Page 35

THIRTY-FIVE

RILEY

Me

Can you do me a favor?

Huddy Boy

What’s up?

Me

Can you ask Madeline what ingredients I should put into a soup for someone who’s not feeling well?

Huddy Boy

Oh, shit. Did you get the bug too?

Me

No. It’s for Lexi.

Huddy Boy

Interesting.

Me

Shut up.

Huddy Boy

Maddie says chicken noodle is always good. You get nutrients with the chicken and veggies.

Lentil soup has protein.

But apparently clear broth-based soups are best? Something about easy digestion and hydration.

Me

Thanks, dude.

Huddy Boy

Happy to help ;)

* * *

I managed to get Lexi to eat a bowl of the soup I threw together, and after forcing her to drink a whole cup of water, color is starting to return to her face. She looks more alive, and when she stretches out on the couch and tosses the remote my way, I finally let myself take a deep breath.

“I might fall asleep,” she says around a yawn, her eyes heavy-lidded and her head resting on an uncomfortable-looking decorative pillow. “Fingers crossed I can keep this soup down.”

“Apparently symptoms typically run from one to three days. If you can get through the next couple of hours without puking, I think you’re going to be in the clear.”

“I don’t remember the last time I felt this shitty. Probably the time I went to my first frat party in college and had way too many tequila shots. I still can’t smell the liquor without having a reaction.”

“Damn. That’s what I was going to give you when you finished your next glass of water.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble. You’re going to have to stick with vodka.”

“Oof,” I say. “That’s my downfall. Guess we’re moving on to bourbon. A good compromise.”

Lexi gives me a smile, and I open up my arms. Her smile stretches to a tired grin and she pivots her body, crawling across the cushions until she settles against my chest.

God.

She feels so fucking right in my arms. The last piece of a puzzle and a key slotting perfectly into a lock. Fresh air on your face and coming home after a long day. I maneuver her shoulders so I can touch her hair, and I start to braid the long pieces that hang down her back.

“How is your first visit to my apartment?” she asks, letting out a sigh when I massage her scalp. “Sorry it’s under the guise of taking care of my sick ass.”

We’ve done all our hooking up at my place or in her hotel room on the road. A dozen times together, and we’ve figured out a routine. The invitation via text. The make-out session then the quick orgasm I get out of her. The easy way she climbs on top of me and rides me like there’s no tomorrow and the quiet moments after when we clean up before going our separate ways.

I didn’t want to push her to see her place, afraid it might seem like I was trying to take a step she didn’t want to take. I’m desperate for a crumb of her attention, and if that means turning my bedroom into a sex cave, so be it.

“It is my first time. My self-guided tour was short, but I can tell it’s nice,” I say with a smile.

There are pieces of her personality woven throughout the entire apartment. There’s the old photos and sports jerseys in glass frames on the walls. Her collection of romance books and the dish towels hanging from her oven, one that says fuck the cook and the other that has if it involves fake smiling, I’m not going stitched on it. A stack of blankets on the arm of the couch and way too many throw pillows.

It’s bright and bold and so perfectly her , and I’m glad she invited me to stay, even if I had to force my way in.

“Are you immune to this awful sickness?” she asks. “It’s impressive half the team is ill and you’re walking around like it’s just another day in the park.”

“Pretty sure my bionic leg can stop any virus. I cheated death once, and now I’m invincible.” I finish the braid and secure it in place with the hair tie on Lexi’s wrist. “And apparently not good at doing hair.”

Lexi touches the back of her head and laughs. “You missed a chunk over here.”

“Don’t question it, Armstrong. Some appreciation would be nice.”

“I’m sorry.” She tilts her chin and looks up at me. She’s fighting a smile, but it doesn’t stop her eyes from crinkling in the corners or from her nose scrunching, and she’s the cutest thing in the whole fucking world. “Thank you very much for being my personal stylist. I’m going to wear it like this to our next game. When I get compliments—and I know I will—I’ll make sure to let everyone know you’re the one who did it.”

“Your sarcasm is top-notch.” I touch her forehead, relieved to find her cooler than she was when I first got here. “If the athletic trainer gig doesn’t work out, you should think about a career in comedy.”

“I’d kill at standup.”

“Only if you don’t talk about my dick.”

“Believe it or not, my life doesn’t revolve around your penis, Riley.”

I laugh and stretch out my leg. My prosthetic has been acting up today. There’s a twinge of phantom pain in my residual limb, and doing laundry, changing sheets, and walking five laps around a grocery store I wasn’t familiar with to find soup ingredients hasn’t helped the ache.

“Mind if I adjust our positions?” I ask, and she frowns.

“You’re not comfortable.”

“That’s not your doing. That’s a drunk driver’s doing.”

