Creamed

Never worry about anything again… Remember?

I recall the number of times Fox has told me already.

It’s almost like he’s planned to keep me, and long before they asked if I had someone to call or actually get me home.

And what would I do then if I was all on my own, in my own apartment?

The thought makes me fret out of habit, but Foxx’s sure hand lands on mine before he orders me back to sleep telling me I might need to pick up a toothbrush on the way home.

Wherever ‘home’ is from now on.

I try to stay awake, to watch him watching me as he settles back into a chair that looks comically small for a man his size.

“Sleep,” he orders me again, but in such a smooth, knowing way, it’s easy to feel sleepy because with him so close, I feel so safe.

Safer than I’ve ever felt in my whole life.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up again,” is the last thing I hear him say before I’m dreaming of him instead.

True to his word, when I open my eyes, he’s the first thing I see, and his crease of a smile as he shifts uncomfortably in the seat proves he’s a man of his word.

He’s pretty chipper for someone who sat in the same chair all night. More than I feel, and it shows. If it wasn’t for Foxx, I’d probably try to go back to sleep.

Mornings aren’t my best time.

But there’s something mischievous in him, and everything from yesterday and last night comes back to me.

“You’ll be going home today,” he says, sounding more like a doctor until his smile returns.

“You’ve done so much already, Foxx,” I tell him, still unsure if he meant to take me home to my place or his.

In the cold light of morning, it feels like I’m hesitant about both, but for different reasons.

If he saw where I actually live, I know I’d just die.

But if he wants me to go back to his house, stay with him until I recover, then…

“Mandy? You do wanna go home, don’t you?” he asks, looking puzzled.

“To my apartment, you mean?” I ask.

I have to, and from the look that passes over his face, I feel bad as soon as I’ve said it.

“I meant what I said, Mandy,” he rasps, looking impatient. Glancing to the empty doorway and speaking in a low, deep tone, he spells it out once and for all.

“You. Me. My home. Our home.” That’s all he needs to say.

I shiver again. It’s such a new feeling, I don’t know how to interpret it fully yet, but I know it’s good. It’s the best feeling. But nothing good really ever happened to me, ever. So I figure I’m entitled to a little hesitancy.

That, and the other thing…? The thing you should really tell him. He’s a doctor. He’ll understand.

“Mandy?” he rasps again, closer to the bed now and breaking my insecure ‘never had a real man in her life’ thoughts.

“I… I mean… Sure,” I sigh, relieved when it’s the one thing that makes him smile again.

And feeling my own, I tell myself I’d better get used to this feeling because something tells me that Foxx is only getting started when it comes to me.

His cream and sugar. He literally called me that in front of other people…

It’s still barely light outside, the thin curtains of the hospital room showing pre-dawn light, but it doesn’t stop the machine of hospital administration.

As soon as I’m checked over one last time by the doctor, with Foxx lurking over his shoulder the whole time, I’m told how to stay off my ankle and to get my things together because I’m going home.

The only ‘things’ I’ve got are my phone and the clothes I had on when I came in, which are folded neatly in a plastic bag by my bed.

“How… How am I gonna?” I wonder aloud, looking from the bag of clothes to Foxx and then to the suddenly empty corridor outside.

“I can help you,” Foxx says, but he’s beaten to it when a nurse that’s as wide and mean-looking as he is tall and handsome struts in.

“Right,” she announces. “We’re giving you the bum’s rush, Mandy, but we kinda need this bed right now. So….”

She shoots Foxx a look that says she’ll take no nonsense from anyone right now and chuckling to himself with both hands raised in surrender he settles himself in a chair on the other side of the curtain as it’s swished across.

My ankle is still horribly swollen, more than the usual puffy ankles I have naturally.

And it hurts like hell when I’m helped out of the gown I got in the ER and back into my regular clothes.

Thank god for elastic pants, is all I can say.

My shoes, on the other hand?