Bianca giggled and I walked off to our shared bathroom. It was small to begin with, but we made it work. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then figured I could bypass a shower and take one after I watched a couple of shows with my best friend. I grabbed my robe off the back of the door and wrapped it around me, its warmth making my eyes close a little too hard. I still couldn't believe I had slept an entire day away.
But what was more amazing was the fact that I felt like I could sleep another one away, too.
I opened my eyes and took a good, hard look at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair was thick. Much thicker than it needed to be. I reached for a hair tie and began piling it on my head, but the band snapped midway through my bun. I tossed it into the trashcan and grabbed another one, but that one broke as well.
“Fuck!”
“Breaking hair ties again?” Bianca called out.
“I’ll be there soon!”
I broke through four more of them before I finally got the bun to stay on my damn head. I took stock of my blue eyes. They looked rested. They sparkled in the dim lighting of our bathroom. But the bags underneath my eyes told a different story. I knew I was going to fall asleep on Bianca’s shoulder. I had no interest in anything having to do with comic books, but her excitement and listening to her explain everything to me was interesting. I enjoyed watching people partake in things they loved. Whether it was music, dance, comics, or making drinks—if they enjoyed it thoroughly, I was always mesmerized by it.
“If you need any more hair ties, you can have mine!” Bianca exclaimed.
I giggled and shook my head as I turned off the light. I went out and flopped down next to my best friend before she promptly handed me a massive mug of coffee. She picked up a plate of cinnamon rolls and set it on my lap, then she struck up a television show I didn’t recognize. It opened with a scene with some guy beating the shit out of someone, and I looked over just in time to see the massive, prideful smile trickle across Bianca’s face.
Listening to her describe who The Punisher was enabled me to forget about everything. Work. The man. How hurt he had been. The day I had slept away. How tired my bones still were. Her ramblings even helped me to forget about my dreams, especially since I had dreamt about him. The guy in the bar with the wound and the thick hair and the dark, stormy eyes. With lips that shivered me to my core and a heat no furnace could replicate.
“Jess? Are you listening? The show’s just about to get good,” Bianca said.
“Of course I’m listening. And if you’d stop talking, I would pay attention to the show,” I said.
“Look, look, look! Watch!”
I turned my head back to the screen, but my mind wasn’t fully there. Because the second those darkened eyes popped into the forefront of my mind, I knew I was a goner. I wondered how he was doing. I wondered if he was okay. If he was alive and well and recuperating like I wanted him to be. It was astounding how taken I had become with a nameless, handsome man.
For all I knew, he was simply passing through. A stranger in the night that was gone by morning. For all I knew, he didn’t give a damn about me. For all I knew, he didn’t even remember me. Traumatized by his wound, maybe his mind hadn’t been creating new memories. Maybe I was thinking about a man who didn’t even remember the color of my eyes.
And it was that thought I clung to in order to keep myself from drowning in the ghost of his musky scent.
FOUR
Lucas
After a return trip to the hospital due to some complications with me busting my stitches, I was released again and heading home. Mom and Dad weren’t too happy that I decided to get out of bed on my own and get to the bathroom, but I was a grown man. I didn’t need my parents helping me take a shit. But after busting three stitches and sucking up some very painful needle invasions, I allowed a little more help from their end until I could get my ass home.
“Here are your discharge papers and how to care for your wound, Mr. Wilder.”
“Lucas, please,” I said.
“You’ll have to be put in a wheelchair and wheeled out. Standard protocol around here. You’re our liability until you get out those doors, so don’t fig
ht your parents this time on getting in one.”
“I understand, Miss…?”
The new nurse shot me a glare and I bit back a chuckle. I guess they all weren’t as friendly as the one I had come to know. Then again, my brothers and I didn’t have the best reputation with all the women in town. I listened to her rattle off how often to change the dressings and how frequently to irrigate the wound, then she handed me my things and my father helped me into the wheelchair.
I tossed my bloodied clothes into a trashcan on the way out.
I spent a few days recuperating at their house. And for all of the independence that had been ripped away from me, I always enjoyed staying there. Not only was the massive Wilder mansion my childhood home, it kept getting updates along the way. An in-ground pool. A hot tub. Saunas in the private ensuite bathrooms. It was a regular stay at a luxury resort whenever we stayed with our parents. I slept on and off for the first few days of my recuperation thanks to the heavy pain medication.
Then, it was time for Sunday family dinner.
“Son?”
“Yeah, Dad?”