Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

“How do you know what kind of mix she is?” Carmichael asked as she walked away, Lion close on her heels. “And when did you get her?”

“I found her outside the office a couple of weeks ago. And I had one of those dog DNA tests done on her because I was curious what the fuck she was. When I first found her, she had straight hair. Now it’s curly as fuck,” I answered as I shuffled toward the couch.

Before I got there, though, I hesitated. “I need to take a shower. Can you…”

“Listen for you in case you fall?” she asked pleasantly from my back door.

I nodded once. “Yeah, that.”

“I’ll be in your room waiting. Make sure you take some clothes into the bathroom with you. If you need help, scream.” She winked.

I would.

Maybe.

Hopefully I didn’t have to, though.

As I shuffled up the stairs, taking a break on the fourth and the eighth, I thought about how I felt to have her in my house.

It felt… surreal.

Like it shouldn’t be happening.

Was this my life? Was that all it took to get her here? Me being shot?

Maybe I should straight-up ask her.

Thinking that made me smile as I headed into my room.

Luckily the scrub pants came off a lot easier than they went on, and I was in the shower moments later, washing off the blood and grime from the parking lot.

I washed carefully, keeping my arm elevated and out of the water.

Using one hand to wash your body was tough. Unfortunately, it was my dominant hand that was compromised and that made it just a little bit harder to clean up with my right hand.

Once I was done, I got out and dried off with the towel that I’d dropped onto the floor this morning.

I would have to beg my sister to come over and do laundry when she got back.

I was in desperate need yesterday. By the time she got back I would be on day two of wearing some of my sweats.

It’d cost me a babysitting day or two, but she’d do it without too much complaint.

After finding my one single pair of clean sweatpants, an old pair that fit a little snugly and probably should’ve been tossed when I started to really do CrossFit full time, I headed back downstairs.

No longer wary but bone fucking tired.

I was just plopping down onto the couch, planning to stay there for a while, when the doorbell rang.

I groaned and tensed my abs, ready to get back up, when Carmichael came rushing into the room from the laundry room with Lion close on her heels.

“That’s Chinese food delivery,” she said as she hurried toward the door, a fifty-dollar bill in her hand. “Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this from your wallet. I don’t have any cash, and that’s all they accept.”

I lifted my hand and waved it forgivingly. “Nope. Use away.”

Chinese food actually sounded heavenly.

I hadn’t had it in quite a long time.

In fact, I had no doubt in my mind that I’d be gaining ten pounds tonight thanks to all the water weight.

It didn’t matter, though.

It wasn’t like I’d be making it to my competition I had planned in a few weekends anyway.

I doubt I’d even be released to work out by then.

I watched the door closely, my eyes on the delivery driver, when the thought of ‘oh shit, what if they followed me home?’ occurred to me.

I stood up and painfully made my way toward the door.

When I got there, the young Chinese delivery driver looked up at me with a grin as wide as Texas.

Her eyes slid down the length of my body, and she blinked owlishly.

“You want more fortune cookies?” she asked, holding them out to me.

I reached forward and pulled two extras from her hand, causing her to smile.

“Thank you,” Carmichael said, sounding a little miffed.

I frowned at her, but over their heads, I scanned the road, and was thankful when I spotted a cruiser parked across the street in Carmichael’s driveway.

Knowing that she was protected, I went back to the couch and once again collapsed into it, this time promising myself I wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

With my eyes closed and my head resting on the back of the couch, I blindly opened my fortune cookie, being careful not to jar my arm, and pulled the fortune out.

Tossing it onto the table next to the couch, I popped the entire cookie into my mouth and crunched hard, moaning at the taste.

I loved fortune cookies.

Like seriously, if I could have a box of only fortune cookies, they’d all be fucking gone in a heartbeat.

“I can’t believe you like those.” I felt her leaning over me, her shirt brushing my arm. “Did you read your fortune?”

I shook my head. “I’m too tired to open my eyes.”