Fuck It (Yama Yama)

Closing his eyes, he lays his head back. “I must be hallucinating. Or dreaming. I’m still knocked out on the operating table.”

“I could see why you’d think so,” Bobby Jo chirps. Turning to me, she advises, “There’s no one around back and his room is near the servant’s entrance.”

Problem solved.

“Hold on,” I tell her.

She’s right. The back of the mansion is deserted except for a groundskeeper working in a flowerbed.

I park and rush to the passenger side to help Simon out. He leans on me and takes short, shuffling steps to the door. It takes us nearly ten minutes to get down the hall to his room and another ten minutes for me to get him undressed and propped up in bed.

“Not at all how I pictured this,” he growls when I pull the sheet over his legs.

“Yeah? What’s different? The dick cake?”

“Funny, Lydia.”

After I get him settled and grab him something to drink, I tell him, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I just want to get cleaned up and grab my laptop so we can watch some movies.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. This isn’t what you came here for. Go hang out with your friends.” He grabs his pill bottle from the nightstand and takes a pain pill.

“You’re hurt. I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back.”

I miss his grumbled response, but something tells me it wasn’t complimentary.

Kasha rushes up to me in the hall. “Everything okay? Is there anything I can do?”

“Actually, if you can grab me an ice pack, that’d be great. I’m going to take a quick shower, then go back to Simon’s room.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Even though I take the world’s fastest shower, I expect Kasha to return before I’m done, but by the time I’m dressed and heading back to Simon’s room, she’s nowhere to be seen.

Until I open Simon’s door.

Kasha sits beside him on the bed, and Roman stands near the window. “Lydia! There you are. I tried to give him the ice pack, but he wouldn’t take it.”

“No,” Simon argues. “You tried to pull the sheet back and apply it yourself. There’s a difference.”

Kasha scoots off the bed and hands me the ice pack. “Well, how many opportunities do you think I’m going to have to see a fractured penis?” She turns to Simon. “Just one peek?”

“No!” Simon and Roman shout at once.

“You two are no fun. If I broke my vagina, I would totally let you see.” Kasha slings her prosthetic arm around my neck, and I eye it suspiciously. I love Kasha, but that arm isn’t to be trusted. “You’d let me see your busted hoo-ha wouldn’t you, Lyd?”

Biting back a giggle, I shake my head. “If I ever injure my vagina, you’ll be my first call. Now get out of here so he can get some rest.”

Kasha flounces to the door as if she’s been insulted, and Roman follows her.

Turning back, he grins at Simon. “Don’t worry, man. If it comes out all twisted you can always do porn like that guy who got his cut off and reattached.”

“Oh my god!” I exclaim. “I didn’t cut it off! Out! Get out!”

Laughing, they close the door behind them, and I lock it.

“Sorry. I told her to bring the ice pack to me, but she’s…”

“Kasha,” he finishes. “I know.”

I hand him the ice pack and watch while he gingerly places it between his legs. “Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“In that case.” I hop onto the bed and snuggle up beside him. “Let’s watch a movie. You can pick.”

Simon dozes off halfway through the movie, and I take a second to stare at him. He’s right about one thing. This isn’t what I signed up for. I don’t mean taking care of him because of his injury. I’m not a total bitch. I mean, I didn’t want to spend a lot of time with him outside of the bedroom. I didn’t want any feelings to ruin a good thing.

That’s the way it always seems to go. Everything is fun and exciting, then someone says I love you and it’s a slow roll down a road that generally leads the guy to another vagina.

Simon’s different, though. I can’t deny that. Every time I look at him, he’s gazing at me. Not once have I caught him ogling other women when he has every right to, not even when we were surrounded by bikini clad bodies on the beach.

Also, he’s the one who wants more. He has from the beginning. The two relationships that ended so badly for me started with me pushing for more, not the guy. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that just because you can get your way doesn’t mean you’ll get what you want. I wanted to be in love, to have a husband who loved me, but it wasn’t meant to be with Anderson. Part of me always knew that, but I thought I could make it work. Like I could make him love me. God, the naiveté.