Chapter 29
29
F uck. No. Come on, not today.
I hiss as the muscles in my neck seize up, followed by the telltale sharp pain that means I’m fucked. I’m halfway into the dress I was putting on for my night at Blair’s house, the fabric still bunched above my chest after I’d gotten it over my head. When I try to pull it down, my neck screams at me again and I wince, dropping my arms, leaving my stomach and ass out.
“God dammit, now I can’t even put on clothes?” I ask my reflection in my standing mirror, frustrated tears already welling in my eyes. Fat teardrops spill down my cheeks as I blink and grip the back of my neck, and I set off toward the kitchen to grab my heating pad. I know they tell you to do ice at first, but that’s always made things worse for me.
I catch my reflection in the microwave’s chrome exterior and see that there are big black streaks across my cheeks. Great, now my makeup is fucked, too.
Why now? My neck pain hasn’t been bad for almost a week. So much so that I temporarily forgot how much of a bitch my body is.
The times where there’s no warning are the worst. When I’ve been lifting heavy things and looking down at things a lot, then yeah, I understand why my spine might get angry. But when I’ve been careful and have done all of my exercises and self-care techniques and I still end up jacking my neck up trying to put on a damn dress? It’s maddening.
There’s only an hour until sundown, and I still need to pack an overnight bag to leave in my car in case things go well and Blair wants me to stay after our scene. After a few more hesitant, testing turns of my head that result in more sharp pain, I know there’s no way I’m going to be better enough to drive, let alone do whatever kinky things Blair has planned for us.
With more tears spilling down my cheeks, I grab the heat pad and head back to my bedroom, phone in one hand and my neck braced in the other as I lie down flat on the bed. It’s hard to even do that, because it fucking hurts. I know when I try to get back up, it’ll take all my mental fortitude to face the pain of moving.
I lift my phone up to my face, and at least that doesn’t hurt to do. Gotta take the small wins. I know from experience that one of the few things I can do while I’m incapacitated like this is hold my phone to read. Not a book or an e-reader, though. Too heavy. And texting is pushing it because of the way it positions my arms, so as much as I hate calling people, it’s the better option right now.
Dammit. I don’t want Blair to hear me crying over not being able to make it. It’s too pathetic. I take a minute to gather myself so at least I’m not actively shedding tears when I press the call button and take a deep, shaky breath as it rings.
Blair answers after three rings. “Grace? What’s wrong?” Her voice is slightly hoarse.
“Crap, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Don’t be sorry. You can call me any time. Are you okay?” A hint of panic is evident in her question.
There’s a pang in my chest knowing that she cares that much, and it makes the guilt that I’m having to call at all even worse because I don’t like that I’ve made her worry. “Uh, yes and no. I’m in no imminent danger or anything like that. But I can’t come over tonight.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Those two words are even and emotionless, a stark contrast to the undisguised concern from a moment ago. If I didn’t know Blair, I’d think she didn’t care at all. But the detachment is so practiced that it sets off alarm bells in my head and I scramble to explain before she builds her walls back up.
“I hurt my neck!” I blurt. “I was getting ready to come over and my stupid piece of shit spine decided that halfway into my dress was the perfect time to show its displeasure with me. I won’t be able to drive over.”
I leave it at that. It’s too vulnerable to admit that I’m currently immobile on my bed, unable to move my head at all without pain.
“I’ll come over there,” Blair says, concern bleeding back into her voice.
My place is a disaster zone right now. The thought of her seeing me in my natural habitat with no ability to make it more presentable makes me panic. “You don’t have to do that! I won’t be up to doing, uh, anything, so I don’t want you to waste your evening on me.”
Blair scoffs. “I don’t give a shit about if we do anything. Please let me come over and make sure you’re okay.”
“My place is a mess. I’m a mess. You don’t need to…” I trail off as annoying tears fill my eyes.
“Grace.” The way Blair says my name is a reassuring caress. “I won’t come over if you’d rather not see me, but your messy house or appearance isn’t a reason not to let me check on you.”
A tear runs down my cheek. I’ve always dealt with my pain on my own. I hate the thought of being a burden. When my neck pain first started, I didn’t tell my ex-husband because I didn’t want to add to his list of reasons why I was defective. Who wants to be with someone who can’t do things as simple as putting on clothes?
