you to start talking. Why are you seeing a doctor that specializes in the treatment of Multiple Sclerosis? Why have you been seeing him for almost six months without us knowing about it?”
“Wow, Mother. I knew you were disloyal, but I didn’t know you were stupid, too,” I infuse as much ice into my voice as possible as I turn to her. “You don’t get to throw me away like trash to live out some middle age fantasy and then come back four years later and pretend to care.”
“Your father has forgiven me, you’re going to need to do the same eventually.” Her eyes are covered in a sheen of tears. “If you’re sick, honey, we want to help you.”
“Hard pass on the forgiveness, and I’ll be fine.”
The first tear falls down her cheek, and the tiniest part of me cracks for her. Just a bit. “Claire, I love you. Your father loves you. Connor loves you. You have to let us be there for you.”
“No.” I open my dresser drawer and pull out some clothes and then slam it shut again. “What I need to do is enjoy my one shot at a normal life before I end up walking with a cane and eventually wheelchair-bound. I need to dance this role this summer better than anyone’s ever danced before. I have one shot to achieve my dream, and I cannot be derailed by Dad and Con fawning all over me. You cannot tell them until after the final performance. I will never forgive you.”
“I don’t like lying.” She has the audacity to say that with a straight face.
“Really?” I look at her with my eyebrows up to my hairline. “It’s never seemed to bother you before.”
“Consider it a new leaf.” She sits on the bench at the end of my bed and pats beside her.
I decide to give in and sit.
“I won’t say anything,” she says as soon as I’m beside her, “but I want you to keep me in the loop on everything. I’d like to go with you to your next appointment.”
“Blackmail.”
“Eh, it’s more like coercion if you think about it,” she smiles at me. “Do we have a deal?”
“I guess. It’s not like you’re leaving me a choice.” I pick up my phone and text her my appointments for the next couple months.
“Where were you last night?” she asks looking around my room.
“We’re not friends. I’m not doing the girl talk thing with you.” I stand.
“I love you, Claire,” she says as I shut the door to the bathroom behind me.