“We could go to my bedroom,” she suggests, and when I level her with a serious look that tells her absolutely the fuck not , she rolls her eyes. “To spread out and get comfortable. Calm down. I wasn’t going to jerk you off. The lingering smell of vomit doesn’t really do it for me.”

“Bummer. That’s the only thing that gets me going. This friendship might not work out long-term.”

I stand and bend to pick her up. She tries to protest when I scoop her in my arms, but I’m already heading down the hall. I’m kicking open her bedroom door and setting her on the clean sheets I put on the bed a couple of hours ago.

“Wait.” Lexi frowns and unravels herself from the horde of blankets she brought with her. “Why does it smell so good in here?”

“I lit a candle.” I point to the burned-out jar on her nightstand next to the glass of water I brought in earlier. “I got everything set up in case you wanted to nap.”

“You did that for me?”

“Of course I did.” I run a hand through my hair, unsure of what happens next now that she’s settled. “I can head out. I’m sure you want to get some rest and I?—”

“Will you stay and sleep with me?” she whispers. “Just for a few hours?”

That’s not something we’ve done.

Four orgasms in a row? Check. Slipping a blindfold over her eyes then eating her out? Another check.

But sleeping together without any sex involved? That’s new, but she’s blinking at me with wide eyes, a hopeful expression on her face, and I’m sitting on the edge of the bed before I can think twice.

“Do you mind if I take off my leg?” I ask. “It’s heavy and clunky and I can only sleep on my back when I’m wearing it.”

“Oh, god. Yes. Please. Take off whatever you want,” she hurries to say.

“When I do, I’m not going to be able to get you anything else unless I put it back on. I use my crutches at home to get around at night, and I don’t have that capability here. Is that okay?”

“I can get things for myself. And I can get things for you, if you need them.”

“Just a pillow to rest my weary head.” I yawn, hit with a sudden burst of exhaustion. “All those hours of worrying about you are catching up to me.”

She swats me playfully with her hand. “You didn’t have to worry about me.”

“Yes, I did.” I sigh and give her a long look. “We’re friends. Friends worry about each other.”

I take off my joggers and press the button on my socket, waiting for the air to release. When it’s ready, I let go of the button and the leg pops right off my residual limb. Working the gel liner down and off, I reach forward and rest all the pieces against Lexi’s dresser.

“Sorry. It’s a whole process,” I say.

“Don’t apologize. I’ve seen you take it off at our sessions, but it…” She trails off, and I look back at her. She’s watching me like she’s taking mental notes, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “It feels different when you’re doing it in my room.”

She’s right. It feels intimate, heavy. Something she would see if we got ready for bed together and fell asleep next to each other every night, and fuck do I wish that could be a reality.

“It’s not nice to stare, Lex,” I tease, and she smooths her hand over the sheets next to her.

“I see you and touch you on the treatment table, but I’ve never gotten to have you like this.” Lexi swallows, a bob of her throat that has me moving closer so we’re side by side. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” I murmur, eyes closing when she traces the scars on the right side of my body. “I know it’s ugly and?—”

“You’re beautiful.”

She guides me onto the pillows. The rest of the blankets she’s been using fall from her shoulders. She kisses my cheek then my neck, mouth moving down the front of my shirt and over my briefs. When she gets to the top of my right leg, just at the apex where my body starts to change from Before to After, she kisses there too. A breath rattles out of me and I start to pant as her hands work over my flappy skin where I had a hundred stitches.

Lexi massages my residual limb, and the pain I’ve been holding on to seeps away with every press and push of her touch along the shape of my new body. I groan, not because I’m turned on, but because even I haven’t explored myself this personally. It’s different from the donning and doffing I do when I prep the limb, more thorough with her gentle grazes and the heat of her mouth right on the spot where I lost the leg.

“Thank you for letting me have you like this,” she whispers, and I can’t imagine anyone else having me like this.

Would there be the same care and consideration? The same grace she’s showing me when she fixes my briefs and draws what feels like a heart on my upper thigh?

I doubt it.

“You can have me however you want,” I whisper back to her.

Take my whole fucking heart while you’re at it .

With a final press of her lips, Lexi climbs back up my body. She takes my hands in hers and sighs.

“Thank you for all your help today, Riley. For not only taking care of me, but also making me feel like I could do it by myself if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could.” I cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek. “But thank you for letting me in.”

“This sleeping we’re about to do is an addendum to our agreement.” She yawns and lies next to me. I’m quick to mirror her pose and wrap her in my arms. “A one-time thing.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m serious. It’s a nap. That’s it.”

“Mhm. Just leave a fucking toothbrush at my place next time, Lex.”

“We’ll see,” she says, and knowing it’s not a flat-out no makes it impossible for me to fall asleep.