Page 19 of Clashing

“Don’t read into it. I was a dick to you earlier. I’m making up for it. And there was a box in your bathroom.”

“It’s still sweet.” She lowered the bag to the ground, then hissed and flattened her palm over the heating pad.

“Are you done throwing up?”

“I think so.”

“Did you take something for the pain?”

“You’re being a real mother, you know that?”

“I don’t see the point in letting yourself be in pain.”

“This is my pain on painkillers, Ryker.” She sighed. “This is my normal. PMDD is like PMS but a million times worse. Endometriosis is when the tissue that should shed every month grows where it isn’t supposed to and more than it’s supposed to. And PCOS means I get cysts on my ovaries.”

“Sounds like something out of a horror movie.” My lips twisted downward. “What happens to the cysts?”

“If I’m lucky, they dissolve. If I’m not, they burst, and it hurts like a motherfucker.”

“They burst?” My eyes bugged. “ Inside you?”

“No, I give birth to them, and they burst afterward.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, they burst inside me. That’s why it hurts so much.”

“Is that what happened this time?”

“No.” She adjusted, rotating her hips and wincing as she pulled her knees up. “That happens when I ovulate. You know, so the pain is nice and spread out over the whole month.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered.

“Yep. The extra pain right now is the endometriosis. Fingers crossed it doesn’t keep moving up into my stomach and require surgery.”

I eyed her stomach warily. I liked her body, but I didn’t care for the way it seemed to attack her. “It’s growing into your stomach?”

“Mm-hmm. In the intestines already.”

“Why don’t they take it out?”

“There’s no point unless it threatens my life. My mom had it too, and she did the surgery three times. All three times, it started growing again before she recovered. Unless you get a surgeon that actually knows what they’re doing, it’s not worth it.”

“Why isn’t there a standard?”

“Why, indeed.”

I rubbed gentle circles against her leg. “I’m sorry, sugar. That sounds shitty.”

“It is shitty.” She inhaled sharply, her face contorting in pain. Tucking a pillow between her knees, she rolled onto her side. “You don’t have to stay. Apology accepted.”

“What’re you going to do?”

She gestured to the TV. “This.”

“Watching this boring station is what you’re going to do all night?”

That embarrassed flush returned. “It’s the only one I get.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I stood and crouched beside the TV.

“You have an antenna.” I adjusted the device, and the picture flickered.

As was typical for these things, it had a delicate nature, and I had to keep moving it until it finally calmed down.

I tightened the connection, then tried another station.

“I tried to fix it,” she whined. “No fair. That’s it. You’re teaching me how to do stuff around the house.”

Returning to the couch, I plopped down and draped her legs over me again. An action so natural it startled my spine straight. What the fuck am I doing? This was more relationship-level shit. Yet I couldn’t leave her helpless and in pain. “What do you need to learn for when you have me?”

Why’d I say that? I couldn’t be at her beck and call. But I hated the idea of her never needing me for anything.

“I like being self-sufficient,” she grumbled. “You’re no longer allowed to fix anything without explaining what you’re doing.”

I saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not old yet.”

“Sorry. Yes, sugar baby.”

“Be nice to me.” She pouted. “I’m sick.”

“Fine. Yes, my poor sick Scarlett.”

She shook her head, battling amusement.

I shouldn’t have stayed. But every time she curled up with a whimper, I couldn’t find the motivation. It’s because she’s vulnerable and won’t lock the fucking door, meaning anyone could come up here. She was in no position to defend herself.

So I stayed. Much longer than I should’ve. It only made everything worse because I cracked sarcastic jokes, and she fired retorts back. I knew I was in too deep when she fell asleep, and I couldn’t stop staring. Why did she have to be the whole package?

I laid a blanket from her bed over her, then turned off the TV and locked that goddamn door on my way out. I waited at the stairs until Dan vanished, the creak of the kitchen’s swinging doors informing me the coast was clear.

I settled into my regular seat, and Nick approached. He sat next to me with raised eyebrows.

“What?” I snapped.

“Careful, Ryker. You’re going to get caught.”

“I’m not going to get caught. Besides, it’s over. I’m ending it. I only didn’t because she’s sick.”

“Yeah, I usually go shopping for sick girls I’m about to tell I won’t fuck anymore.”

I glowered. “Fuck off.”

Nick gave me a side-glance with a knowing guffaw that balled my fists. Thankfully, he left, and the crowds died down, so I was able to get more scotch. I normally looked forward to Dan being available to chat for a minute but going behind his back changed that.

Unfortunately for me, he noticed. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t the type to pry, and I left without many questions.

I had to end it with Scarlett. The best time to do it was while I couldn’t fuck her.

So, I returned on Wednesday, figuring after three days she couldn’t be as sick.

