Chapter 11
ELEVEN
LUCY
I stand behind the front desk folding the same intake form for the third time.
My fingers keep moving even though the paper is already neat.
I can’t stop thinking about last night in Tiny’s truck.
The way he kissed me like he couldn’t get close enough.
The way he pulled back every time I tensed, checking my face before he kept going.
My cheeks heat up just remembering it. I glance around the waiting room to make sure no one is looking at me.
Scarlett walks up to the counter carrying a stack of charts. She sets them down and leans her hip against the desk. Her eyes narrow a little as she studies me. “You’ve got that look again,” she says.
I smooth the form one more time and set it in the correct pile. “What look?”
“The same one you’ve had all morning where you’re smiling at nothing and your face is pink.” She lowers her voice. “Tiny?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I can’t help the small smile that breaks through. “Maybe.”
Scarlett laughs quietly. “Good. You deserve it.” She glances toward the hallway to make sure no patients are close. “You doing okay after the fight with your dad?”
I nod, but my stomach twists at the memory of his raised voice. “It was bad.”
Scarlett’s expression softens. She reaches across the counter and squeezes my arm. “I’m proud of you, Lucy. That took a lot. If you need anything, somewhere to crash, someone to talk to, whatever, just say the word. We’ve got you.”
Her words sit warm in my chest. I swallow hard. “Thank you. Really.”
She gives my arm one more squeeze before she picks up the charts again. “Anytime. Now stop folding that poor form to death and go help Mrs. Langley with her insurance stuff. She’s been staring at the clipboard like it’s written in another language.”
I laugh a little and head over to the waiting area.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur of phone calls and patient check-ins.
Every time my phone vibrates in my pocket I feel a small jolt.
Most of them are just Tiny checking in with silly messages.
One says he’s thinking about me. Another asks if I’ve eaten.
I answer between tasks, my fingers quick on the screen, and each reply makes the day feel lighter.
Sophie comes out of an exam room around eleven.
She spots me at the desk and walks over, wiping her hands on a paper towel.
Her reading glasses are pushed up on top of her head.
She looks tired but her eyes are kind when they land on me.
“You’re glowing today,” she says, keeping her voice low. “Anything you want to share?”
I feel my face warm again. “It’s nothing big. Just… Tiny and I talked last night.”
Sophie nods like she already knew. “That boy’s been texting Cole nonstop, asking how you’re doing, who in turn is texting me because he has no idea.
” She laughs. “He’s worried about you.” She rests her elbow on the counter.
“You know you can talk to me too, right? Not just as your boss. As someone who’s known Tiny since he was a scrawny kid stealing extra grilled cheese sandwiches from my kitchen. ”
I smile at the image. “He mentioned something about that.”
“He ate four that first time and still asked what was for dinner.” Sophie chuckles. “Point is, he’s a good one. Loud and dramatic sometimes, but his heart’s in the right place. If he makes you happy, you hold onto that. Life’s too short to let other people decide who you get to care about.”
Her words settle over me. I nod, throat tight. “I’m trying.”
She gives me a gentle pat on the hand. “That’s all any of us can do. Now go take your lunch break when it’s slow. You look like you could use a minute to breathe.”
I finish up a few more tasks and clock out for lunch a little after one. My phone buzzes as I’m grabbing my bag.
Tiny: You free after your shift? I can pick you up somewhere quiet. I miss your face.
I smile down at the screen and type back.
Me: I get off at four today. Can we go to the clubhouse? I liked it there last time.
Tiny: Yeah. I’ll make sure it’s low key. See you soon, sweetheart.
The rest of my shift drags, but every time I check my phone there’s another message from him.
Nothing big. Just little things that make me feel seen.
When six finally comes I text my mom that I’m going to the library to study.
She doesn’t question it. I slip out the back door and walk the two blocks to where Tiny said he’d be waiting.
His bike is parked at the curb. He’s sitting on it in his cut and jeans, helmet in his lap. The second he sees me his face changes. His shoulders relax. His eyes soften.
