Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 12

KIAN

“All of the tests came back negative. Is there anything we might have missed?” The nurse asks me over the phone, and I really want to be nice to her, but my patience is extremely thin right now. I’ve only left Mitch’s house once in the past week, and that was to go to the doctor, and now the nurse is telling me they can’t find anything wrong with me.

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the nurse.”

She huffs, and I immediately feel awful. It’s not her fault. But the sore throat, fever, and cough I've had all week has made me miserable. I can hardly eat because my throat is swollen.

“I’m sorry, Kian, the only other thing we can do is run more tests. When are you free to come back in?”

Well, since my boss has graciously let me take off until I've recovered–really it benefits everyone if I’m not there, just in case I’m contagious–I have plenty of free time. “When do you have available?”

“Right now? We can add your appointment because we don’t have anybody in the waiting room.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you," I say as nicely as I can manage, even if talking hurts my throat worse.

Trent is at work. He’s building a fence for some rich person outside of town, so I can’t ask him to leave work and take me to my appointment.

I push myself off the bed, feeling my shirt sticking to my back, and it’s disgusting. I feel like shit, and look like shit, and probably smell like it, too, because I can’t muster the strength to stand up for a very long time. Coupled with trying to survive, standing up to wash my hair sounds horrible and not at all plausible right now.

Slowly, I walk to the open door, propping myself up on the wall to help my weak legs. I can see Mitch sitting on the couch, and he turns my way when he hears me dragging my feet.

“You should be in bed resting. Have you heard back from the doctor?”

“I have to go back… they need to run more tests.”

His face tenses and he stands up. “Let me call Trent, we should probably take you to the hospital.”

I wave him off, because it’s not that serious, for one. And for two, I do not have the kind of money it takes to pay for an emergency room visit. They charge a thousand dollars just to use a stethoscope on you. No thanks.

“Do you mind driving me to the doctor? Don’t call Trent. He’s busy.”

“He won’t be happy that you didn’t let him know.”

I know he won’t be happy, especially since he’s been working on communication, but this is one time it would be better for us to talk about it after the fact. “Let me handle him, okay?” Ignoring Mitch’s side eye, I clear my throat. “And maybe you can handle the doctor. You know how uncomfortable I get.”

???

“We’re going to take a urine test and another mouth swab, and we’re going to include everything in this test. Including sexually transmitted infections,” the nice nurse from earlier tells me while I’m sitting on the bed.

I look at Mitch sitting in the chair beside the bed, waiting for him to say something to the nurse. He just stares at me, so I tip my chin toward the nurse again, keeping my eyes on his.

He huffs out an annoyed breath. “That’s fine,” he says for me, and I smile brightly. At least as brightly as I can while feeling like death rolled up into a burrito and left to rot on the concrete on a hot summer day.

The nurse hands me the cup for my pee sample and helps me off the bed. She walks me to the bathroom door, telling me to leave the sample on the empty shelf above the toilet and she’ll grab it when I’m done.

My body is lethargic, my movements sluggish, as I step into the bathroom. She shuts the door, and I unbutton my pants and push them down to my thighs, sitting my happy ass on the toilet. I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll on social media while I wait for the urge to pee to hit me.

Boring people posting about their lives, boring people showing pictures of their kids, boring people… oh .

Oh.

What do we have here?

I click on the sponsored link and it takes me to a blue and white website. OnlyFans. Hmm… Curiosity. It’s strictly curiosity that has me scrolling up and down the blocked pictures and the non-blocked pictures.

This guy just posts pictures of him partially naked and gets paid for it? That sounds so easy. And he’s attractive too. Blond hair, blue eyes, broad build. Definitely works out.

There’s a knock on the door and a soft voice asks, “Are you okay?”

Oh crap, how long have I just been sitting on the toilet scrolling through this guy’s website?

“Fine. I'll be out in a minute.” I try to force my bladder to release, if only a little bit, so I can get out of here.

Zipping my pants back up, I tuck my phone in the back pocket and leave the pee cup on the shelf, exactly how I was instructed. I begin washing my hands, staring at my reflection as I do so. I look weak, my sunken face showing off my cheekbones and under eye bags.

Ugh , I can't stand to look at myself like this. As soon as I feel better, I'm going to start focusing on making myself look better. Toned arms, broad chest, muscular shoulders, the whole nine yards.

The nurse is waiting for me when I open the door. Together we walk back to the room where Mitch is.

Then the doctor walks in and informs us that we can leave. And that she called in a prescription for an oral wash that should help relieve some of the pain until we get the test results back. “If it is a sexually transmitted infection, it will take a few days for us to have the results. But rest assured, we will call you either way.”