“I don’t want you to be alone,” Blair adds when I say nothing. I’d brush it off if I sensed any pity in her tone, but all I can hear is genuine care.
I really shouldn’t let her see me like this, but god, it would be nice to not suffer alone for once.
“O-okay,” I say, hating the way my voice breaks.
“Okay,” Blair repeats. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you need me to bring anything with me? I was going to make you dinner at my place, but I can bring the ingredients with me if you feel up to eating.”
“You… you were going to cook for me?” I ask, stunned by the idea. I don’t think anyone I’ve dated—not that I’m even sure that’s what we’re doing—has cooked me dinner. Even when I was married, it was a fight to get Zack to help with our meals.
“Yeah. It’s been a while, but I doubt I’ve forgotten how to use a stove. ”
A small smile twists my lips. “Well, that’s good, because I may have. I’m terrible about cooking myself actual meals.”
“All the more reason for me to cook for you,” she says, matter-of-fact.
“That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think you’re going to want to stay that long once you see the state of my place and find out how pathetic and boring I am right now.”
“I don’t expect you to entertain or impress me,” Blair says evenly. “If I want to leave, I will. But I’ve been waiting all week to see you again and I frankly don’t give a shit what that entails.”
Butterflies kick up in my stomach, and my smile widens. “Okay, okay. Come over and make me dinner. Maybe do some laundry while you’re at it,” I add with a laugh.
“Sure,” Blair replies.
“Wait, what?” I squeak. “No! It’s a joke.”
Blair chuckles at my alarm. “We’ll see. I’m going to hang up so I can get ready to leave once the sun goes down. Don’t try to get up and hurt yourself more.”
“But the door is locked. And I need to get dressed.”
“Can you do either of those things right now without it causing more pain?” Blair asks.
“No, but?—”
“Stay where you are. I’ll figure it out.”
I’d protest more, but my neck chooses that moment to throb with pain as I dare to move my head a miniscule amount. “Alright.”
“Be there soon,” Blair says, then hangs up.
I can’t decide if I want to groan with embarrassment that the woman I’m hardcore crushing on is about to see me at my lowest or squeal with delight that she’s so damn sweet. I settle for sighing and closing my eyes, willing the heat pad to work some magic so I can get up and make myself presentable before Blair gets here.
A soft touch on my arm and the slight dip of the mattress rouses me from my unintentional nap. My eyes blink open in confusion and alarm, and I wince as my reflexive movement to swat away what’s waking me up sends pain shooting through my neck.
“Whoa, hey, it’s me,” Blair says, her cool palm resting atop my shoulder.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I say groggily.
Her face comes into focus and I can’t help smiling. Blair’s makeup is as polished as always, the crimson of her lipstick set off beautifully against her rich brown complexion, and her winged eyes taking on a reddish hue in the dark of my bedroom.
“You’re so pretty,” I murmur, not meaning to say the thought aloud, but pleased when I see her lips twist into a smile.
“So are you.”
My heart flutters until I realize that I’ve still got my dress bunched up around my tits, too pathetic to have even pulled a blanket up to cover myself up. “Yeah, I’m really killing it with my whole pooh bear look,” I say with a weak laugh.
“I have no complaints.” Blair drops her eyes to look at my exposed tummy and underwear before meeting my gaze again with a hint of a smirk.
I flush, glad for the relative darkness of the room. “Noted.”
Hating that I’m laying here instead of getting up to greet her, I roll onto my side, and cradle the back of my neck with one hand to prepare myself for the arduous task of sitting up.
“Can I help?” Blair asks, brow pinching.
“I don’t think so. Just gotta psych myself up for it.” I inhale deeply and push up with my free arm, grimacing through the pain as I bring myself up to a seated position.
“It’s bad.” She says it as an assessment, not a question.
“Um, yeah. It’s not great right now.” My eyes lower, unable to meet hers as embarrassment overtakes me. I feel the urge to wave off my feeble state, even though it’s impossible when I’m in this much pain.
The furrow between Blair’s brows deepens as she reaches out to rest her hand on my thigh. “Do you have anything you can take for it?”
I sigh and give her a sheepish look. “Yeah. I should’ve taken my muscle relaxer before I decided to lay down, but my brain doesn’t work well when I feel like this. It won’t help with the pain much, but it will at least tell my muscles to stop freaking out.”
