Chapter 23
23
VIOLET
“I’m only going to say this once, and then we are never speaking about this again. Okay?”
I suck my lips into my mouth, trying not to laugh, as Lincoln stands facing me, legs spread as wide as a cowboy.
“Okay.” I snort.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Once we leave the hospital parking lot this evening, we never, ever speak about this again and you can’t tell anyone.” He holds the ice pack against his crotch.
“There could be an issue with that. I may have accidentally dropped a group text to Hannah and Ruby.”
“Jesus Christ.” He hisses as he rearranges his dick. “Why the fuck is it still burning like Satan’s anus?” He grits his teeth. “I need a cold bath.” He’s on the verge of crying.
“The nurse said to try dipping it in cold milk when we get home. But it might make the milk taste funny if we do that.” I snort again.
“Oh, isn’t this just hilarious?” He widens his stance. “I have a chili stick for a dick, a superglued forehead, which is going to leave a mark and a mild concussion. Although I’m guessing the real kick in the crotch, and I am sure you find this part even more hysterical, is having two female paramedics find me unconscious with my dick in my hand, bleeding to death on your living-room floor.”
I can’t hold it in any longer. A wild cackle of giggles leaves my throat and I almost pee myself from laughing so hard. I’ve been so good at keeping it together all night.
After a few minutes, I stand up and wipe my eyes with the hem of my tee shirt. The nurse warned me not to touch my eyes or mouth for a good couple of hours.
“Are you finished, Ms. West?”
I put my hands on my hips and tip my head back to try and keep it together. I let out a few breaths and fan my face with my hand to calm me down.
“Continue.” I have to tuck my lips back into my mouth because I keep getting flashbacks of this evening’s events. I think I’m either high off the adrenaline of it all or the chili. It would appear it is quite potent. It could very well be that.
Lincoln continues to hold the ice pack against his crotch. “Repeat after me. I, Violet West.”
“I, Violet West,” I reply, placing my hand over my heart like I’m taking an oath on the witness stand.
“Do solemnly promise.”
“Do solemnly promise.”
“To always wash my hands and brush my teeth after consuming extra-hot chili before giving Lincoln a blow job.”
“To always wash my hands and brush my teeth after consuming extra-hot chili before giving Lincoln a blow job.” I have to cover my mouth with my tee shirt as more giggles threaten to take over.
“You are such a child. ”
“You are such a child.”
“Oh, stop it.”
“Oh, stop it.”
He groans.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” I try to compose myself again. “Let’s just get in the car and go home. It’s been a long night.”
“You know, Ms. West, earlier this evening, I was thinking to myself about how you were slightly older than me and how I thought you were trying to destroy my dick. Mission accomplished. You fucking broke him. I dub thee Violet ‘Dick Destroyer’ West.”
I walk toward him, roaring with laughter, and he continues to tell me off, grumbling about his broken dick and his bruised ego.
Between the laughter and his incessant moaning, I manage to coax him into the car.
I push the start button, and my sports engine purrs. Lincoln rests his head back against the head support. I know it’s been funny and all, but I do have to watch him tonight as he did suffer a head injury. The nurse gave me a leaflet that outlines all the symptoms that need emergent care and what to look out for.
I’m not sure I’m a very good nurse, to be honest. I’m not very levelheaded when it comes to emergency situations of the human kind. Buildings, spreadsheets, and logistics? Yes. A giant Scotsman bleeding on my living-room floor? Nope.
I wasn’t sure what to do first. Put the dog away, call 911, cover him in a blanket, stop the bleeding, resuscitate him? Everything was swirling in my head and I couldn’t think straight.
I’ll never forget the cracking noise when he smacked his head on the coffee table or what followed after. Blood. So much blood. The vision of his vibrant poppy-red color spilling across my stark white marble still makes my stomach churn .
Before the paramedics arrived, I did at least think to cover him up. He was still wedged between the coffee table and the sofa so I couldn’t move him. I tried but he was too heavy. So what could I do? I had to leave him there, unconscious on the floor, cover him up to hide his dick, and press a towel to his head to stop the bleeding.
It’s a clean slice, but he bruises so easily and it turned purple and black in places instantly. The nurse said the redness and swelling around the edges of his cut should reduce over the next couple of days.
I feel so bad.
What a night.
“I’m so sorry, Lincoln.”
“You have so much making up to do,” he grumbles.
“I could kiss your dick again.”
He rolls his head my way as we stop at the traffic light and looks at me as if to say never again , but his eyes are warm and glint with mischief.