I grab her hat and place it on the nightstand, then do as she asks. I place a pillow under her right ankle, but wonder if she needs more than that?
“Do you need a pillow fort to keep you from rolling around or do you sleep pretty still?” It’s a legitimate question. My girls sleep like they’re fighting in world war three.
“I can hold still. I’m neverreallyasleep. I’ve always got one eye open.”
Of course she does. Dixie Wilder takes situational awareness to an entirely new level. “Well, if you need help going to the bathroom or anything else just call for me. I’ll be on the couch.” What she doesn’t know is that it’s taking the control of a Tibetan monk to walk out that door.
Chapter Fifteen
It’s not completely dark in this room. The moon is shining through the window. His bed is comfy, that’s for damn sure. I’m used to whatever mattress people will throw in a bunkhouse or on the ground outside with a herd of cattle. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept in anything this nice.
The pain medicine I took with dinner is still in my system, though I know I’ll probably be due for more soon. Doesn’t matter though, I’ll live through the night. I’m tired. I still can’t believe this is where I'm at. Feels like a bad dream. But beggars can’t be choosers, and whether I like it, that’s me right now.
Today was intense. Never in my wildest dreams did I think what happened today was on the menu. But Blaze is alive, I’m okay, and now I just need to get through this so I can settle in and learn my new job. I wiggle my shoulders and take a deep breath as I close my eyes.
He saw my panties. Twice. Damnit. Why did I pick the pink ones?
I usually go with black or navy blue. But it was a combo pack, and I just grabbed what was on top and threw ‘em on. I didn't think anyone would see them but me. I actually like powder pink as a color. I wouldn’t wear it as a frilly top or a bow in my hair—but sue me if I like to wear it as underwear.
My eyes fly open as I clutch the blankets between my legs. I haven’t had a potty dream since I was a kid. But I didn’t want to bother going again before bed.Really, Mother Nature? You’re seriously going to do me dirty like this?
I could try to do it myself but what if I fall? No, I won’t fall! I can do this. There’s bed posts and walls and countertops and that bar thing next to the toilet. I’ll be fine. I’ll hop on my good foot.
I grip the comforter and fling my arm across my body, revealing an elevated right ankle and the rest of me, dressed in my bosses baggy shorts and T-shirt.
It’s a good thing I’m on the left side of the bed, otherwise, getting off would be a lot harder. I use my elbows to push up and sit. I drop my outside leg off the mattress and dangle it toward the floor. With one hand I grip my calf muscle and lift my leg, pulling the pillow out from under it with my opposite hand.
You’re not paralyzed, your leg still functions.I tell myself as I bring it over and off the bed to hang next to my other one. Feeling the pressure in my ankle and I try not to wince at the sensation. I wiggle my bum toward theedge and slowly touch my left foot to the floor to steady myself before putting my full weight on it. I hold on to the headboard to stand. Bending my right knee so my ankle isn’t so close to the floor…I take my first hop.
One. Two. Three.
It sounds on the hardwood floor, but not loud enough to wake anyone. I make it to the bathroom door and reach around the corner to flick the light switch I know is there, then place my hand on the granite countertop and start moving again.
Four. Five. Six.
I’m keeping track of how many hops it takes to distract my brain from the intense pain I suddenly feel with my ankle not elevated. My bladder isn’t thanking me either, surely about to explode with every hop, right here on the bathroom floor. Regret for not asking for help to do thisbeforeI fell asleep is smacking me in the face.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
If I’m good at math, it looks like there’s probably only another three hops left.
Ten. Eleven.
I place my hand on the wall to steady myself for the final hop.
Twelve.
I reach out and grip the stainless steel handle on the wall. I made it, hallelujah praise the lord, I made it and didn’t pee on the floor. But as I lift the toilet seat and start shimmying the basketball shorts off my hips and down my rear, a dark shadow fills the doorway, and I squeal.
“What in hell’s name are you doing, woman?” His voice is so damn deep when he’s mad. It’s borderlineterrifying. His shorts andmypantiesare on the floor, around the foot I’m balancing on, my swollen ankle dangling in the air. The shirt I’m wearing is huge, I hope he can’t see my ass.
“I had to go pee!” I yell back at the man, tall and angry as he moves toward me.
“I told you to call for me if you needed anything. What if you fell? What if you did more than sprain that ankle and actually broke it?” He clenches his fist at his side and growls. “Blondie… god, you are an infuriating woman.”
He stops right in front of me and holds out his hand. I place mine in his and as I do; I notice he’s in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
“You’re naked!” I state loudly as I look him up and down.He’s a fucking titan.
