Chapter 6 #3
She squinted, perplexed by the question. What did she wish she were wearing? Nothing, because her entire body felt in danger of combusting if those smoldering eyes stayed on her any longer.
“Umm…” Felicity looked down. Oh right. She was wearing a heated neck wrap. That’s why her chest was so warm. It wasn’t about his eyes or his hard chest or his hands that would probably feel amazing on her tits—
“Felicity?”
“It’s a thing. Gets me hot. Heats me. You know what I mean?” she said, breathless, holding her mouth shut with her teeth to avoid any more of the word vomiting that always seemed to happen to her whenever she took these medications or was stressed.
He fingered the edge of her rice heating pad. “It’s leaking.”
God, it wasn’t the only thing. “Sshhittt. Must have caught it on something…” The words were more slurred than they had been before.
“It gets me hot. I mean, my neck and back hot. I mean, its heat helps me get hot. Like in my sore places. I have a lot of tension. Muscle tension, I mean. Not any other type of tension.”
Would she gladly trade places with the dead plant right now if it would get her out of this conversation?
Probably.
“Aha. Well, it’s cute. I like the unicorn pattern.” He smiled. “So, how drunk are you? And do you always slaughter plants when you’re drunk, or did that one wrong you in some way?”
“I’m not drunnnnk,” Felicity said, sounding very drunk.
“Okay.”
Felicity harrumphed. Had she imagined the heat in his voice before? Her voice was indignant and squeaky despite the drugs. “And I didn’t slaughter him. He was mostly dead already. Poor guy.” Her mouth trembled again.
“If this is a euthanasia situation, throwing his remains off the stairs and breaking his pot might have been, please pardon the pun, overkill.” The wind picked up, making the wind chimes clang and muffling his low rumbling laughter.
“So … Ms. Not-at-All Drunk, can I help you inside, or are you going to imply I have nefarious intentions again if I step foot into your place?”
“I take stuff from a doctor…” Her body felt like it resembled Jabba the Hutt’s. All sluglike jelly. But she was in less pain than before. “Someone hurt me … a while ago. Neck and shoulder act up sometimes. The meds make me a little slutty. Shit, I mean slurry.”
“Someone hurt you?” A shadow of real worry creased Nic’s face, all humor vanishing. She didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk about that. “Can you walk? Because you sort of look like—”
“A snail without its shell?”
“I was going to say you look ready to keel over, and given that I’ve already saved you from falling off this balcony once today, I’d rather not see you risk falling again.”
“I really need to get back to my nest.”
“Like … Big Bird?”
“My couch. Can you help me?”
“I’ve been offering to help you for the last five minutes.”
“Have not.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. Whatever came out of her mouth was not a whimper. No matter what it sounded like. “You t-told me I slaughtered my plant.”
“The plant lying in scraps at your feet?”
“You’re a cruel macaroni and cheese man, you know that?” If she were to write out the way her voice sounded, it would be all squiggles.
“I’ve been called worse.” He brushed some of the soil off her rice pack and frowned. “How can I get you up without hurting you?”
“You can’t.” She extended the hand on her good side.
He pulled her up with an arm around her torso and then gripped her under the shoulder. He slid the back door open and helped her inside.
“Ahh, so this is your nest,” he said with a flick of his head toward the pile of blankets and pillows on the couch, where her remote, water bottle, and bigger heating pad waited.
The TV was paused on the beginning of the dance competition show.
He supported her as she made it to the couch and eased down onto the still-hot electric heating pad.
She pulled off the rice pack. She moved to set it down, but Nic took it from her and brought it over to the counter in her tiny kitchen.
She closed her eyes and relaxed into her perfectly placed collection of soft things.
“I miss my bathtub.” Only one part of her was soaking right now, and it wouldn’t do anything to help muscle spasms.
“Ah. Right.… So what are you watching?”
She tried to answer, but what came out was “Dancthcompshun.”
“Want me to unpause?”
“Noimmkay.” Her eyes opened.
When she opened her eyes, Nic was leaning over her. Gently, he wiped the soil from her face and hands with a damp cloth before setting it aside.
He’d shaved tonight. She reached up and touched his jaw, resting her index finger in the chin cleft that had been hidden before. She was a sucker for a cleft chin. This man seemed sent from the goddess to remind her of all the silly mistakes she had made in a long-forgotten past.
He caught her hand before it dropped. “Felicity. I’m worried about you.”
“Nic, why do you seem so … Do I know you?”
“Go to sleep, Felicity. Can I come back and check on you after closing?”
“Umsurekay.” Felicity’s desire to say more was strong, but the muscle relaxants were stronger. “Keysbydoor.”