“I’ll go get it for you. Tell me where it is.” Blair shifts to get up but then freezes in place, a hesitant expression filling her face. “Unless…”
“What?” I’m confused by her hesitation.
She shakes her head. “You said no before, and I don’t want to pressure you.”
I still don’t know what she’s talking about, and when she sees the blank look on my face, she explains. “My blood. It could help with the pain.”
“Oh! Right.”
Blair gives me a weird look. “You didn’t remember that?”
“Shit, I’m sorry I forgot. That night was so intense, and you told me about your past right after that, and…” My words falter as shame about not remembering something makes my skin prickle. “Like I said, the pain makes my brain a little wonky sometimes. That, and the ADHD.” I try to laugh, but it sounds forced .
Blair grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Hey. I’m not upset you forgot. It surprised me, but not in a bad way.”
“Oh. Of course.” Great, now I’m embarrassed that I got embarrassed. I force myself to push past it with a smile.
“I’m only offering because I want you to have the option. My blood won’t magically cure the degeneration of your spine, but it can provide some relief. If you want it. It’s alright if you don’t. I don’t want to ‘fix’ you, Grace. You’re perfect the way you are.”
“Hah! So perfect I can’t even get dressed without hurting myself,” I say, the compliment making me squirm. Blair doesn’t seem the type to lie about that to make me feel better, but I can’t understand how the hell she’d feel that way now that she’s seen me like this.
Blair surprises me when she snorts at my reaction. “Okay, maybe not perfect. You know what I mean. Yes, I’d love to help you not be in as much pain because I care about you. But I’m not offering because I think your neck issues are a burden.”
How does she know what to say to quiet the voice inside me that had that exact worry?
“That means so much to me. And I…” I hesitate, unsure of what to do. Resisting the offer of something that could help me feel better was much easier when it wasn’t so acute. I don’t want her to think I’m using her, but fuck, it’d be nice to get some relief. “Is it addictive?”
“You won’t suffer from withdrawal or negative side-effects if you stop using my blood, but it’s potent. I don’t suffer from chronic pain, so I’m not sure how hard it would be to stop taking something that was helping you. If you’d rather not risk becoming reliant on me for that, I understand. But if it helps, my blood is yours, no matter what happens between us. I won’t withhold it if this…” Blair gestures between us. “Doesn’t end up working out.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I protest.
She shakes her head. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not. I’m offering.”
You’d think I’d leap at the chance to get rid of my pain. Who would voluntarily stay like this when it could be avoided? Nevertheless, it feels like a monumental decision. If I take Blair’s blood, she’ll be obligated to take care of me, and no matter what she says now about not minding, it will become a burden if things don’t work out between us. It comes down to if I think I’ll be strong enough to face this pain again if she’s not a part of my life.
For once, I trust in myself to weather that if the time comes. Either that or I’m delusional and worn down from the pain, but I’ll pretend like it’s me knowing my own strength.
“Alright. Yes. Please. I’d like to try it.” I search Blair’s face for any sign of if that was the right decision or not, but she keeps her expression infuriatingly even.
“Okay. Do you have any straws?”
My brow furrows at her non sequitur. “Why? Am I going to poke one into you like a juice box?”
Blair laughs and shakes her head. “I figured I’d mix some of my blood into a drink for you so you won’t taste it as much, and I don’t know if it’s hard for you to drink from a glass right now.”
“Can’t I just, uh, drink it from you?” I ask hesitantly, unsure if there’s a reason she’d rather I not do something that intimate.
Heat flashes in her eyes, and when she smiles, her fangs have emerged. “I would love for you to drink from me, but I’m worried that might make me too… excited. I don’t want to risk fighting the urge to bite you.”
“Oh.” A furious blush spreads across my cheeks at the memory of how her teeth sinking into my thighs made me come. I haven’t worked up the courage to ask her if that’s a general effect of being bitten by a vampire. If it’s not, then it means I’ve discovered a new, very specific kink. “I, um, I wouldn’t mind if you did. I’ve heard orgasms are good for pain relief.”
Blair licks her lips, her eyes falling to my throat. My pulse quickens as tension rises in the air between us. I may be in pain whenever I move my neck, but I’d have to be dead to not experience a surge of arousal from the way she’s staring.
After a few seconds, she clears her throat and shakes her head. “Let’s stick with a blood cocktail to begin with. If you’re feeling up to it after, then we can see if my bite provides any additional relief.”