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I take my piss and wash my hands, afterwards grabbing one of the face wipes Starla has by the sink and drag it over my face.
As I glance in the mirror, I can't help but see how noticeable the dark circles are under my eyes. They're no doubt from the lack of sleep I've been getting.
I'm not sick or anything. Starla and I have been up at all hours of the night, sometimes twice, exploring more about the other's body.
A small smile tugs at my lips as I think about it, knowing she's all mine.
In a way, I wish I did this shit sooner.
I'm not gonna make myself feel bad about it, though. At least we sorted out our feelings and we're giving our relationship a real chance.
I grab the last remaining duffel bag and make my way downstairs, heading into the garage first so I can strap it to my bike.
Starla's already placed her duffel bag down beside my bike, and there are straps placed on top of it.
Damn, I love how she thinks.
I secure both of the bags to my bike and head back in the clubhouse, heading toward the kitchen.
Starla's standing at the counter, assembling sandwiches like she's worked atSubwayfor years.
There's a variety of lunch meats out on the counter in front of her, and she has chopped up onions, tomatoes, and spinach, plus jars of condiments.
Curious, I arch an eyebrow. "Whatcha got there?"
Starla turns with a proud smile, "Black pepper turkey with fresh spinach, ripe tomatoes, and red onion on rye. I put mayo and dijon mustard on those too. I made some ham and Swiss on ciabatta as well, with onions and mayo. I figured we should have a couple of options to choose from."
My stomach growls as I think about biting into one of these sandwiches. "Damn, that sounds so good."
"I'm glad you approve," Starla says with a smile, "I was hoping you'd be happy with that."
"Damn straight I'd be happy with it." I snicker.
Kraken suddenly chimes in from the other side of the kitchen, "If a man isn't happy when his woman's makin' a sandwich for 'em, shoot the ungrateful bastard."
Shit, I didn't even realize he was in here.
Starla laughs and shakes her head in amusement. "I'll make sure to make a note of that."
Starla carefully slides the sandwiches into clear plastic bags, neatly arranging them side by side.
I help her clean up, meticulously putting the lunch meat back in their bags, and placing the rest of the vegetables in Tupperware containers, sliding them in the fridge.
We tell Kraken we'll see him later and make our way into the garage.
The room is dimly lit so I flick on the light switch. As I head further into the garage, Starla turns toward me. "Do you want a sandwich?"
I eagerly nod, "Yes, I'm starving."
I grab one of the black pepper turkey sandwiches and open it up just as she's making a phone call.
She taps the phone, placing it on speaker and I listen. The phone repeatedly rings until a woman finally answers.
Her voice is cheerful, which is calming considering the circumstances. "Mercy General Hospital, how can I help you?"
Starla swallows hard and speaks up, her voice shaking slightly. "Hi, my mother was admitted. She's in room 417. I wanted to call and get an update on how she's doing."
"Certainly," the woman quickly says, "What's your name?"
