Chapter 26
Bossy – a personality trait Mercy claims to hate. She’s lying.
Mercy
I snuggle into the warmth behind me, and Gibson’s arms tighten around me.
“You’re still here,” I murmur.
He kisses my neck. “I’m still here.”
I glance over my shoulder at him. “What happened? Did you pass out?”
“I didn’t pass out. But you did.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I kick his shin. “I did not pass out.”
“Sure, you didn’t.”
“And you can’t distract me. Why are you still here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I roll my eyes. “Because you don’t enjoy sleeping with women.”
He presses his hard length against my ass. “I think I proved to you how much I enjoy sleeping with women.”
“I don’t mean sex. I mean sleeping, sleeping.” I feign snoring.
“Are you saying I snore?”
He totally snores but I’m done with him distracting me. I roll over to face him.
“Why are you here, Gibson? Here in this bed with me. The morning after.”
He pushes the hair off of my face. “Because this is real, sassy girl. We’re the real deal. This isn’t fake anymore, remember?”
“Good answer. I give it an eight out of ten,” I sass because I can’t handle him being sweet. I’m afraid if he’s any sweeter to me I won’t be falling in love anymore. I will have fallen. And I’m not ready. The risk is too great.
“What do I have to do to get a ten?”
I bite my bottom lip and pretend to contemplate his question.
“Come on, Mercy. Give me a ten.”
He tickles my ribs and I bat him away but he’s determined. He rolls on top of me and I feel his hard length press against my core. I moan. I don’t care how many times he woke me up last night, my body is a slut for this man.
He thrusts against me and since there’s hardly any barrier between us I can feel how hard and hot he is. I wrap my legs around his waist and rub myself against him.
My phone rings and I jolt.
“Saved by the bell,” Gibson mutters before rolling off of me. “Answer your phone. It could be the hospital.”
The hospital? Shit. I forgot about my uncle.
“I can go pick Uncle Mercury up,” I say after I hang up the phone.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t need to drive me.”
“Mercy.” He palms my neck to draw me near and kisses my forehead. “I’m driving you. End of story.”
“Bossy.”
He growls. “You enjoy it when I’m bossy.”
“Whatever,” I grumble since he’s right. Gibson bossy in the bedroom is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.
“Get dressed. I’ll make coffee.”
He jumps out of bed. Stark naked. I watch as he roams around the bedroom. His body is a thing of beauty – all those lean muscles covered in ink.
“What do your tattoos mean?”
I’ve licked those tattoos, followed the outlines with my fingers, but I want to know what they mean. Gibson was too busy moaning to answer my questions about his ink last night.
He puts on his jeans before answering. “I’m not Dylan. There’s no deep meaning to my tattoos. Most of them I got after a night out with Jett.”
He slaps my ass. “Now, get moving. We need to pick up your uncle before he pisses off the entire hospital and gets banned.”
I snort. “You’re delirious if you think he hasn’t already pissed off the entire staff of the hospital.”
Fifteen minutes later we’re driving away from the house.
“I still don’t understand why we’re driving this thing instead of the Charger,” I complain as Gibson drives.
“This is roomier. And easier for Mercury to climb into.”
This being the Hummer Gibson borrowed from Fender. On top of an electric engine, it’s a big block I worry will tip over if we take a corner too fast.
But Gibson’s right. My uncle will have more room in here than the backseat of the Charger. Still. Being responsible is boring.
“I’ll park and meet you in his room,” Gibson says as he pulls up to the entrance of the hospital.
I lean over the console and kiss him. “Thanks.”
I jump out of the car and am nearly at Uncle Mercury’s room when I realize I kissed him in thanks without a second thought. I’m not usually a woman who gives out affection without thinking. What is Gibson doing to me?
“Finally!” Uncle Mercury shouts when I arrive at his room and my worries about Gibson and the possibility he’s a wizard fly out of my mind. “It’s about time you came back to spring me from jail.”
“Did you forget you kicked me out of your room yesterday?”
“I don’t need no one hovering over me.”
“I think you meant to say: Thank you, Mercy, for bringing me to the hospital and waiting while the doctors examined you.”
