Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
CHLOE
“I should warn you.”
Brantley frowns as he looks down at me. He’s holding my hand above my head, squeezing my finger tight while I lie down. Even when he’s worried, he’s fucking attractive.
“Warn me about what? That you’re shit with knives? A little too late, I already figured that out.”
“No, you ass. I would have been fine if you hadn’t distracted me.”
“Sure…”
“Anyway…I should warn you that pain meds and me are not friends,” she mumbles.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” I murmur right as the doctor comes in.
“Good evening, Miss Spears. My name is Dr. Scott. I hear you had an eventful night and cut yourself.”
I hum, nodding my head.
“Wait, you’re the doctor?” Brantley says, making me look at him.
He’s staring down the doctor like the man has personally offended him.
“I am.”
“Surely there’s someone here who’s been around longer. You look like you just graduated.”
“Brantley,” I scold before turning toward the doctor. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He usually isn’t like this. I promise, he’s housebroken.”
The corners of Dr. Scott’s mouth kick up. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” He turns toward Brantley and starts rattling off his qualifications.
They mean nothing to me, but they must to Brantley because he relaxes the longer the good doctor speaks.
“Can I check her injury now?” Dr. Scott asks when he’s done.
“Of course.”
“Of course he says, like it’s his body and his choice,” I mutter under my breath.
When Brantley lets go of my hand, turning it over to Dr. Scott, he pinches my thigh.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“Sassing me,” he says, making Dr. Scott chuckle as he unwraps my finger.
“All right, it looks like you cut yourself down to the bone. You will most definitely need stitches,” Dr. Scott tells us.
“That explains why it’s throbbing so much,” I say unhelpfully.
“Do we need to call in a plastic surgeon?” Brantley asks.
I look over at him. “Have you lost your mind? It’s my finger and a cut. It’s not like I chopped it completely off.”
“You could call one if you would like, but I think it’s unnecessary. We can get her stitched up and out of here shortly,” Dr. Scott tells him.
“Okay, I’m trusting you,” Brantley says.
“Cool, keep talking about me like I’m not here. Drug me up and get it done. Let me know what else you two decide,” I say with no heat.
Brantley rolls his eyes. “Sorry, she can be ridiculous sometimes.”
“Pot meet kettle,” I mutter.
“Let me go grab my nurse and the supplies, and I’ll be right back,” Dr. Scott says before slipping out of the room.
“Way to go. You scared him away,” I tell him.
Brantley sighs as he pulls up a chair next to my bed. Once he’s sitting, he places his hand on my thigh. I should probably tell him to move it, but I don’t. For some reason it feels right.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll call a plastic surgeon in if you want.”
I roll my eyes. “As sweet as that is, it’s unnecessary. Honestly, if I would have cut myself when you weren’t home, I would have just superglued it shut.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t even. You know what, no more knives.”
I scoff. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“It is, I’m getting rid of all of them.”
I roll my eyes. “Dude, your knives are expensive as fuck. You aren’t just going to get rid of them just because I cut myself. It was an accident. I’ll be fine.”
“Watch me,” he mutters, and Dr. Scott and his nurse walk in.
“Hi Chloe, my name is Gwen. I’m Dr. Scott’s head nurse. I have some lidocaine here to numb the area before we stitch you up and get you out of here. How does that sound?”
“That sounds great. Thank you,” I tell her.
“No, that’s not okay. She needs something stronger than lidocaine,” Brantley tells them.
“He’s a protective one, isn’t he?” Gwen asks Chloe.
Chloe nods. “You have no idea. He was just talking about throwing out his knives.”
“Oh no.” Gwen chuckles.
“How about one dose of oxycodone before we get started? Then once you leave, you can take Tylenol or ibuprofen. How does that sound?” Dr. Scott says it like he’s asking me, but he’s looking at Brantley for approval.
Fucking men.
“That works,” Brantley tells him.
Thirty minutes later, I’m loopy as fuck, and we’re on our way home. The streetlights flicker like some bad horror movie, making me giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your face.” I laugh.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you and pain meds aren’t friends.”
“I would have been fine with the shot, but nooooo.” I drag out the word. “You had to strong-arm your way in.”
“I’m sorry for caring.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like me, Brantley Gibson.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“You like me. You love me. You wanna be with me. You wanna fuck me, all night long,” I singsong.
“Please stop,” he begs as we pull up to the house.
“You don’t want to fuck me?” I gasp, my feelings hurt. “You know what, that’s fine. I don’t want to fuck you either.”
“If you ask me to fuck you when you’re sober, I’ll gladly do it. That’s not what I was talking about, and you know it.”
I frown. “Huh? If you want to fuck, why did you ask me to stop?”
He touches my head. “I was asking you to stop singing.”
“You don’t like my singing?”
“Not when you are yelling? I kind of need my hearing.”
“Psh, hearing is overrated.”
“Stay there.” Brantley stops touching me and gets out of the car.
I watch as he rounds the hood and comes to my side.
“I want to walk,” I whine.
He rubs his head but lets my feet touch the ground as he holds me next to him.
“Hey, can we try something?” I ask as we start to walk toward the house.
“What do you have in mind?” he asks.
“Can I try bouncing a quarter off your ass?”
Brantley freezes, making me jerk as I attempt to continue to move forward with his arm around me.
“Ow. Why did you stop?” I whine.
“You want to bounce a quarter off my ass?” he says carefully.
“Yeah, is that okay?” I ask like it’s a normal suggestion.
I can’t be the first person to ask, right?
Brantley shakes his head and mutters under his breath so quietly I can’t make out his words. Oh well. If he’s not open to it now, it doesn’t mean he won’t be later. I’ll just have to convince him it’s a good idea.
