Cammers With Benefits
Page 35
Chapter 18
Tuesday catches a taxi from the restaurant, hugging both of us before promising that she’ll return my clothes later.
“Don’t,” I say. “They look cuter on you anyway.”
She shifts her weight to one hip, looking down at herself. “Good luck guys. Let’s hope I still have a job by the end of the day.”
As the sun blazes over the horizon and life stirs in the city, traffic picking up and birds filling the gaps between honking horns and revving engines, I push the wheelchair-bound Brice towards the hospital. The rhythmic thump-thump of his wheels going over the sections of sidewalk are like the beginning of a song that never quite starts.
Brice is quiet, but I don’t know why. Has the business of the night just taken it out of him? I bend down to get a look at the corner of his face, expecting to find that he’s slumped over, asleep, but his eyes are open and staring straight ahead. That means he’s choosing to remain silent. Perhaps because he doesn’t know what to say. Or maybe he’s just basking in the early morning solitude.
This silence hangs over us until we enter the double doors into the hospital lobby. No one at the front desk gives us a second or even a first glance, so I can at least hope that there hasn’t been a hospital-wide alert put out looking for the escapee Brice. After a short elevator ride with a child much too young to be bald and connected to multiple IVs, we’re on Brice’s floor and only fifteen seconds from the safety of his room. But whereas we managed to go unnoticed in the main hospital lobby, that luck doesn’t hold out here.
“Brice Reeves! Where on earth have you been? And who is this?”
Nurse Ross’s voice no longer carries that Southern charm. She’s transformed into someone who looks like she lost her job as a librarian for being too stern with loud talkers. Bags under her eyes sag with the weight of a sleepless night.
I bite my lips and realize that I should have spent the quiet walk here thinking of an excuse for this exact situation. Instead I spent the time wondering what Brice was thinking and where in the world we’re supposed to go from here. Our lives aren’t even remotely recognizable compared to what they used to be, but somehow we need to pick up the pieces and build something even better than before. Considering these thoughts, there really wasn’t enough room in my head to figure how I was going to explain away the fact that I was wearing nurse’s scrubs when I obviously didn’t belong in them.
Thankfully, Brice comes to my rescue.
“My girlfriend kidnapped me at my request. I didn’t realize it was a crime to leave the hospital.”
Nurse Ross still holds onto her stern demeanor, but the tension keeping her lips tight together loosens, even if just a fraction. “There’s no law, but there is a rule about checking out for more than three hours. Especially considering the condition you’re in. I can tell just by looking at you that you haven’t been hydrating. We’ll need to get you hooked up to an IV right away. You may be feeling better, but your body still needs rest to heal.”
When the nurse finishes this tirade, I don’t wait around to hear if there’s more to come. Instead, I lean my weight forward, holding my breath and hoping this is the end of it. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m back in school being berated by teachers for not completing my homework on time. I only get three steps before that crotchety voice stops me dead once more.
“One more thing. Where did you get those scrubs?”
I can’t exactly admit that we were worried Tuesday would be blamed so we switched clothes in case the security tapes were examined. But there really is no other explanation that would make sense.
None except for one.
“Do you really want to know how we role-play in the bedroom?” Brice asks the older nurse, effectively staining her cheeks an embarrassed rosy red. When the phone rings, she pauses before answering it, as though her brain needs time to reboot. But then she’s reciting a tired welcoming phrase, her voice back to normal and her eyes avoiding us.
With a bit of extra pep in my step, I wheel Brice into the hospital room, and when the door is closed behind us, I slap him on the back of the head. Playfully, of course. “That’s how we role-play?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t hear you coming up with anything better. Plus, it got her off our back.”
“More importantly, it gave me an idea of what we can do now that we’re finally alone.”
Brice’s eyebrows come up in little questioning curves. I then help him hobble into the hospital bed. It’s neither graceful nor easy, but with him putting his weight on his mostly good leg, and me grunting like I’m giving birth, we finally get lying down. Then I take the now empty wheelchair and jam it against the door. It’s not exactly going to keep someone out if they’re really determined, but it will at least give us ample warning before a nurse barges in.
When I straighten up from securing the door, I strike my best sexy pose. There’s no part of me that wishes to look in the mirror and see how bad I really look. My make-up is nonexistent since I never had a chance to apply any before rushing off to the studio that is now probably nothing more than ashes. Not to mention my hair is all out of sorts. It’s been a long time since I woke up yesterday morning, and as much as I would love to just collapse on the bed and fall asleep beside Brice, I’ve caught a second wind, and I’m not about to let it go to waste.
Although I was a cammer for six months, and working professionally for the past two, I’ve never really dipped my toes into role-play. I did plenty of acting, but I was always playing a version of myself. So even though I feel a bit silly saying the next words, I go for it anyway, because if Brice made an excuse of us role-playing, that must mean it was on his mind at some point. Now it’s time for me to be on him.
“It looks like someone hasn’t been following the doctor’s orders.”
Brice’s face blooms into one huge smile, his eyes widening at the thought of what’s about to come. “Oh, so we’re really doing this?”
I saunter across the room, swaying my hips and tilting my head to the side as I pretend to study his chart. “Yes, yes. It says right here that you skipped your physical therapy today. I guess we’re going to have to remedy that right now, aren’t we?”
All Brice can do is nod his head like a silly boy hoping to get his dessert before his dinner. I throw my legs up on the bed and straddle him, but when I put my weight on his legs, his groans are not of pleasure but of pain.
“Oh, shit,” I say in a panic, leaping off him and breaking my sexy nurse character.
“It’s fine.” He rubs at his thigh, groaning with the pressure as I shift my weight off him. I can tell that it is very much not fine.