5. Bethany
Chapter 5
Bethany
R ehab is brutal.
I’ve been here two days and I’m over it. The wonderful people assisting with my recovery aren’t the problem; my overwhelming boredom is. There’s a limit to how much physical therapy a person can take. Leaving hours for me to sit around twiddling my thumbs.
Sitting still has never been my strong suit. I can’t even relax during a movie; I’m always tidying up, grading papers, or tending to my indoor plants. Anything I can do to get up and move. Which is what I cannot do right now because of these damn legs.
The main reason for my rehab stay is so my sister could make a quick trip home. She went to grab her car, make sure she had enough clothes for her extended visit, and keep her fertility doctor’s appointment. She’s given the last one considerable thought; it’s important to her. The bonus now is that the sexy helicopter pilot, Dillon, has offered to be her donor.
Did he still count as a donor when he wanted it to happen the old-fashioned way?
I like Dillon. He’s exactly what Alicia needs. Their budding relationship is key to breaking down her walls. Reopening herself to vulnerability is crucial for her to fully heal. Her ex, Adam, did a number on her confidence—I don’t care what she says. My avoidance of relationships is partly due to him. My father is another—but that’s a story for another day. Why the hell would I want to have a relationship when men like Adam are out there, ready to lure me in and treat me like shit? Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather stay single and have my fun when the need arises. No strings. This way, no one gets hurt.
All I have to do is take a look at Felix and Finn’s dad for confirmation I’d chosen the right path. Why I ever slept with that man is beyond me. I attribute it to a lengthy day of psychology clinical during my path to getting licensed. He approached me. I was horny. We fucked. It lasted about a month. I quickly learned he was a no-good loser and moved on. Unfortunately, two weeks later, I peed on a stick that informed me he’d be a part of my life for the next eighteen years, probably more. Which is why, after I had the two most amazing guys I know, I kindly asked my doctor to tie those damn tubes so I wouldn’t have to go through it again.
Davis is the biggest loser I know. He can’t hold down a job longer than a year before his mouth or his laziness gets him fired. This last time took the cake. The idiot thought it was a good idea to punch his boss in the face after getting what I assume was a fairly accurate review. Not only was he fired on the spot, but he was arrested for assault and is now facing jail time. Serves him right. And while it would’ve been nice to have his help while I was recovering, at the same time, it’s not. Davis isn’t a great influence on the boys. When he shows up to take them for his weekend visitations—which ends up being like once every couple months, instead of every other weekend—they always come back forgetting I don’t tolerate rude behavior.
I don’t regret having the boys, but I didn’t want to have more with another random stranger. And because I knew I would never settle down, because I don’t believe in monogamy or forever, it was my insurance. I like sex too much to just give that up. I just don’t like most men longer than it takes to get them naked and have some fun before I’m ready to send them on their way.
The sound of a throat clearing catches my attention. It’s a fucking good thing I’m seated, because the sight of Nolan in his tight fireman t-shirt and cargo pants would have landed me on my ass.
Or is it my back? I’d gladly let this man put me on my back.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” A deepening frown is accompanied by an eye roll and head shake. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
Turning my wheelchair, I grin at him. “Are you sure? It might make you turn that frown upside down.”
Without a word, his muscular form moves into the room, stopping next to me. “I thought you might be tired of bland, tasteless food, longing for something more exciting.”
Is he the exciting part? If the answer is yes, then he hit that nail on the head. I’m very much longing for whatever he’s offering.
His frown deepens as if he can read my thoughts. “It’s nice outside. I brought you lunch.”
My eyes land on a brown bag with a familiar logo on the front, making my mouth water when he gives it a shake and the scent of cinnamon fills the air. I might skip the meal and demand dessert first.
His hands grab the handles of my chair and the uniqueness of him invades my space, making me inhale deeply while I take it in. I know this means he’s showered recently, and not just because of the faint scent of Irish Spring lurking behind it. He’s the manliest smelling man I know, and it screams to the woman inside me, who unfortunately can’t do shit about it.
Not that I would. We’re neighbors. Will be for a long time.
Flirting with him may be fun, but it’s a bad idea to mix things up. It’s in my nature to tease. There’s no harm in admiring the eye-candy fate placed across the street.
Look, but don’t touch.
Well, except for that one time when he kissed me. We all experience moments of weakness, and I’m chalking that up as one of his. He hasn’t mentioned it since, nor attempted it again. Just stops by every couple of days to check in on me and report on things happening at the house.
“Is this a date?” I raise my hand to give his a gentle pat. “If I’d have known, I’d have primped more, put on something cute instead of this old thing.”
