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I rocked back and forth, my churning stomach be damned. “Yeah.”
“Can I come over? I think we need to do this face-to-face.” He didn’t sound angry, which was a good sign, but he definitely didn’t seem happy. Looking in the mirror, I cringed at the mess of a man staring back. The entire area below my right eye was a vicious hue of dark purple. There was a tiny bit of red inside of the eye itself. It looked like my eyeball was bleeding. The whole area was a swollen, hideous situation, and I didn’t want him to see me like that.
“Can we just do it over the phone? I look terrible.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
“My eye.” I wanted to tell him it was a disaster area. That it should be sectioned off with yellow crime scene tape so that no one could see the hideousness of it all. “I look like a monster.”
“Listen, I’m coming whether you want me to or not. I told you last night, it’s my job to take care of you. Do you need anything? Alka Seltzer? Pepto? I’ve got some leftover pain meds from when I had a tooth pulled last year,” he said, dishing out opiates in lieu of his love. “I just need a few minutes to trick Dog-Dog into getting in his crate.”
“What the hell is a Dog-Dog?”
“My dog. You met him last night, remember?” A dog growled in the background, and it sounded like Gray had whimpered. “Crap. He’s looking me dead in the eyes. That’s never a good sign. Listen, baby, I’m going to stop by the pharmacy on the way over. Give me an hour, okay? Try not to get punched in the face in the meantime.”
REASON THIRTEEN
I’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe it.
Aftershoweringawaythestench of the night before, I threw on a pair of sweats and a black V-neck. I didn’t expect our conversation to lead us anywhere near my bedroom, but I still put on a fresh set of sheets and a clean blanket. When I was done, I used an entire bottle of air freshener and opened both windows in hopes that the smell of vomit and strawberry-flavored lube might fade before he got there.
When he arrived, all the lights were turned off downstairs, and the curtains were drawn. In part, because of my hellish hangover, but also to keep hidden the monstrosity that was my black eye.
He rang the bell, and I shouted for him to come in, not wanting to risk having to witness the light pouring in from the doorway. “I’m in here,” I called out from the living room.
“Kent?” The sound of his footsteps made their way across the hardwood floors. I sat with my back to the living room entrance, toward the darkest corner of the room.
“Why is it so dark in here?”
“My head is killing me.”
Through the darkness, he found my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He made his way around me and sat on the other side of the couch. “I brought you a bunch of stuff. Think I bought the whole dang pharmacy.” He’d been so sure of himself on the phone earlier, but now, he sounded nervous. Now, he was fumbling through his medicine-filled bag of tricks. Now, even through the darkness that shrouded the room, I could see his hands were shaking.
He handed me a bottle of water and a handful of tablets. “A little Pepto and some ginseng. The Vicodin will either make your head hurt less or give you a buzz. I didn’t care for the feeling, personally. Either way, you’ll forget about the pain.” As he handed me the water bottle, his thumb stroked the side of my hand. “Can I turn on a lamp or something?”
“I look bad,” I warned him. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have anything to be self-conscious about,” he said. I reached behind the couch and pulled the curtain back, allowing in just enough sunlight so we were no longer sitting in complete darkness. Gray’s jaw went slack as he looked at my eye. “I think you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”
“Yeah?” How does one even respond to something like that? How do you thank someone for giving you a handful of words capable of shaking you to your core? I knew I had to try. I reached up, running my fingers through his hair.
Dry.
Not a drop of product in it.
“You look so handsome this way.” I waited for him to flinch, thinking he might pull away from me. He didn’t. Instead, he leaned into my touch. When I reached his crown, I let my index finger slide against the small patch of exposed skin in the center. “I love this spot, Gray.” My voice was like that of a lovesick child, and I made no attempt to hide the awe coating each word. “I know you think I’m just making fun of you, but I’m not. I love it. Seeing you like this, all grown up. You grew up.” I guided his hand to my heart, letting him feel it race inside my chest. “This is you. You still do this to me, even now. Especially now.”
He brought my hand to his own racing heart. “You too. So, I need you to be more careful, okay? When you called me last night, I thought I was losing you again. I can’t. I wouldn’t make it this time.”
“I’m sorry.” I moved closer to him, nuzzling my face against his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare you, honest.” Lifting the sleeve of his shirt, I brushed my lips against his bare arm. His skin was cool. Too cool for my liking. I would have been remiss in my role of best platonic friend if I didn’t attempt to alleviate his discomfort, so I warmed him with my lips. “I’m really sorry.” My lips moved up and down his arm without pause. Without thought. Without giving a good goddamn about the repercussions. “Sorry. So sorry.”
He cupped the side of my face. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Just stay safe for me.”
“I will. I promise.” Pulling my lips away from him, I stared down at my legs and grinned. I was about three inches away from sitting in his lap. My ass was pressed against his thigh, my legs draping over. So close. We were so close. We’d cuddled in the past, at the lake, in his truck. His touch was nothing new to me. But for some reason, on my mother’s sofa, it felt different. It was what I’d been waiting for. We’d been toeing that line for months. I was tired of that line. Iloathedthat line. I wanted to pressure-wash that line out of existence. So, I took a chance. I moved even closer. Using my hand for support, I lifted myself off of the couch and pivoted onto his lap. I let go of his hand and looped my arms around his back, pressing my face against his neck.
“Comfy?” His arms wrapped around my side, pulling me even closer. I kissed his neck, breathing him as if I was trying to inhale his very essence. The aroma of sandalwood and spice was heavy like he’d bathed in the scent. I wanted to bathe him with my tongue.
“So comfy.” My lips parted again, and this time I ran my tongue against his skin, making him gasp. He tasted like salt and cologne, and even in my state of perpetual hangover, his flavor did things to me. Dreadful things. Delightful things.Lascivious things.“You don’t mind, do you?”
