“Yeah… just stubbed my toe against the bed.” My current state is not one where it’s safe to let myself wander aimlessly — neither mind or body. Now my toe is throbbing as much as… forget it, I tell myself. I go back to the task at hand with renewed focus. I grab some t-shirts and shorts, and then a few more for good measure that I’ll use for physical therapy.
I stare at the bed, silently cursing it for mocking me, and then rest my eyes on the bedside table. The top drawer… every guy has a top drawer where the Johnny socks reside. I glance at the pack of condoms, toss it in the air and catch it one-handed before shaking my head. The internal debate wages on. Finally, I grab my bag, and shout down the hall to Kat that I’m ready.
Kat is tending to one of my plants when I enter the room. She bends to pluck off dead leaves, her perfect ass on display. I take a deep breath not realizing how audible the sound becomes. Pathetic.
She turns toward me. “It needed some love,” she motions to the plant. I can relate. I feel as if my favorite appendage might wilt and fall off from lack of attention too.
“You ready?”
She walks to the kitchen with a handful of dead leaves, and I watch her sashay away only to be even more appreciative at the sight of her coming back toward me. “Need any help?” she motions to the bag.
I smile. “I’m not a complete invalid.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to imply…”
I can’t seem to get my manhood off my mind, and like an ass I feel the need to prove my point. I drop my bag and without a word look at her. In one sweeping motion, I reach my hand to her petite waist and pull her into me, silencing her with another kiss.
It’s long and slow, meant to last. When I feel her sway slightly off balance, I know that I’ve delivered on my intention. The doctors may have insisted that I have a caregiver for a couple of weeks, but I’m strong enough for certain things. And strong enough to know when to stop. I pull my mouth away, but steady her with a hand on each of her arms.
“I’m feeling better. You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” she says with barely a whisper, her breathing still erratic.
“We better get going. I’ve got physical therapy.” I pick up my bag once more, find my keys, and open the front door for Kat. She walks out, looking back at me once as if to ensure that this is all real, that I’m real and coming with her. If she only knew there was no place I’d rather be.
Chapter Four
Kat
I woke up thinking of Cole and now, although the day was behind me, he remained on my mind. Even though I couldn’t sleep, I rationalized that there were worst things to think about at night. I could be kept awake with worry over a job or something boring and mundane like my taxes or what color to paint my bathroom. At least I try to tell myself that lie. Technically, this isn’t insomnia since I haven’t fallen asleep and then reawakened. I assume that would be worse because it would mean Cole had completely invaded my subconscious.
Yet, given my circumstances, it’s hard not to think of him. Ridiculous, in fact. He’s in the very next room, and yet it might as well be another house. I pick up my phone from my bedside table and stare at it, willing it to buzz with a text. The damn device has been irritatingly silent all afternoon since leaving his house.
With all my might, I pray we are back on track. The thought jars me further awake. If I were a guy, or even a woman secure in making a first move, I would march down the hall, knock on the door… scratch that, I’d open the fucking door… and then he’d invite me into his bed because just the sight of me would be irresistible. Instead, I’m acting like a complete whack job and if Cole were to lay eyes on me at this moment, he would probably Uber himself right back to the hospital for proper care.
I understand that there is a possibility he’s simply fallen asleep. It happens. It’s a normal human function, akin to getting turned on when you think of someone as hot as Cole in the next room, but I digress. What I don’t get is how he could have not texted this afternoon from his physical therapy appointment. I’ve been to physical therapy before. You lie on a table. They put ice packs on you. Sometimes they stick those annoying little electrodes on you so your muscles spasm uncontrollably. But it’s boring and everyone… everyone sits on their phone to pass the time. What was Cole doing during that time? Not sending me tantalizing little texts about how much he missed me or what he thought of our kiss. Not SnapChatting me a cute selfie telling me what else the kiss made him think about. And there’s no way he could have been sleeping during it or he’d certainly be awake now.
I’m back where I started, but with a new resolve to stop being pathetic. I grab my pillow, fluff it once and then turn it over to puff it up again. I lie my head down. Realize a sip of water is in order, and lean toward my nightstand to retrieve it while being careful not to reach for my phone in the process. Most importantly, I’m not going to think of that kiss.
But the memory of it now makes something stir inside me. It started innocently and then grew more passionate with his hand reaching for my rear. It seemed so natural, just like it used to be between us. The two of us embraced, he couldn’t help his hands drifting to more intimate parts, moving from where they held my arms, then to the small of my lower back, then lowering further down. It was a practiced move that almost made it seem as if those hands were programmed, separate from the rest of him. Those hands sent shivers through me like the flip of a light switch.
I know I wasn’t the only one feeling it. He groaned as he reached for my bottom. I can’t guarantee that it was love. Maybe that emotion is gone, but it was lustful, raw, and wanting. With a hand on each cheek, he pulled me into him. We stumbled for the couch and he easily lifted me onto his lap. Things heated up quickly. He felt it. And then, there was that under-his-breath utterance of “Damn.” One word with so much to say. I swear I detected a mixture of lust along with disapproval, as if he were fighting within himself.
Proving the point came his next words. “I have to get to physical therapy.” He spoke them with his mouth against mine before lifting me off him and setting me aside, next to where he sat on the couch. He gave me one last look, confusion weighing on his mind, and stood to leave.
I wasn’t about to argue, or worse yet, beg. Not when we had made “progress” compared to not being together at all. It showed he still wanted me. But, was it really me or just a need? There was a difference.
Desire is physical. Want is often confused with it… a childish desire, in truth. Children pursue their wants while adults decide if it’s the best course of action, carefully weighing their choices. In spite of our age difference, Cole had always been very adult, and damn it, he was showing it now.
Chapter Five
Cole
I couldn’t be more appreciative of the way Kat kept a vigil by my hospital bed, especially considering the way things ended. It had to be hard on her not knowing if what I said about my feelings for her were real or simply what one says when an angry gunman waves his weapon at you. Regardless of what she knew to be true, she stayed by my side. For an entire month she must have wondered what would happen when I woke up, if I awakened. I can’t ignore that devotion, and now, she’s taking care of me in the aftermath.