Page 54 of Trial and Error

“Patrick? What’s wrong?” I sense the panic in his voice immediately and I watch as he frowns, his eyes darting from left to right as he listens to his step father. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and puts his phone on the arm of the sofa. Elias’s gaze flickers from my body and up to my face, and he looks deflated. “I’ve got to go,” he says gently, giving my ass a squeeze.

“Oh,” I reply quietly, my arms automatically moving to cover myself but he stops me.

Pressing his forehead against my own, he sighs. “Trust me, I’d much rather be here.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Mom’s taken a turn and has been⁠—”

I hop off him before he can finish his sentence and I scramble to find his sweatshirt. “Say less,” I tell him as I pass him his clothes. “She’s way more important than me.”

He stands from the couch and I can’t help but let my eyes drop down to his snug pants. I tilt my head back, groaning slightly, and he chuckles.

“Trust me,” he says as he pulls his sweatshirt on. “I’m just as frustrated as you are, if not more.”

I grab my T-shirt from the floor. “Let me go change my pants and I’ll come with you.”

Elias frowns and starts to shake his head. “No, it’s fine, you don’t have to.”

I step in front of him and hook my fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and pull him into me. I lift my left hand and show him my ring. “We’re in this together, remember?” I say. “Plus, I want to be there for you.”

He wraps his arms around me and sighs. “Okay.” He kisses my forehead and then reaches down and slaps my ass. “Go and get changed. Preferably in something that won’t make my dick harder than it already is. Maybe those penguin pants.”

I laugh at that and push at his chest. “You’re telling me those don’t do it for you?”

Elias rolls his eyes and tilts his head to the side. “Bridget, you could be wearing a burlap sack and I’d still get hard.” I smile. “Now, hurry up. We gotta go.”

elias

Bridget has her fingers intertwined with mine as we walk down the hospital halls to where Patrick sits on a white plastic chair. I pull her along with me and smile to myself as she jogs slightly to catch up. I apologize for walking too fast, and she dismisses it with the wave of her hand.

Patrick looks up from the floor and stands when he sees us approach.

“Elias,” he breathes out and pulls me into a firm hug. He pulls back and then moves over to Bridget, kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you both for coming.”

Bridget gives my hand a squeeze as she looks up at Patrick. “How is she?”

The two of us frown when he sighs and sits back down. “She’s been vomiting since five o’clock. I tried to convince her to come but she refused…and then there was blood coming up and I brought her right away.”

“I didn’t realize that was something that could happen with pancreatic cancer?”

Patrick shrugs. “Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s directly that or just all the stress that’s on her body.”

Subconsciously, I rub my thumb over the ring that circles around Bridget’s finger and walk us over to the other chair and nod toward it. “Sit. We might be here a while.”

She shakes her head and waits until I’m seated before she perches on my lap. Her legs dangle over the other side of mine, and I let out a relaxed sigh when she curls into me. I like being able to hold her when she’s like this—soft and docile. My hand rests on her outer thigh and the feel of her on top of me has me thinking back to our moment at her place.

I sure as shit didn’t expect our conversation to happen, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. The way she felt rolling against me is already tucked away in my mind, like a memory in a scrapbook…and that lingerie? Fuck. That view alone is already ingrained in my retinas, vivid and clear and long enough to last lifetime. Her breathy moans are playing on a loop in my head, and I have to will myself to stop thinking about her like that as I feel my pants grow tighter.

Her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of my neck bring me back to the present and I smile as she shifts in my lap, her cheeks flushed.

Knowing what we did is affecting her as much as it is me, makes me feel great. I need more of you, she said. Knowing she wants more has me grappling with the small amount of control I have; the tendrils of her words come back in waves and I find myself being pulled toward them.

Like a siren’s call.

Of course, I’m glad Patrick called me, but a selfish part of me wishes he hadn’t.

We could be in her bed right now. Tangled up in her sheets, with nothing but a sheen of sweat covering us. Her hair would be fanned across the pillows, one hand in my hair and the other gripping hold of the bars of her bed as I devour her. Her thighs would be spread and shaking before me while I took my time worshipping her in every way imaginable. Short gasps would fill the room as my tongue lapped her up.

God, she would taste like liquid gold—like the morning sun, fresh and warm, and I wouldn’t mind spending a lifetime chasing sunsets if I could be there for the sunrise.