Sloane
My legs still feel like Jell-O, and damn, it feels amazing to just lie here on my bed and replay every single salacious detail over and over in my mind. I glance at the clock and groan. I have to get up and work on my speech. I’m lucky that they’re even giving me time to promote The Buddy System. And that’s only because of all the positive feedback that the hospital administrators have been receiving from the children’s families. It makes me so incredibly happy to know how much good we’re doing, and I know we can do more if we only had more money. The hospital has been great about providing cash for toys and events we’ve held for the kids, and I’ve used some of my own money, too. Anything to make the kids smile.
But realistically, I can’t exactly bankrupt myself trying to keep this program running, no matter how much I believe in it.
I wish Mom had gotten this kind of support when she was sick. Maybe that’s why I keep pouring so much into it. If my work can help any of the people dealing with cancer…or any horrible disease…it’s worth it. I’d rather do without than see these kids suffer alone. Their families aren’t always able to dedicate twenty-four hours a day to them, and that’s where we fill in the gaps, to make sure they never feel alone or without a shoulder to cry on.
I roll off of my bed, burying my face deep into my Max-scented pillow before my feet actually hit the carpet. I stretch my arms overhead and crack my back. Oh, that feels good. There’s a tiny fluttering sensation in my belly that keeps the smile plastered on my face. I pass my mirror on the way to my closet and my cheeks are still flushed pink. My hair is all sexed-up and I have some stubble scratches on the sides of my face and neck.
Oh God, I hope my dad doesn’t decide to pop over here right now.
A loud knock sends me jumping into the air.
Argh! I hug my arms around my chest, my eyes darting around my room for sweats I can throw on. Nothing! Dammit! Do I have to be so organized all the time?
I yank open my closet and grab an oversized sweatshirt and pull it on. My pajama pants are hanging over a chair so I grab them and stuff my legs into them before running toward the front door.
“Coming!” I jog through the kitchen, stumbling over a corner of an area rug. I land right against the door with a loud thud. Jesus, I’m going to put myself into traction, and the worst part about that would be my inability to have sex with Max for weeks on end.
Lack of sex. That’s what comes to mind. Not a broken bone or cracked skull.
I’m hopeless.
I adjust myself and pull open the door. Please don’t be Dad, please don’t be Dad…
“Good morning!” I let out the breath I’ve been holding when I see Shaye’s bright smile in the doorway. She holds out a hot cup from Starbucks, and I gasp.
“You brought me coffee?”
“Not just any coffee. A grande mocha flat white with two sugars.” She winks. “I love that you use real sugar. It’s so you, you know?”
I furrow my brow and take the cup. “Why would I want to put that other poison into my body?”
“Because it’s fewer calories.” Shaye shakes her head and pushes past me. “While you ponder that, I’m just going to wait in here for you. It’s freezing out! And why do you look like you’ve just woken up?” She sniffs the air and spins around toward me. “Oh Lord. My brother has been here, hasn’t he?”
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “You’re like a bloodhound, you know that?”
She giggles. “I tell Nico he’s totally screwed if he ever tries to cheat on me. With my nose, he’d be dead and buried before he could even take a shower.”
“Think he knew what he was getting into when he snagged you?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “He certainly knows now, doesn’t he?”
I take a sip of the hot drink and let out a moan. “Oh, so good.” I pull her over to the couch and collapse onto it, not wanting to lose the fluttery feeling in my gut.
Shaye sinks down next to me. “Okay, so tell. What’s going on?”
I shrug, but the silly smile never wavers. “I don’t know. He met me after my shift and took me to breakfast.” For a second, my mind drifts from the fork incident to the little sex fest that took place once we got back here. I think I’d prefer to think about that—the bathroom sink, the shower, the bedroom…those places hold much better memories than that diner does.
“Seems like you got way more than food out of the deal,” Shaye says, then smacks a hand to her forehead. “Ah, yep. There’s the mental image I don’t want to see. I can’t have this conversation with you right now. I just ate.”
I giggle and take another sip of my coffee. “Trust me, it’s not like I plan on sharing any details with you. I’ll just keep you guessing, especially about where it happened.” I turn my gaze to the place on the couch where she sits, flashing a mischievous smile, and she springs up from her spot.
“Where you…oh my God, Sloane! Are you serious?”
My giggle turns into full-fledged laughter. “Gotcha! Nothing happened out here. I was just messing with you.”
Her eyes narrow, and she flings a throw pillow at my head. “Please! I’m trying to block those images!”