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“Weird. Like I’m swimming.” Her words slurred together and her voice sounded far away.
I hummed. “Well, everyone will be really happy you’re out of surgery. I’ve gotten about a million texts asking about you.” With that in mind, I quickly texted Bunny, letting everyone know Nora was fine. “I’ll be shocked if we don’t have a crowd of people on our front porch when we get home to help you recover.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “I just want to sleep.”
“Sleep all you want,” I reassured her, leaning over and rubbing my thumb along her forehead.
“Don’t let anyone else come over. I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“You look great.”
Nora hiccuped. “Liar.”
The nurse came by an hour later and cleared Nora for discharge. Despite her protestations, an older man loaded her into a wheelchair and pushed her to the entrance while I pulled the car around. I’d packed the front seat with drinks and snacks, but she promptly curled up against the door and fell back asleep.
“Hey, Nora.” I rubbed her forearm when we arrived back at the house. Rather than park in the detached garage, I pulled right in front of the brick path to the front door. “We’re home. I’m going to come around and help you out.”
She murmured unintelligibly, but rolled off the door and onto the seat, her eyes still closed. I rounded the car, opened the passenger door carefully and helped her out of the vehicle.
“I don’t live here,” she protested weakly, her head drooping against my chest.
I tightened my grip around her waist, taking most of the weight off her feet. “Yes, you do.”
Her head lolled up at me, her body resisting the walk up the stairs. “Oh yeah. You carried me up these stairs before.”
I grinned. “Not the stairs. The threshold. You want me to carry you up the stairs?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, looping her other arm around me.
“You’re not exactly subtle, Nora,” I whispered into her ear as I climbed the steps, balancing her with one arm while I opened the front door.
I deposited her on the couch, tucking her under a blanket and setting the remote beside her before heading into the kitchen for snacks and drinks. When I returned, she had her eyes open, but hadn’t moved from where I’d set her.
“What do you want to watch?” I asked, sinking into the opposite end of the couch.
“Cars?”
“The movie, or?”
“Bikes?” she said groggily.
“How about a food show? Something easy to follow?” I turned on the TV and cued up a reality baking show, one with calming music and friendly contestants.
“You’re so far away,” she muttered, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. “Why are you so far away?” She extended a hand, patting the space between us. “I need help, Andy, drinking.” Twisting her head toward the coffee table, she opened her mouth, nowhere near the pile of drinks just an arm’s length away.
“Okay,” I relented, scooting over to the cushion beside her, picking a bottle of flavored water off the coffee table and holding it up to her mouth. She sipped at the drink, drawing up her legs and nestling into the crook of my arm.
“This is nice,” she whispered between sips. “But you know what would make it better?”
I shook my head. “Bikes?”
“The Price is Right,” she said, tilting her head back to look at me. “Do you remember that show?”
How could I not remember the mainstay of my childhood sick days? “Yeah, absolutely. I think it’s still on the air.”
She hummed and nuzzled her face into my neck, her soft breath making the hairs on my neck raise and my cock hard. Not exactly where my mind should be while she was still loopy from the anesthesia, but with Nora, I couldn’t help myself. “The show reminds me of my mom. Len says I was too little, but I remember her laying with me on the couch and it was playing with that dog guy.”
“Bob Barker.”