Brantley leads me upstairs and up to my room.
I gasp. “Are we fucking now?”
“No, we are going to bed,” he says plainly.
I pout as he pushes me into bed. “You’re no fun.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says as I put my head on my pillow.
“Promise?”
“Promise. Now get some sleep,” he says as my eyes drift closed.
brANTLEY
I’m trailing kisses down her body as she squirms beneath me.
“Brantley…” she moans, making my dick twitch.
“So responsive,” I murmur against her skin.
Suddenly I’m ripped from the dream as a weight falls on top of me, making me gasp.
“Brantley, why are you sleeping?” Chloe whines.
My hands move from under the blanket to her hips, holding her in place.
I look over at the clock before looking back at her. “Maybe because it’s four a.m.”
She huffs, resting her full body weight on top of me.
Her eyes widen. “Is that a banana between your legs, or are you excited to see me?”
“Chloe,” I warn.
“Were you having a dirty dream? What was happening? Don’t leave anything out,” she says as she rests her chin on her hands that lay over my chest.
“We aren’t talking about this.”
She rocks her hips, and without thinking about it, I slap her ass, making us both groan.
“I mean, that’s not why I came in here, but I’m game.”
“You’re hurt.”
Even in the dark I can tell that she rolls her eyes.
“It’s just my finger.”
“Why are you awake?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I woke up hungry.”
“So you woke me up, why?”
“Well, see, I was going to eat some cucumber but then I realized it was all gone. Any guesses where it went?” she asks.
“In the trash?” I lie.
“Right…anyway, I was going to cut up some cheese, but there are no knives in the kitchen. None. Not even a butter knife.”
“I told you I was going to get rid of them.”
“But I didn’t think you were serious!”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I was. We don’t need them.”
“Yes, we do. How else are we going to cut the cheese.” Chloe starts to giggle, realizing what she said. “You get it? Cut the cheese.”
“Yes, Chloe, I got it.”
“I’m so funny, I crack myself up,” she says as she wipes under her eye. “Seriously, though, I’m hungry. I’m so hungry I could eat you.”
Before I can stop her, she nips at my chest, making me hiss.
“Oh, the banana between your legs liked that,” she whispers, as if it’s a secret that my cock twitched.
I tap her hip. “Okay, get up and I’ll make you something.”
“I don’t want to. I’m so comfortable.”
“You’re never having pain meds again,” I tell her.
“I’m not high anymore.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She moves her head from side to side. “About eighty-five-point five percent sure, yeah.”
“Are you going to move so I can make you something?”
“Nope.” She pops her P.
I wonder if that’s where Ari gets it from.
“I guess you really aren’t hungry then.”
“I was lonely. I got cold and then I heard a noise, and I thought someone was in my room with me,” she says, making me tense.
“Someone was in your room?”
“No, silly. It was just my imagination. Ghosts aren’t real.”
She says she’s not high anymore, but I very highly doubt that.
“So are you going to tell me what happened to the cucumber?” she asks, changing the subject once again.
“I told you, I got rid of it.”
“Know what I think?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
She leans in so close I can feel her lips brush against my chin. “I think you liked the way I tasted and didn’t want to share, so you ate every last piece yourself.”
“That’s one theory,” I mutter as I eye her lips.
So close. I could just lean in and press mine against hers.
No, I can’t. She’s high on pain meds. Any other time she wouldn’t be this close. Wouldn’t be this open with me.
Her head lolls to the side. “Can I sleep in here? You’re so comfy.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why, because you want to fuck me?”
I squeeze my eyes shut as I will my dick not to move. “Can we please, for the love of all things holy, stop talking about fucking?”
“Do you know what’s holy? Me, I got three.” She giggles.
That’s it.
I can’t take it anymore, and if I can’t act on my feelings, I’ll go to hell.
I roll over and toss her off of me. She bounces lightly onto my bed.
“Hey!” she whines as I roll away.
I swing my legs out from under the covers and stand. My cock sticks out from my shorts, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now.
“Come on, let’s get you a snack and then back to bed,” I say with my back still to her.
With zero warning, Chloe jumps onto my back and wraps her legs around my waist. My hands grab onto her thighs.
“You caught me!” she cheers.
“What, did you think I would drop you?” I ask as I leave my room.
“No, never…wait, where are you going?”
“Do you want a snack or to go back to bed?”
Her thighs tighten around my hips. “Bed, but only if you check under it for monsters.”
Changing directions, I carry her up the stairs and to her room.
“Let go,” I tell her as I back up next to her bed.
“I don’t wanna.”
I roll my eyes as I sit and remove her hands from my neck.
“Get in,” I tell her as I stand.
Shockingly, she does as I ask and moves, getting under the covers. I take my time and tuck her in.
“There.”
“You’re really good at that,” she says quietly.
“You can thank Ari.”
I drop to my knees and look under her bed. All that I can see are dust bunnies, reminding me to call the housekeeper, Vanessa. I stand and move to her closet and then her bathroom.
“Anything?” she asks when I step back into her room.
When I started thinking of this as her room, I don’t know, but she’s sure as hell made it her own if the amount of shit on the bathroom counter is anything to go by.
“Nothing. No monsters to be found,” I tell her as I move toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to bed. Good night.”
“What? Why? You can sleep in here with me.”
I pause on the threshold and look over my shoulder. “Trust me, if I stay in here, the last thing we would be doing is sleeping. Good night.”
I chuckle when I hear a pillow thump against the wall.
“Tease!”
“You love it!” I call out as I make my way down the hall.