“You can’t choose me,” I say as soon as the kiss ends.
Eli rubs his lips together and nods slowly. “I won’t. I’ll wait for you to choose me.”
“What?” I rear my head back. “I already made my choice. I chose Roman having his parents back together. I chose Roman’s dad not kissing me like he’d rip off my clothes if he could.”
He grins. And if I wasn’t so relieved to see him not looking at me like I took an axe to his heart, I would be upset that he’s not taking things seriously.
“It wouldn’t be in record breaking time, but don’t fool yourself, Mayhem. I could rip your clothes off and locate your G-spot even with only half of my body working. If a resuscitated corpse can have an orgasm, imagine what I could do with two fully functional hands, my mouth, and a headful of dirty thoughts.”
Well … gulp … damn!
“Can you do me a favor?” he asks.
I shrug. Blind promises aren’t my thing.
“Can you let me recover? Can you give me a few meals with you, maybe a couple cups of coffee, maybe a playdate or two with Roman before you make your decision?”
“I told you—”
He kisses me again.
If I didn’t love his mouth on mine so much, I’d be offended that he keeps cutting me off.
“I won’t change my mind,” I say as I pull away.
He kisses my nose and then my forehead. “Then it won’t hurt to wait until I’m recovered. Besides, you can’t dump me right before the holidays. That’s just cruel.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smiles.
“Whatever. Clearly you don’t know how my brain works. But … you’ll find out.” I climb to my feet.
Eli grabs my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. “Clearly you don’t know how my love works. But … you’ll find out.”
“Where did you plan on sleeping when you showed up uninvited and unannounced?”
“Your bed. I let you sleep in mine. You owe me.”
“My bed is smaller.”
“Then you’ll have to let me hold you so neither one of us falls out.”
“If we zip in, that won’t be an issue, but you put off a lot of body heat, so zipping in could get too hot.”
“Zip in? What are you talking about?”
“I’ll just show you.” I pick up his crutches. “You can lean on me too. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
* * *
Elijah
Dorothy helps me to her bedroom via the bathroom for a quick piss and teeth brushing. I didn’t get a chance to inspect her room as much during my previous time there.
“It’s not a twin bed.”
“No.” She unzips her bed. Not a sleeping bag. Actual decorative sheets and bedspread, all-in-one thing that goes on like a fitted sheet, but it all zips up. “It’s for people who don’t like to make their beds or lose their covers off the side in the middle of the night,” she explains while helping me into bed.
“I’m overdressed for bed.”
Dorothy twists her lips. “Did you bring pajamas?”
“Yes, they’re called underwear, and I already have them on. I just need to remove my shirt and sweatpants.”
“You mean me. You need me to remove them for you.”
“Yes.”
She eases my shirt over my head. “Did Dr. Hathaway do this for you at your house? Undress you?”
“Yes.”
“Humpf.”
“Did you just humpf my answer?”
“No.” She slides my sweatpants down my legs, over my cast, and then pulls off my socks.
“Jealous that someone else has been undressing me?”
“No.” She folds my clothes and sets them on top of my bag. “Do you need extra pillows for your leg?”
“An extra one for my leg would be great.”
She positions a pillow under my leg and zips my side of the bed. Let me repeat … zips my side of the bed.
“I’m going to shower, brush and floss, and take my pills. You good?”
“I’m zipped up in Dorothy Mayhem’s bed. The only way I could be better is if you tied me to it and had your way with me—gently and with utmost caution for my injuries, of course.”
Dorothy returns a blank expression. I think she gets my humor, minus actually finding anything humorous about it. “So you’re good. Okay. I’m going to shower.”
By the time she makes it through her nighttime routine, I start to drift off to sleep.
“I can unzip just the bottom if you need air on your feet.”
I blink open my heavy eyelids, bringing wet-hair Dorothy Mayhem and her oversized Taylor Swift Reputation T-shirt into focus. “To keep my feet from getting claustrophobic in your zipper bed?”
“To allow cool air to your feet to help regulate your body temperature.” She unzips the bottom of the bed. “I can leave it like this or actually let your feet out like this.” Peeling back the bottom covers, she exposes my feet. My good one and the one with just my toes sticking out from a blue cast. So many options and unexpected surprises with the zipper bed. Same goes for Dorothy Mayhem.