Memphis stands next to me, facing the toilet like he doesn’t know what to do next. It takes me a moment to muster up the courage to say, “I’m okay now. Thank you.” I hate feeling like a burden.
I watch Memphis head toward the door. He twists the little lock on the knob around and starts to close it, but I call out, “Please don’t lock it.” My voice is a little too loud and a little too shaky, exhibiting the panic in my tone. I don’t like locked rooms. It makes me feel like I’m back at the Netherwood Treatment Center.
“It was mostly from habit. Do you want me to stay?” He sounds perplexed.
“No, just don’t lock it, please.”
“I won’t. I can leave it cracked,” he offers, probably picking up on my panic.
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” I’m trying to convince both of us.Is she really?His voice rings clear in my head, and I have to look away from him because I’m afraid he will somehow know my mind is playing tricks on me. Shame tightens my throat, along with a hefty dose of bewilderment I don’t really understand.
“Waylynn, I’ll be right here if you need anything,” he promises. When he pulls the door closed, I notice it doesn’t latch. He left it cracked because I was uncomfortable.
When I push down the pants the hospital gave me, I let them slide all the way off, being careful not to jostle my leg too much. I’m not putting those things back on, since they smell funny. Hobbling to the sink is easy enough, but moving does cause the ache in my ankle to intensify. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as it was earlier.
“Can I come in?” Memphis taps on the door lightly when the water shuts off.
“Um…” I stall for time so I can get closer to the door. The bedroom is dark, so he probably won’t even know I took the pants off in there.
He steps inside without waiting, and his eyes go down to my bare legs just as I’m looking at his exposed torso. I don’t know how I didn’t notice that before. Holy crap, he’s stunning. He’s not chiseled with muscle, but he’s solid, thick, and sturdy. There’s a thin dark trail of hair below his navel. I have never once thought body hair could be sexy, but it sure as heck is on him. When my eyes dip even farther, I force my gaze back up to his. He’s in a pair of boxers. I was sleeping next to him like that, and I don’t even remember. What a damn shame.
“I don’t like the pants,” I blurt out when we continue to stand there.
“I wasn’t a fan either. Want me to get you something else?”Please say no.He takes a step closer, and I swear his eyes trace over me again in a way that makes me forget all about locked doors, despite just hearing his voice in my head again, proving why they thought I needed to be sealed away.
“No, I’m okay,” I tell him, feeling daring for some reason.
When he continues to approach, I expect him to turn to put me under his shoulder again, but he stops when he’s only inches away from me. I have to tilt my head back so I can see his face. “I’m so sorry.” His hand comes up slowly to cradle my cheek.
“It was an accident—not your fault,” I tell him for what must be the fourth time since we broke the couch.
“I should have been more careful, then I rolled Oz over your leg.” He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand what happened himself.
“Memphis, I don’t blame you for anything. I wouldn’t even take it back if it meant my leg didn’t get hurt. I’ll be fine—I am fine,” I amend.
He lowers his lips to mine in a soft, chaste kiss. “You better quit talking to me like that or I might never leave your bed.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I think I’m still a little loopy from the drugs, because I was not planning on saying that out loud.
Memphis makes a grunting sound, and the heat of his body brushes against mine. The shirt I’m wearing that felt too revealing only seconds ago feels too long now, since it creates a barrier between our skin.
“I’m going to put you back in bed now, sweetness, before I set you on this counter and taste every inch of you.”
I swallow a gulp. The visual he created has me squeezing my thighs together and wondering why that would be a bad idea.
“Because you’re on medication and hurt. I won’t make that worse.”
“Crap, did I ask that out loud? That’s so embarrassing.”
“I promise you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Let’s go.” He moves next to me now so I’m under his shoulder, but I get a thrill when I feel his bulge brush against my stomach as he does it.
“Scoot in,” he instructs when I reach the bed. Oswald is sleeping on his side, facing away from me, with the covers down by his waist. I take a peek under the blankets when I lift them, but it’s too dark to see if he left his pants on with his shirt.
I scoot backward, dragging my bum leg, and the shift of position gives me instant relief from the heavy throbbing.
I curl on my side, and my butt is touching Oswald a little. Again, this seems like an okay thing to do right now as Memphis climbs in bed, facing me. When his arm wraps over my side and he tucks my face deeper into his chest with his palm on the back of my head, I let out a heavy sigh. That calm that sometimes invades me with his touch soothes me, and I fall back to sleep nearly instantly.
* * *