The uncertainty in his eyes has me snickering while fluttering my eyes.
That’s when he grasps that I’m joking and reacts with grunts and mumbles. “Fucking date. Woman, if I were to take you on a date, you’d know it.”
He brought it up, so I have to ask. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
Nolan has issues. And they’re warranted. But it’s been almost three years since his wife passed, and I worry about him. It’s not healthy to live in the past, for him or his girls.
“Can we talk about something else?” If I weren’t looking up at him, I’d have missed the way he flinched at my question. “How was PT?”
I parrot his first question. “Can we talk about something else?”
He pushes me through the automatic doors to the patio and ushers us to a table already set. Well, who knew he was one of those men? Not me.
It has me tilting my head back so I can see him better. “Not a date, you say? You sure about that?”
The black metal table is covered by a tablecloth with a small vase of daisies in the center. Two actual plates are shielded by a clear plastic dome to keep insects at bay.
He pushes my wheelchair to one, locks the wheels, and lifts the dome, revealing a juicy steak, luxurious mashed potatoes, and asparagus coated with parmesan cheese. As soon as he takes his place across from me, he reaches next to him and brings out a bottle of sparkling apple cider, opens it, and then pours it into the glass flute in front of me.
With knife and fork, I cut into the steak; the juices running onto the plate. Shoving it into my mouth, I savor the taste as it melts, chewing the tender meat, before swallowing. Then I make eye contact with him and wait for him to say something.
When he doesn’t, I call him out. “You just whipped this up for no rhyme or reason? Just because you thought I’d be tired of the bland food they serve here? I call bullshit.”
Nolan chews the bite he’s shoved in his mouth and swallows before telling me the truth. “No.”
Stabbing the asparagus, I bring it to my lips and ask, “So this is a date?”
And damn, I nearly moan when the vegetable hits my tongue as the flavor explodes in my mouth.
“It was my turn to cook. We had leftovers. I thought you’d enjoy them.” The way he scoops up his potatoes and angrily shoves them in his mouth tells me he’s lying. “I might’ve set it all aside so it would be fresh. Well, not the potatoes, but the rest of it. They are better cooked fresh. And since I had to stay late to cover for Frank while he took care of personal business, I had time to do it before I stopped by to check on you. Why does everything have to be so complicated with you?”
I give all my attention to my food as we sit in silence and eat for the next ten minutes. The only sound is the clinking of the wind chimes hanging behind us. A pleasant, cool breeze is blowing, a rare occurrence in July.
And once I’ve had all I can of the silence and his moodiness, I say what’s on my mind like I’ve done most of my life. “Someone needs to get laid. You’re so backed up, it’s making you moody. If I weren’t out of commission for the foreseeable future, I’d offer to take one for the team, but I can’t.”
Those sour apple eyes of his dilate as he stares at me. As he leans in and points his knife at my chest, his Adam’s apple bobs while he swallows. “You think sex solves everything? It doesn’t. Getting laid won’t brighten my mood, it will only make me feel worse.”
“Why is that?” the therapist in me asks.
“Because only one woman knew how to brighten my mood, and she fucking died. So, I guess I’m stuck being a cranky son of a bitch for the rest of eternity.”
I’m speechless. All I can do is stare at him, feeling like a complete ass for not considering how his loss has profoundly affected him. Not everyone is like me. There are actually people out there who think sex and relationships go hand in hand.
He drops his silverware and rests his forehead on his palms. “Sorry. You’re probably right. It’s been way too long since I’ve had any action. Juggling between the girls, my sorrow, and work, it hasn’t been a top concern of mine. And the one person I find myself attracted to brings out the worst in me on a good day.”
Wow, talk about a slap in the face.
“Nolan.” With a deep breath, I release the mounting frustration within me. “Look at me, please.”
As he lifts his head and folds his arms, his intense gaze locks onto me. “What?”
“The feeling is mutual.” Then, because I hate how admitting that makes me sound like a silly female with hearts in her damn eyes, I say, “Maybe we should just fuck and get it over with so we can move on.”
We stare at each other. His gaze burns. The sensation is like fire on my skin. The hot intensity a sign he’s ready to engulf me. Each ticking second that goes by it only grows and has goosebumps breaking out all over my body.
A beautiful smile spreads across his face, illuminating his eyes. “Damn my luck. You’re out of commission, remember? Guess I’ll have to wait until you’re not. I’ll get back to you then to see if you’re still up for a night of sweaty sex. Until then, I’m going to have the worst case of blue balls, making my brooding mood even more pronounced. Thanks a lot, Bethany.”
I laugh so hard, tears stream down my face, and my sides ache. “Glad I won’t be suffering alone.”