He stands up and holds out the extra helmet. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I take the helmet. My hands shake a little as I put it on. This will only be my second time on the bike.
Tiny helps me with the straps, his big fingers careful. “You good?”
I nod. “Yeah. Just nervous.”
He swings his leg over and steadies the bike. “I’ve got you. Hold on tight.”
I climb on behind him. The moment I wrap my arms around his waist and press against his back, everything else fades. He starts the engine. The low rumble vibrates through me. I tighten my grip as he pulls away from the curb.
The ride to the clubhouse is short but I feel every turn. The wind whips past us. I keep my cheek against his back and breathe in the smell of leather and him. By the time we pull into the lot my heart is racing, but it’s the good kind of racing.
He parks and cuts the engine. I stay pressed against him for a second longer than I need to. He reaches back and squeezes my thigh.
“You did good,” he says.
I smile even though he can’t see it. We climb off and he takes my hand as we walk inside.
The main room feels warmer than I remember. Hadley is sitting at the bar with a soda. Tessa is behind it wiping down glasses. Erica is curled up on one of the couches with a book. They all look up when we walk in.
“Lucy!” Tessa calls out. She sets the glass down and comes around the bar. She pulls me into a hug like we’ve known each other for years. “You came back. I was hoping you would.”
Hadley slides off her stool and hugs me next. “Good to see you. You want something to drink? We’ve got soda, water, whatever.”
Erica sets her book aside and gives me a softer hug. “Ignore Tessa if she gets too loud. She’s excited.”
I laugh. The tightness in my shoulders loosens. “Soda is fine. Thank you.”
Tessa pours me a glass and slides it across the bar. “So tell us how you’re doing.”
I take a sip. “Fine. School and work are the same.”
Hadley nods like she understands. “What about Tiny?”
I smile. “Tiny… is good.”
Tessa leans in, eyebrows raised. “And? Spill more than that. That man has been looking at you like he wants to eat you alive since the other night. Did he finally kiss you last night?”
I laugh softly, cheeks burning hotter as I shake my head. “Ummm… yes. And it was, amazing.”
Both girls grin like they know exactly what I mean.
Tiny comes over and wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his side, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. He stays close the whole time. He doesn’t hover, but I catch him watching me with this soft look on his face. It makes my chest feel warm.
After a bit he leans down close to my ear. “You want to go somewhere quieter for a while?”
I nod and my pulse picks up. He takes my hand and leads me down the hallway to a room I haven’t seen before. It’s small but comfortable. There’s a couch against one wall, a couple of chairs, and a lamp on low. He closes the door behind us and the noise from the main room fades.
The second the door clicks shut he turns to me. His hands come up to my face. He kisses me like he’s been waiting hours to do it. I kiss him back just as hard. My bag drops to the floor. I push his jacket off his shoulders and he lets it fall.
We move toward the couch without breaking the kiss. He sits and pulls me into his lap. My knees settle on either side of his thighs. His hands slide under my scrub top, warm against my back making me shiver.
“You okay?” he asks against my mouth.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He kisses me deeper. One hand moves to my waist, the other stays on my back, holding me close. I can feel how much he wants me. It’s in the way his fingers tighten when I rock against him. It’s in the low sound he makes when I thread my fingers through his hair.
We stay like that for a long time. Kissing. Touching. His hands stay respectful even when I can tell he wants more. I appreciate that more than I can say.
At some point he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. His breathing is ragged. “Lucy… I need you to know something.”
I wait, my hands still in his hair.
“You feel different,” he says. His voice is rough. “Being with you like this… it matters. I don’t want to rush you. I don’t want to take anything you’re not ready to give. But I want you. All of you. When you’re ready.”
I kiss him again because I don’t know what to say. The words get stuck in my throat. Instead I show him. I press closer. I let my hands explore his chest under his shirt. His skin is warm. His muscles tense under my touch.
He groans softly. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
I smile against his mouth. “Good.”
He kisses me harder. Then he shifts us. He stands up with me in his arms and sets me on the edge of the couch, dropping to his knees in front of me. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my ears.
