“Huh?”
I sighed. “Still too early for my innuendos and all around amazing pick up lines, huh?” I swatted her with the pillow. “Get up, Lamb, Wolf’s hungry and I’ve had to pee for like five hours.”
“So why didn’t you go?”
“Because a ninja masquerading as my girlfriend was holding me hostage against my own bed all night.” I nodded to her legs as they intertwined with mine. “Not to mention the fact that her viselike grip was so damn cute I just stayed put.”
“Wes.” She jolted up. “I’m sorry! I’m normally not a—”
“Clinger?” I offered.
There went that eye narrowing again. I wondered if I was losing points by actually being a morning person. I hadn’t taken any drugs yet, mainly because I physically couldn’t move, so I wanted to soak up the happiness while I still wanted to talk to a person rather than my porcelain toilet.
“Don’t you dare start calling me clinger.” She moaned and covered her face with her hands. “Sorry for pinning you to the bed all night.”
I smirked and licked my lips. “Yeah, there are worse ways to go.”
Like the doctor using you as is own version of Operation. Only when he touches the edges you bleed out and your heart stops, no do-overs, no second tries.
“You okay?” Kiersten touched my shoulder. I hadn’t realized I’d zoned out. Clearly the fact that I just got handed my football jersey and was another few weeks closer to surgery was messing with me, not to mention the fact that I kind of wanted to live.
Every reason keeping my feet firmly planted on earth was living and breathing next to me, damn it.
“Stellar,” I sang. “But I still have to use the bathroom so if you could just untangle your long sexy legs from mine, I’d appreciate it. Actually, I’d appreciate it more if you just let me have my way with—”
An exasperated sigh exploded from Kiersten’s lips.
“The toilet,” I finished. “That’s all I ask.”
“Fine.” She laughed and moved fully away from me, probably the most alone and lost I’d felt in years. Irritating to think that one person had that much power over my attitude.
“Why don’t you go get ready in the other bathroom, and we’ll meet downstairs in a bit for some awesome breakfast?”
/>
“Okay.” Kiersten slowly shuffled across the large rug that covered the hardwood floors in my room. “Wes?” She turned.
I stopped, my hand on the doorknob to my connecting bathroom. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” A bright blush stained her cheeks. “For last night. For chasing the monsters away…”
“Anytime. It’s kind of my job to protect you.”
“A job sounds like you’re forced.”
“Nah,” I argued. “Saying it’s my job just means it’s my identity in a way. You know how people go, ‘Hey, I’m Rick. I’m a janitor.’” I smiled. “Now I can say, hey I’m Weston, and I kill monsters on behalf of my very sexy girlfriend so she can sleep at night.”
“Lame.” Her laugh hit me in all the right and wrong places, making the idea of using the restroom a moot point. I wanted to stay pinned, preferably beneath her.
“Nah, heroic.” I argued. “Now, go get ready so we can eat cinnamon rolls.”
Apparently that’s all I needed to say. Her eyes widened, and then she was running down the hall. Good to know she was a fan of breakfast. That could have been a deal breaker right there. I hated it when chicks refused to eat the most important meal of the day. As if they didn’t realize how much it helped. I knew, mainly because my pills ripped my insides to shreds if I didn’t eat.
I closed and locked the door behind me and opened the cupboard under the sink. Fifteen bottles all with my name on them. Hell, I almost wished I was a druggy. You know, one of those guys who stole oxy and morphine to get high.
Right. I never even touched my pain pills. They numbed my senses so much that it wasn’t worth it, and it wasn’t like I was in any pain. My doc said it would help me with the anxiety.
Clearly he’d never heard of exercise. All oxy did was turn me into one of those zombies from Walking Dead, only I was pretty sure I looked more haggard and scary.