I lean in, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “You know exactly what I mean. I’m talking forever, Maggie. I’m done pretending this was anything but real.”
She gasps softly as I scoop her up, rolling her on top of me so she straddles my thighs.
“Let’s give this a real shot. No more games. When you get back, you and me, a real date. I’ll take you to Rex’s Rodeo House and show you off like Wylie did to Stevie,” I joke.
She giggles, her face lighting up in that way that makes everything worth it.
I reach for a condom, rolling it down my length then lifting her hips until she’s hovering over me. This time, when we move together, it feels different. It’s never been fake to me, sure, but now she knows how I feel too.
I squeeze her breasts, lean forward, and draw one taut nipple into my lips before biting gently. She squeals, lifts her hips and slides down my length again. And just like that, it feels like no time has passed.
And when she falls apart minutes later, shattering in that beautifully orgasmic way that I know I’ll enjoy the rest of my life, I tell her I love her so that she remembers, no amount of distance between us will change how I feel.
She’s with me for good.
Chapter 35 – Maggie
February?
¿Cuáles son tus planes para esta noche?(What are your plans for tonight?”)
Escuché que el nuevo club ya está abierto. Pensé en ir a echar un vistazo con Mia.(I heard the new club is open. I was thinking about checking that out with Mia.)
¡Los veré a las dos allí a las once!(I’ll meet you two there at eleven!)
My co-instructor and new friend, Christina, gives me a quick nod and wave as we leave the Pilates studio where we’ve been teaching together in between my hospital shifts in the city.
I’ve been living in Madrid for two months now, working at Hospital de Solis y Cía while completing my training in their advanced robotics technology for X-rays. With only three weeks left until I finish, I’ve made the most of my time here—immersing myself in the culture, teaching exercise classes to the locals, and picking up more of the Spanish language.
As I stroll along the cobblestone streets toward my host family’s casa, my phone buzzes with a reminder.
Six-Month Post-Transplant Follow-Up Bloodwork Due
“Ah, shit,” I mutter, changing course and heading straight to the hospital where I work instead.
Sure, the bloodwork could wait a little longer—my doctor back in the States won’t get the results for a few days anyway—but I’ve always taken my health seriously. Besides, I promised both my dad and Clay that I’d stay on top of things while living abroad.
I make my way into the hospital’s lab, waving at my favorite phlebotomist before plopping down in the chair.
“I’ve got some juicy veins for you today,” I joke, offering up my arm with a grin.
Maria smiles in response as she tugs on some rubber gloves and readies her equipment to make the draw.
“Ok, so the orders say we’re doing your post-transplant blood work today. How are you feeling overall?” she asks in Spanish as she cleans a vein on my right arm with the antiseptic wipe, pats it then plunges the needle into it effortlessly.
“I’ve been feeling pretty good. A little more tired and achy than usual, but that’s baseline for me with this condition.”
She nods as she twists off the first vial that’s now full of blood and screws a second in place. “Sounds like me every time I’m pregnant. I’m always super lethargic and achy during the first trimester.”
I laugh, but quickly catch myself, clamping my lips shut. My mind races to the last time I had a period and how I packed menstrual products when I moved here in December but haven’t used them once.
It had to have been...right before Christmas,that I had a period last.
“Whoa. Are you okay?” Maria asks, twisting off a third vial and swapping it for the fourth and final, which is already filling withmy blood.
“I...” I stumble over my words.
This can’t be possible.