Dan took the night off and I’d seen the light in his house on as I drove by.

Without him around, I hurried straight up to her apartment.

I knocked on the door. No answer. Again, I knocked, but the result didn’t change. Maybe she’s not home. I started down the stairs but paused. She would lock it if she wasn’t home, wouldn’t she?

Returning, I tried the door and took a deep breath when I found it unlocked. I sighed and pushed it open. I’d lock it, and if she forgot her keys, too bad. She could ask Dan.

Inside, I found her in the kitchen, cooking. She looked a lot better, given she was standing and swaying her hips. God, please let her still be on her period.

Not only did she not lock the door, she also had headphones in. She wouldn’t notice if anyone snuck in. I flung the door, and it shut with a loud slam , but she didn’t react. That’s it. I couldn’t let this slide.

I tapped her on the shoulder. She squealed and pulled out her headphones, retreating so hard she rammed her lower back into the counter.

“Oh my God.” She placed one hand over her chest, the other rubbing the spot where she hit the counter. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I wonder how. Couldn’t be because your door isn’t fucking locked.”

“God, you’re so bossy.” She wrinkled her nose. “What are you doing here? I’m still riding the crimson wave, but it’s not as bad. The first three days are the worst.”

Thank God. “I need to talk to you, but first, how hard is it to lock a door?”

“ Really? ”

“I entered your apartment without you noticing until I fucking touched you. That doesn’t bother you?”

“No.” She stirred the contents of the pan over the stove. “You come up here all the time. Do you want it to bother me that you came into my apartment?”

“That’s not the fucking point. The point is I could be someone else. A robber or worse.”

“But you’re not, so why are you making such a big deal about it?”

“Because I could’ve been.”

“Yeah, and this building could catch fire, I could shatter my hand and not be able to do art anymore, and someone could break into my truck. Could. You need a chill pill.” She waved her spoon around. “Lots of things could happen. If we worry about that shit all the time, we’d never have any fun.”

“Those are different scenarios. This is basic knowledge to protect yourself from shitty people.”

“Okay, sugar baby. I’m sorry.” Her mocking tone twitched the hand that demanded I spank her raw. She laughed. “You’re seriously a poster child for man opause right now. Stop being so bitchy. Is it that time of the month? Are we synchronized?”

A muscle in my jaw ticked nonstop. “I want you to remember this moment. When your period was the only thing keeping me from making you scream my name until your throat hurts and your ass turns purple. Probably the only time in your life you’ll be thankful you’re on your period.”

“Man.” She exhaled overdramatically. “It’s that sweet talking that gets me every time.”

“Scarlett.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. No one could piss me off like she could. “Would you please lock the fucking door? It’s not that hard, is it?”

“I’m a creature of habit and locking my door isn’t habit.” She lifted a shoulder, and I wanted to scream. More so when she pouted at me. “Aw, are you worried about me?”

“In the same way I’d worry about a child who’s about to stick their finger in a socket.”

“Jeez, Ryker. Lighten up. What are you doing here anyway? What’d you want to talk about?”

She approached and slid her hands up and down my arms. Although my brain recognized she was on her period, my cock did not. I inhaled slowly, reminding myself why I was here.

“I need to talk to you about . . .” I paused, trying to remember the speech I’d prepared, wondering how I could possibly pull it off when her hands were curling around my biceps.

“You seem stressed.” She kissed my cheek and uncrossed my arms. Pressing her body into mine, she rested her cheek on my chest and circled her arms around me. “What’s wrong?”

Fuck. I hadn’t mentally prepared for a hug. I tried to form words, but every word I planned flew out the window with her in my arms. Then she was guiding me to the wall and logic didn’t care what I came to do.

I snatched her wrists when she reached for my belt. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you relax.” Her sultry smile loosened my hold. “And thanking you.”

“Thanking me?” She undid my belt and unbuttoned my jeans, lowered the zipper, and caressed my cock on the way.

She kissed my neck and shoved my jeans down. “For being so sweet the other day.”

Instead of pushing her away like I should’ve, I reveled her full hips in my hands and hauled her closer. “You’re on your period.”

She dropped to her knees, tugging my boxers with her until my cock sprung free. “You’re not.”

Fuck. Confronting her now was supposed to be safe, a time she couldn’t seduce me. Except her hand wrapped around my cock and she licked the tip while staring up at me with those beautiful brown eyes.

“Scarlett,” I groaned. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” She licked the entire length of my cock. “I like to.”

Her lips wrapped around me, and my head thumped against the wall. Half of me wanted to worship her for being so good with that smart mouth, and the other half cursed her as she sucked me deep and eliminated any chance of self-control winning.

Tell her to stop. That would be the right thing to do.

Instead, I grabbed the back of her head and sank deeper.