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Well, obviously I said that out loud.
“This is so unfair.”
“If you eat and keep it down, I’ll see what I can do when they take the IV out later.” He flicks my bottom lip with his thumb.
I nip it. “See what you can do? You either finger me, lick me, or fuck me. There really aren’t a whole lot of options, and if you can’t do any of those, I’m trading you in.”
He smirks. “I’ll see what food I can get you.”
“I want ice cream. And Jell-O. And sour candy.”
He stops in front of the door and looks at me. “You are not having those things.”
“Why not? I’m sick. That’s what sick people have.”
I smile triumphantly when he realizes that he’s backed himself into a corner.
“Fine,” he relents. “You’re not sick. I’ll get you food and I’ll give you an orgasm later. Okay?”
“At home. I want an orgasm at home.”
“Don’t push it.”
Three hours.
It’s been three hours since I ate a chicken sandwich and I haven’t vomited.
It’s a fucking miracle.
“Did you get me any chips?”
Tyler frowns. “What—oh. Those chips. No.”
“Oh. I want some.” I exhale. “I’m hungry. And I really need to pee.”
I swing my legs out of the bed and grab my IV. I wheel it into the bathroom, do my business, and go back into the room. Tyler watches me with amusement.
“I don’t want to get into bed.”
He laughs. “You’re a bloody awful patient, Liv.”
“Well!” I huff. “I’m not being sick. I’m peeing like a goddamn racehorse, and I’m eating. Why can’t I go home? Why do I have to stay in bed? My legs work.”
He stands and walks to me. “Would you like me to see if you’re allowed to get dressed and come to the shop with me?”
“Without this bitch?” I shove the IV forward.
“No, you’re not taking it out. They only just changed the bag. You know they said they’ll take it out when it’s empty. Now sit down and wait a minute.”
I sit in the chair he was just in and grumble something I don’t even understand. I don’t actually think I said any words, just a bunch of awkward, annoyed sounds put together.
Truth is, I know I have to keep the IV line in. I know I have to stay here until they say otherwise, but the problem with hospitals is that they’re not exactly relaxing. They’re too clinical and sterile. And boring. Completely boring.
“Okay,” Tyler says, coming back in. “You can get dressed and come down to the shop with me.”
“And how hard did you have to charm her for that?” I grunt, getting up.
He throws my leggings and shirt at me. “I’m neither confirming nor denying any charming happened.”
