She nods, tapping her finger against her chin. “I can find someone.”
And I immediately imagine it’s the douche bag that she was drinking with a few weeks ago.
“Does this mean you’ll explain to me what you were doing the night you came into the emergency room?”
I chuckle as I exit my truck door and walk around to open hers. This time, she waits for me to open it. When she steps out, she wobbles slightly while my hands steady her. “Hey, are you sure you’re alright?”
She nods, her big brown eyes glowing with happiness despite everything. “I’m fine, Clay.”
I hum, weighing whether to press further but knowing we’re already treading on dangerous ground. If anyone sees us now, they’d jump to conclusions at the innocence behind what I’m doing, and I need to get her inside quickly, away from any curious neighbors.
“Come on,” I say, guiding her up the walkway to my ground-floor apartment. Once inside, I toss my keys onto the counter. “I guess I didn’t really need these with an A+ locksmith on hand.”
She smiles sweetly and lets out a soft laugh and yawn before settling onto the couch where she’d slept a few weeks ago.
“You take the bedroom,” I gesture to her, “the sheets aren’t clean but I’d rather you sleep there.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll just sleep out here.”
I shake my head, then without thinking, scoop her up into my arms and carry her towards the back. Her body fits perfectly against mine, but as I glance down at her, I realize this was a colossal mistake. She’s still nearly naked, just in her tiny bikini top, and her shorts are nowhere in sight, swallowed up byher toned thighs. The thin fabric of her bikini brushes against my arms, and the faint scent of chlorine mingles with her intoxicating aroma, making my resolve falter.
I speed up, setting her down on the bed a bit more roughly than intended before turning abruptly to head back to the living room.
“You need anything else?” I toss over my shoulder, trying my best not to look at her but my gaze draws to her frame like a magnet.
She’s propped herself up on her elbows now, watching me with a curious gaze, her head slightly tilted to the side. A single sliver of moonlight spills in from the window illuminating her soft skin, casting shadows that only made her look more irresistible.
“Yeah… May I borrow a shirt?”
I nod, tearing my eyes away from the beautiful picture she makes laying in my bed.
“Take whatever you want. If you need anything, just holler for me.”
I swallow and turn away before she can say another word. Spinning on my heels I close the door behind me and collapse onto the couch. The discomfort of the springs in it feels like a punishment—one I deserve for all the inappropriate thoughts I’ve had about her tonight.
I scrub my hands over my face, trying to shake it off. My ribs ache, my hips are sore, and my firm cock reminds me I won’t be getting any sleep tonight but maybe that’s fitting. This is my penance for every dirty thought I’ve let creep in about Maggie... and I deserve every bit of it.
I slide under the throw blanket draped over the couch, fist my firm shaft, and jerk off to the fantasy of her in my bed. But this time, I’m in there with her and neither of us are sleeping...
Chapter 12 – Maggie
Clay agreed to help me find a hobby for the summer, and for the first time since my diagnosis at sixteen years old, I feel excited about starting a new day.
Well, maybe it’s mostly because I’ve just had the best sleep I’ve gotten all summer, stretched out like a starfish in a bed that smells like him everywhere I roll.
Semantics.
When I was first diagnosed with Lupus, I’d thought that my life was over.
Not to be dramatic, but I was a teenager – and though that wasn’t all that long ago, there’s a stark contrast between the thinking of a sixteen-year-old girl in her sophomore year of high school whose simple interests are boys and sports, and the twenty-year-old woman that I am today who understands there is a lot more to look forward to in life.
It’d been a beautiful spring day when the butterfly rash had first shown up on my arm. I’d thought nothing of it at first. I was an active highschooler and played multiple sports while alsospending time around town exploring the cornfields that dotted our hometown with my friends.
Occasionally we’d stumble across a briar bush or patch of poison ivy and end up with a bad case of scratches and bumps. I’d figured it was an allergic reaction or even an irritation to the new laundry detergent that I’d started to use.
But then the fatigue set in.
Suddenly, any excitement I had about getting out of bed vanished, and my mood plummeted.