“Here we are,” a nurse says as she enters the room with a wheelchair.
Mercury scowls at the wheelchair. “I don’t need a wheelchair.”
“You can’t leave the hospital without one.”
“This is some bullshit.”
“Uncle Mercury!” I warn. “Be nice to her. She’s only following the rules.”
“Rules are made to be broken.”
“Right on,” Gibson says as he enters the room.
I scowl at him. “Not helping.”
He shrugs. “Don’t act as if you’re suddenly a rule follower now. I thought you were going to break a tooth with how hard you were grinding your teeth when I slowed down to the speed limit in town.”
The nurse giggles. “I love families.”
I open my mouth to contradict her. To tell her we’re not a family. Gibson isn’t part of our family. But I shut my mouth when I realize I want him to be. I want him to support me and stand behind me when Uncle Mercury is being grumpy.
I want him in my life period. I want to spend my days with him. Grow old with him. Argue with him when we’re old and gray and can barely remember our names.
Welp. I’ve gone and done it. I’ve fallen in love with my guitar man. My heart pounds, sweat beads on my forehead, and my hands shake. This is either the first mile on Heartbreak Highway or the start of something amazing.
I glance over at Gibson who’s laughing with Uncle Mercury. I blow out a breath and let the tension roll off of me. I am not going to start this relationship with worries about what if. I’m in love with Gibson, and I’m giving our relationship my all. No overthinking allowed.
Gibson pushes the wheelchair in front of my uncle. “Your chariot awaits, sir.”
“Don’t need no chariot.”
“Maybe not but you’ve also never been given a ride by a rockstar before.”
I gasp. He’s not supposed to tell the world he’s a rockstar. The hospital will be inundated with press.
The nurse pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry. The entire hospital realized he was the guitarist for Cash the Sinners yesterday.”
My brow furrows. “Does everyone know who Cash the Sinners is?”
Gibson chuckles. “Everyone except you because you have no taste in music.”
I plant my hands on my hips. “There is nothing wrong with country music. You hummed to my music in the car the other day.”
“Because the song reminded me of one of ours.”
“You’re impossible.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “And you love it.”
I do. I also love him. But I bite my tongue and keep the words to myself.
“Whatever,” I mumble. “Are we blowing this popsicle stand or what?”
Everyone’s attention focuses on Uncle Mercury who’s scowling at the wheelchair as if it personally did him wrong.
I sigh and pull my phone out of my pocket. “I guess I’ll contact Basil and let him know I won’t be in today.”
Mercury wags a finger at me. “You are going to work today, young lady.”
I motion to the wheelchair. “I can’t go to work if I’m stuck in the hospital all day because someone is being stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
“And I’m not planning to steal your Dodge Charger.”
Mercury huffs as he lowers himself in the wheelchair. “You don’t have to steal it. It’s yours when I die.”
“I told you. I am not accepting your money.”
“You can’t give it back. I’ll be dead.”
I frown. I don’t want Uncle Mercury to die. I need more time with him. But yesterday showed me how fragile he is. I need to cherish every moment I have with him and stop being angry at Mom for keeping his existence a secret. Easier said than done.
“What the hell’s this thing?” Mercury asks when we reach the Hummer.
I high-five him. “Exactly what I thought.”
Gibson chuckles. “You two are like peas in a pod.”
“I don’t eat peas,” Mercury says.
“And we all know what happens when I eat peas.” Gibson winks at me. I don’t think he’s referring to the green vegetables I added to the pasta.
Mercury tries to stand but he’s still weak from being dehydrated. Gibson frowns before scooping him up and placing him in the backseat.
“I don’t need your help,” Mercury shouts after Gibson as he returns the wheelchair to the hospital.
“Sure, you didn’t!” Gibson shouts back.
“I don’t know if I like your young man,” Mercury grumbles.
I know I don’t like him. I love him. The words still scare the hell out of me but I’ve never let fear stop me before. Why start now?
Gibson climbs into the car and smiles over at me. “Ready?”
Yep. I’m ready for whatever happens next. Fingers crossed it’s not a stop at the Heartbreak Hotel. That place has fleas and the sheets are threadbare.