When I make it to the living room, it’s the most inviting room I’ve ever seen, and I’ve lived at my parents’ house for more years than I care to admit, even now at my age. I still live at home. It might seem like I should have moved out by now, but with school and being in debt, it’s smart to stay there and pay them rent to get out of debt before accruing even more bills.
The sectional is much like the rest of Drake’s house, huge. It’s a leather sectional with deep seating and pillows, and blankets are scattered everywhere. The rug looks luxurious to scrunch your toes in on a cold winter day, and the television is placed over the fireplace, tying it all in together.
If Drake weren’t acting like such an ass, it would make me want to climb in beside him and cuddle into his firm body. Too bad that when he opens his mouth, it’s usually with nothing I want to hear.
“Hey.” His voice has taken on a different tone, causing me to falter in my steps.
“Hey,” my voice croaks. I’m not wearing my normal scrubs like I do for work. Instead I’m in a slouchy-type long-sleeved shirt, ripped jeans, and flats. Getting cold is in my nature. Even in the dead of summer, my hands and feet are usually always like an iceberg.
“I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’m assuming my friends put you up to this gig?”
“It’s okay. You’re more than likely in pain, and maybe your bedside manners could use some work?” I break the ice. If we’re going to be around each other the entire time, working together, we should at least get along.
He laughs. It’s rich, throaty, and is making my knees freaking weak. “Isn’t it usually the other way around?” His eyebrow arches up.
“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrug my shoulder.
“Anyways, can we call a truce? I wasn’t expecting you, and when you pulled up, it caught me off guard. Those knuckleheads took over everything, including getting me home like I was an invalid. Who knew four grown males could be so overbearing? They’re worse than my own mother.” He holds his pinky out. I tilt my head to the side before saying, “Isn’t that for promises?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to pinky promise you not to be an asshole.” When he says it like that, I place my pinky beside his, and he wraps his own around mine. It might have only been the meeting of our fingers, but it was enough for me to feel the roughness of his skin compared to mine.
“Truce. Are you ready for me to help you into the shower or redress your bandage?” I ask him.
“Fuck, a shower sounds like a slice of heaven,” he all but moans. These knees of mine, they’re going to be in a state of Jell-O for the whole duration of this process. I already know it.
“Well, let’s get you up and your shoulder wrapped. Did they drop off the shower stool already?”
He stands up. “No need. My shower has a built-in bench. I do need my shoulder wrapped though. There’s no way I can do it one handed.” I follow his lead to what I’m assuming is the kitchen, trying to calm my nerves when I know I’ll be touching his skin and waiting on the other side of the door while he’s naked. Yeah, I’m going to really need a shit ton of strength for this.
Five
Drake
I step into the warm shower, hating like hell that I’m feeling weak, and not from the surgery either. That’s to be expected. No, I’m fucking brittle because having Giana’s flowery scent near me while she was wrapping my shoulder had me wanting to move her hair out of the way to scent her, like I’m some kind of beast in heat. Her soft fingers pressing down on my skin to make sure everything was sealed. I can already tell these next few weeks are going to be a boner-inducing nightmare, and what do you know, my bum arm can’t even help me out with jacking off.
I guess it’s time I learn to be ambidextrous. I get my body wet, trying to keep the water from running down my shoulder. This is going to be a fast shower. If I stay in here too much longer, my cock will never go down from its semi-hard start. I grab the soap and scrub what I can, including my hair. There is nothing worse than smelling like hospital, that’s for damn sure. I rinse off, turn the water off, and grab my towel when I hear a knock on the door. Then the knob is twisting, probably partly caused by me because I kicked the laundry hamper while getting out of the shower. Why my mother thought it should be there, I’ll never understand, and why I haven’t moved it is simply dumb on my part.