Andy snickered. “I have some ointment we can use if you’ve developed a rash, which can happen sometimes with the medications you’re on.”
Um… Yeah. Private room. No hall windows.
And no Nurse Andy.
Attila the Orderly hit every motherfucking bump on the way from ICU to the private room.
***
“Let’s get this over with.” Lucky glared until Nurse Andy backed off to let Lucky crawl out of bed by himself. The man in hospital scrubs stuck to a target better than the SNB’s finest. A new floor should’ve meant a new nurse, but no.
Lucky wriggled to the edge of the mattress. Oh dear God! Kill him now! Who snuck in while he slept and fucking sawed him in half again?
The nurse did a piss-poor job of hiding a smirk while helping Lucky to the bathroom. Keeping an eye on the clock and his comments to himself, Lucky finished up what he had to do, shuffled back to bed and glared. “Meds. Now.” No please necessary until Bo arrived, and his shift ended at five, so…
The nurse hummed what might have beenBad, Bad Leroy Brownwhile dosing him up, but he didn’t talk. Good. Kept Lucky from having to say things he’d have to apologize for if Bo walked in at the wrong moment.
Maybe he should’ve said please after all, in exchange for information. “How’s my d… the guy I gave my liver to?” Pain meds disabled Lucky’s almost non-existent brain to mouth filter.
“He’s doing fine, and you know good and well I can’t tell you more.”
Damned confidentiality laws. “Do you accept bribes?” Shit. Charlotte needed to get her ass in here and give an update.
“No, but maybe a family member might.” Andy winked and sauntered out of the room.
“Asshole. Iamfamily,” came out on a closing door.
The door reopened. Bo strolled in at precisely five thirty, still dressed for work, the best thing Lucky’d seen all day.
“Hey, nice room! Bet you’re glad to be out of ICU.” Bo pressed his lips to Lucky’s forehead. “How’re you feeling?” The man sure filled out the SNB regulation slacks and golf shirt well. The bag he placed on the side table promised goodies of some form or other, though a good sniff didn’t give away the contents.
And who cared if everyone who’d walked through the door asked the same question? Bo actually gave a shit about the answer. “If I whine and complain, will you kiss it and make it better? And while you’re down there…” Lucky did his best to waggle his brows.
The tight set of Bo’s mouth relaxed into a smile. “If you’re wanting sex, you must be getting better.”
“How can I get better when I’ve always been the best there is?” Winking he could manage. Brow waggling? Not so much. While Bo slipped the wedge pillow beneath his shoulders, he had the perfect opportunity to…
Bo jumped and grabbed his ass. “No pinching.”
“Awww… Why not? I ain’t got nothing else to look forward to all day.” He’d never admit how badly he’d wanted Bo to show up. He hadn’t died—yet—but staying in the hospital freaked him out. He’d been in many hospitals for various reasons without a flinch.
Suddenly realizing he could die and didn’t want to made him open his mouth and say, “Ahh…” at the right times and not bitch too badly about blood pressure readings. He’d had a lot of fun messing with the oxygen reader thingy on his finger until the nurse took his new toy back for bad behavior.
“I brought you something.” Bo reclined in the guest chair, snagged the bag off the table, and opened the sack to reveal—a disk?
“You brought me porn! You know I love you, right?” Lucky batted his eyes, moving the one unhurt part of body.
Bo swatted his shoulder. “No.”
“Ow! Nurse! He’s beating up a patient!”
Bo rolled his eyes upward. “Yup, you’re definitely feeling better. But I’ll save the porn for when you get home. I brought the next best thing.” He slid the disk into the corner DVD player and turned the TV on.
Familiar music quickened Lucky’s pulse. Yay!South Bend Springs! “Why don’t you get up here with me to watch this?”
“Actually, I think I’ll lay in the chair so we’ll both be more comfortable.”
I’d be more comfortable with you in my armsstayed in Lucky’s brain. But any jostling, and he’d scream. And here he’d been worried about dying. He should’ve worried about the fucking pain. Why didn’t someone tell him he’d hurt this much? He kept his mouth shut. Bo didn’t need to worry too. Lucky managed enough for them both. “But I can’t cop feels with you down there,” came out of his mouth.
