30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Tage
Three months later…
New year, new me. Hooray!
This year, that actually means something. Kind of.
I’m fully healed from my accident and feeling better each day.
I’m still tired a lot of the time, and I’m definitely out of shape from being forced to stay in bed for so long.
My muscles burn almost all the time from not being used.
My cast is still on, but I’m scheduled to have it removed next week.
I’ve been working for the last month, though it’s only been remotely, because Lane refuses to let me work too hard.
We’d argued for a whole week about me going back to work before he finally gave in and agreed to a remote situation.
I didn’t feel so bad about it because other employees work remotely, so I didn’t think I was getting special treatment, but I was going crazy doing nothing but watching TV.
I binged Friends, Seinfeld, The Originals, Vampire Diaries and True Blood.
I lost count of all the movie series I watched, but I recall going through all the Friday the 13ths, Nightmare on Elm Street, Child’s play, and the Michael Myers movies.
I’ve watched more TV in the last two months than I’ve watched in my entire life.
And let me tell you, watching scary movies when you can hardly move is a bad idea. But it was all the excitement I’ve had.
Not moving around has made sleeping terrible because I’m not tiring myself out.
I am just so ready to get back to a normal schedule, and once this cast is off, I think I can do that.
I’ll have to do physical therapy for a while, which is good.
It’ll help jump start me into a better routine.
Slow workouts. Time out of the house. Anything to get me moving so I can sleep better and stop being so miserable.
Lane had caught me in the gym a few times and yelled at me. He actually yelled.
I wasn’t doing anything I couldn’t handle, but for him, it was still too much. I wasn’t even allowed to walk on the treadmill on slow!
He can be annoying, but really, it’s sweet how much he cares and has been taking care of me. Considering he’s the only one I have, I’m super grateful for him too.
He’s also been home a lot, only going into the office a few times a week for what he absolutely needs.
Which means everyone at the office is probably speculating about us.
Not only are we both out at the same time, but I was driving his car.
If anyone hasn’t put that together, they should be fired because clearly their brain isn’t working at full capacity.
I haven’t heard from my parents again, even though I unblocked their numbers, and I’m not surprised about that at all.
Disappointed, yes, but definitely not surprised.
It stings a little, mostly when I think about it, which I try not to do.
What’s the point? If they don’t care about me, which they’ve proved, then why should I care about them?
“What are you doing?” Lane asks as he comes into the kitchen.
“Nothing!” I say as I whirl around from the fridge. The movement hurts my back, but I don’t say that and I try to hide it as best as I can.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I’m just looking for a snack, Lane,” I groan.
“Why are you doing it when I could do it for you?”
I hold up my right hand. “Because I have a perfectly good working limb and I’m an adult who can take care of myself.” He raises a brow. “It’s bad enough you made me get rid of my apartment and—”
“Whoa,” he says, holding his hands up. “I did not make you do that. You decided.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. You didn’t make me do it.”
Lane helped me realize that choosing this type of life isn’t the same as having it chosen for me.
And that realization… it changed a lot for me.
This whole experience made me consider what I was doing.
The biggest thing was realizing that not every moment is promised.
And if I want something, I should take it while I have the opportunity.
I could have died that day. Thankfully, for whatever reason, I didn’t.
So yes, I chose to give up my apartment because I’d much rather be here with Lane.
The apartment was never really about the apartment anyway.
It was about me proving that I could be on my own.
And I did that. Now, if Lane would just back off and let me keep being independent, I may stop plotting his death.
Kidding.
I love him. I would never plot his death.
“You wanted to do it,” he says.
I smile and put my good arm around his waist. “Yes, I wanted to do it.”
His arms slide around me. “I just want to take care of you,” he says before kissing me.
“And you do, but you’re also driving me crazy because I’m fully capable of doing things myself.”
“But it makes me so happy,” he pouts.
I laugh. “Fine. Make me a snack,” I grumble.
He kisses my cheek. “Thank you. What would you like?”
“Surprise me.”
I go sit on the couch that has my body imprint on it at this point. I grab the remote and find something to put on, but just for noise. I can’t stand to watch any more TV.
Lane comes over a few minutes later with a plate full of the best stuff.
Grapes and strawberries. Yogurt for dipping, because he knows I love that. Cubed cheese, pepperoni, and some cashews.
“You’re the best,” I say as I take the plate and rest it on my lap to eat.
He sits beside me. “Are you excited about getting this off?” He pokes my cast.
“Do fish swim?”
Laughing, he picks a grape from my plate and pops it into his mouth.
“I’m more excited about what it means,” I say.
“What does it mean?”
“Back to work. Back to normal sex.”
Nodding, he says, “I’ll admit, I am looking forward to the second one as well. Though, it’s never bad.” He narrows his eyes. “Right?”
“Of course it’s not bad, I just hate not being able to move around the way I want.”
He kisses my cheek and settles beside me, his gaze going to the TV. Something he now enjoys because he has the time.
We eat the snack together, chatting about work and our plans for buying a house—because we are going to do that. Once I’m healed, we’re going to look at some.
He hasn’t asked about my parents again, and I’m not sure if he will.
Maybe he has enough of an answer. Maybe meeting them was enough for him to know.
One day, I think I’ll talk to him about it, but I’m not ready to get into all of that right now.
I’m relieved that he finally knows, but it doesn’t mean anything.
My past shouldn’t matter to him. Not unless it’s something that affects him, and this doesn’t.
Who I am now, today, is what should matter to him.
And it does. He doesn’t push me about my past. He never has.
I don’t think he will. But one day I’ll talk about it, when I’m ready.
The sun slowly goes down, and I know he’s going to get up soon to start dinner. Or order in. I never know what his plans are when it comes to eating, but there is always food at mealtimes. I am starting to get a little hungry, but I’m suddenly craving something else.
Lane is on my left, so it makes it a little difficult to be subtle or sneaky, so I just go for it. I place the plate on the coffee table in front of us as I slide to the floor, onto my knees, and settle between his legs.
He looks down at me with a smirk.
“Did you drop something?” he asks with a smart tone.
I tug on his belt. “Maybe…”
“And it just happened to fall into my pants?”
“Probably not… but there’s definitely something in here that I want.”
His smile grows and he lifts his hips to help me get his pants down. He’s already hard when I free him, and I waste no time taking him into my mouth. It’s a little awkward with my arm in the cast, but it’s getting easier to manage. Figures, I get used to it when it’ll be coming off.
Lane’s hands find my head, resting there, and guiding me. I take him as deeply as I can and suck hard when I lift my head. Slow and firm. That’s how he likes it.
“Tage, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans, grasping onto my hair. “You’re going to make me come.”
He continues to praise me in this raspy voice, so I keep doing what I’m doing, wanting to make him feel good.
He warns me right before his orgasm hits, and my mouth fills with his hot cum. I swallow it all down, then sit back and look at him, enjoying his blissed-out look.
“So, do I get dinner now?” I ask.
He laughs. “No,” he grumbles, getting to his feet and fixing his pants. He lifts me carefully and I wrap my legs around his waist. “I’m going to take you to the bedroom and fuck you until you come. Then you can have dinner.”
“Don’t hate that idea,” I say before kissing his neck… all the way up to the bedroom.