“Yeah, turns out I feel safer with you beside me.”
Chapter Twelve
KRUGER
The followingdays pass with a surprising ease.
Delphi hasn’t mentioned the letters, though I know she’s read them all at least once. She watches me with curiosity, which I’ll take over indifference any day of the week.
Delphi hasn’t had any more seizures, and slowly but surely, the headaches and migraines have been lessening. Healing is a slow process, but there is quiet strength and resilience in Delphi that I don’t usually see in others. The only thing getting to her now is boredom.
“Alright, I can’t do this anymore. I need to get out. I need fresh air. I need to do something before my brain rots and drips right out of my ear. Well, what’s left of it.” She flops down on the sofa dramatically, making me chuckle.
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“Anything.”
“I could do with stopping in at the office. Want to come see where I work?”
“Can we get ice cream on the way back?”
“Whatever you want.”
She fist pumps the air before holding her hand out to me. “Help me up.”
“Of course, milady,” I joke, keeping it light. Truth be told, she does need the help. When she gets up too quickly, especially from lying down to standing, it leaves her feeling lightheaded and unsteady on her feet. It’s one more thing she’s taking in stride, but I find myself watching her more and more, waiting for the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
I help her to her feet and hold her steady until she nods that she’s good to go. I give her a wink before taking advantage of her happiness and planting a quick kiss on her lips. I pull back before I lose control, and walk up to the bedroom to grab her shoes.
“Sneaky fucker,” she calls out before mumbling, “tenacious too.”
I grin, grab what she needs before jogging back down to the sitting room. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, covering up the bald spot where she had to have part of her hair shaved for surgery.
“Sneakers or sandals?”
“Are we taking the bike?” she asks hesitantly. If I had to guess, it’s because the only bike she’s been on the back of was Snake’s.
“As much as I’d love to, I’m not sure that’s a good idea just yet until we figure out what might trigger you. Having a seizure on the back of a bike is the absolute worst thing that can happen.”
“Truck it is,” she hurries to say.
“I don’t want you to live your life in fear, Delphi. This isn’t that. I just want us to be as prepared as possible. I will take you out on my bike. You can bet your cute fucking ass on that.”
“I’m good with that,” she answers with a small smile.
I lean over her, feeling my cock thicken when her breath hitches. “Friends tell each other shit, right?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Because I’m dying to tell you just how much I want to bend you over my bike and fuck the shit out of you.”
Her mouth drops open, and her cheeks flush, but more from excitement than anything else. I lift my hands and trail my fingers across her collarbone, stopping at the button of her Henley.
“I won’t, because we’re just friends.” I wink at her before pointing at both pairs of shoes on the sofa. “Sneakers or sandals?”
“Sandals,” she whispers somewhat drunkenly.
I grab them, get to my knees in front of her, and lift her leg so her foot is sitting on my thigh. She’s wearing a pair of denim shorts with the purple Henley. Not the kind of cut-off ones we see a lot of around the clubhouse, but fancy ones that hit mid-thigh and look almost like a skirt. They’re a deep indigo blue and make her ass look amazing, though her ass would look amazing in a trash bag, I’m sure.
