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I do feel better, thanks to the heat at my back. Good enough to make a joke. “Are you asking me to Netflix and chill?”
“Just trying to take care of my patient,” he tells me, not unkindly.
Oh, right. I’m a patient. Stupid dumb joke. I’m sure the last thing he thinks of me is sexy. I don’t even think the tiny string bikini I brought can undo seeing all this.
“I’m not wearing pants,” I tell him. I took them off on the last bathroom run again. If the sheet weren’t here, he’d probably be catching a peek at pad wings. Fortunately, I don’t say that part out loud. So sexy.
He grins at me. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all before, and I’m a professional. Now hang on, let me refill the hot water bottle.”
Once we get renewed heat situated under my lower back, he grabs some of the extra pillows off the floor and climbs into bed. “If it makes you feel better, I can take my pants off.”
Wait. Did he just flirt with me? Ugh. Now my flirt radar is broken.
“Come on, let’s watch something,” he says. “You pick first.”
* * *
“What the fuckare they describing? Cookie crust, caramel filling, chocolate coating?”
“Yeah, this is a serious game of guess-the-name-brand so British Bake Off doesn’t get sued.”
“It’s a Snickers.”
“No, a Twix.”
“I thought Twix was nougat?”
“No, that’s a Three Musketeers.”
“Wait, what’s nougat then?”
“You’re the one who said nougat! You don’t know what it means?”
* * *
“Ugh, this is a big one.”
“What is?”
“This...cramp.”
“Hey…I’m sorry. Do you want to hold my hand through it?”
“...Yeah.”
* * *
“I’d bang Cary Elwes.”
“Me too.”
“...Are you gay?”
“No.”
“Oh. Yeah. He is that hot.”
“Honestly, Buttercup doesn’t deserve him. Get some agency, lady!”