“Tiny?”
He looks up at me. His eyes are dark. “I want to make you feel good. Can I?”
I nod before I can overthink it. “Yes.”
He slides my scrub pants down slowly, taking my panties with them. He kisses my knee, then my thigh. His hands are gentle on my skin. When he leans in and puts his mouth on my pussy I gasp. The feeling is so overwhelming but good at the same time. I grip the edge of the couch.
He doesn’t rush. He takes his time. His tongue moves in slow circles. One of his hands holds my thigh open. Every lick, every gentle suck sends sparks through me. I can’t stay quiet. Small sounds keep escaping. He groans against me like he loves the way I taste.
“Tiny,” I breathe. My voice shakes.
He doesn’t stop. He adds a finger, then two, curling them just right. The pressure builds fast. My legs start to tremble. I thread my fingers through his hair and hold on. The pleasure coils tighter and tighter until it snaps.
I come hard. My whole body tightens and I cry out his name. He stays with me through all of it, licking and stroking until I’m shaking and oversensitive. When I finally go limp he kisses my thigh and rests his head against my leg for a second.
I reach down and pull him up. He sits on the couch and I climb into his lap again. I can feel how hard he is. I kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue. He holds me close, one big hand rubbing slow circles on my back.
“You okay?” he asks when we break apart.
I nod against his neck. “Yeah. That was… I’ve never felt anything like that.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Good. I want to give you more of that. Whenever you want it.”
We stay like that for a while. Eventually I fix my clothes. He keeps his arms around me. The guilt starts creeping in as the high fades. I think about my parents at home and how I lied about where I am right now.
Tiny must feel me tense. He rubs my back again. “What’s going on in your head?”
I sigh. “I feel guilty. For lying. For being here. For wanting this.”
He’s quiet for a minute. “I get that. But you’re not doing anything wrong, Lucy. You’re allowed to have a life. You’re allowed to want someone who makes you happy.”
I lift my head and look at him and smile. “You do make me happy.”
His face softens. He kisses me slow and sweet. “You make me happy too, Buttercup. More than you know.”
When it’s time to leave he walks me back to his bike.
The night air is cold. He helps me with the helmet again, then climbs on.
I wrap my arms around him tight as the engine rumbles to life.
The ride back toward my car feels too short.
I press my cheek to his back and hold on, letting the vibration and the warmth of him settle the last bits of guilt for a little while longer.
He parks near my car and helps me off. Before I can say anything he pulls me in for one more kiss. It’s soft and lingering. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against mine. “Text me when you’re home,” he says.
“I will.”
He watches me walk to my car. I glance back once. He’s still standing there by the bike. I smile and get behind the wheel.
The whole drive home I replay the night in my head.
The way he dropped to his kneesThe way he checked in with me the whole time.
The way he held me after. The way the bike felt between my legs on the way back, his body solid and warm in front of me.
I feel alive in a way I never have before. Seen. Wanted. Cherished.
But when I pull into the driveway and see the lights on in the living room, the guilt comes rushing back. I sit in the car for a minute and take a deep breath. I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. Sneaking around. Lying to my parents. But I also know I’m not ready to give Tiny up.
I grab my bag and head inside. My dad is in his chair. My mom is in the kitchen. They both look at me when I walk in.
“You’re late,” Dad says.
“I was studying,” I tell him. The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. But the alternative, not seeing Tiny, or my friends, is unacceptable.
He stares at me for a long second but doesn’t push it. I go upstairs to my room and close the door. I pull out my phone and text Tiny.
Me: Home safe. Thank you for tonight. I needed that.
His reply comes fast.
Tiny: Anytime, sweetheart. Get some rest. I’m thinking about you.
I smile at the screen and lie back on my bed. The guilt is still there, but so is the memory of his mouth on me. Of his hands holding me like I matter. Of the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the room. Of the rumble of his bike under us on the way home.
I close my eyes and let myself feel both things at once. The fear and the joy. The guilt and the freedom. For now, it’s enough. For now, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing him. I’m choosing me.