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“You took Viagra?” Her expression is somewhere between amusement and shock. I bet if I was inside her head, her insecurities lie with: I’m not good enough for him or I don’t turn him on so he resorted to stimulants. It’s nothing like that, but I also don’t feel like explaining myself at this point. Her lips flatten. “Why?”
“Because he told me to.” I point angrily at Bonner, who I might never forgive.
Kelly stares at me, swallows hard and then finally says, “Who’s going to watch the kids?” as she fidgets with the sleeves of her sweatshirt.
I wave my hand to Bonner who’s now on the couch staring at his phone in his hand, completely uninterested in us. “This dude.”
Kelly shifts her weight from one foot to the other. I could be wrong here, but she might be about ready to explode on me. “Noah, we can’t have our neighbor watch them.”
“They’re asleep. What the fuck does it matter?”
“Seriously?” Yep. Kelly sees all kinds of problems with this. “Has he even watched kids?”
“Nope,” Bonner adds, smiling at her with his feet kicked up. “I got this though. They’ll be fine.”
“See? They’ll be fine.” And then I’m out the door and heading to the car. Me and my bleeding, possibly broken, hand.
It takesus about thirty minutes to find the hospital, when it’s down the street. Kelly can’t follow Google Maps for shit. They can tell her to turn left, and she’ll turn right. Every fucking time.
“I can’t believe you took Viagra.”
See? I knew it was going to come to this. I stare out the window. “You can’t believe it or you want to know why?”
Her eyes remain straight ahead, never lifting from the street, but it’s her breathing I notice. It hitches. I hit the nail on the head. “Why?”
“I have no idea. I just did.” Truth is, I didn’t really think it through, as you remember. I just took it and thought to myself, let’s see where this goes from here.
But I don’t tell my wife that. Instead, I deflect and avoid.
“I also can’t believe you are having a porn star’s husband watch our kids,” she seethes. Okay, so first off, I can’t blame her on that one. Second, it’s coming.
“Is that what you were watching when I came in the room? Bonner and his wife?”
“No!” she’s quick to add. “I wasn’t watching him!”
“Sure you weren’t.”
“Noah, knock it off.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe you were watching neighbor porn.”
Just then, she slams on the brakes and the truck jolts to a stop and my hand hits my dick.
My scowl lifts to hers. “You did that on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Yeah, sure she doesn’t.
It’s another hour of sitting next to a guy with back pain, and another one who stuck a cucumber up his ass and lost it. I’m not even joking. He tells me the entire story while Kelly fills out paperwork and texts Bonner every five minutes to check on the kids.
“Why are you covering your lap with a coat?” cucumber guy asks, like it’s any of his goddamn business.
I refuse to answer him and shift in my seat, facing Kelly. “If they don’t call me back soon, I’m going to cut my hand off and maybe it’ll get their attention.”
Kelly doesn’t even look at me as she chews on the end of her pen. At least, I hope it’s her pen and not one from this shithole because guaranteed she’s getting sick if that’s the case. “You’re being dramatic,” she has the nerve to tell me.
My jaw clenches and I bite the inside of my cheek. Never mind she’s completely disregarding the fact that I’m bleeding all over the place. I’ve soaked through the towel I have wrapped around it. I’m not concerned with that. Fuck my hand. What concerns me is that I still have a hard-on. I could whip it out and fuck anything at this point, and here my wife is sucking on the end of the pen like it’s a goddamn dick. Not only that, cucumber guy is watching this entire scene with rapt attention. I shoot him a glare but it does nothing to distract him, so I add, “Stop staring at my wife or you’re going to have more than a cucumber up your ass, ya sick fuck.”