Page 9 of Harley

I made a show of yawning, and Oakley shut up, and the mattress dipped as she sat up and shuffled down the bed. Following suit, I stretched and caught sight of Oakley eyeing my stomach as my tee had shifted.

Oakley licked her lips and then adverted her head and winced. Damn, I glanced at the clock and saw it had been five hours since she’d woken me.

“Painkillers,” I grunted out and moved out of bed.

“Please,” Oakley asked, and I shook a couple out and handed them to her.

Oakley swallowed them as I checked her feet.

“Your left looks infected, which puts a stop in any plans you might have,” I said, frowning.

“Well, I can’t stay here until I heal. I need to put distance between me and Illinois.”

“There’re options. Oakley, I’m going to shower and collect my gear, and we can talk at the diner. Would you like another shower?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

Deftly, I carried Oakley into the bathroom and ensured she had everything she needed, including wrapping her feet, before leaving.

Showering and dressing, I returned to Oakley within fifteen minutes. Quietly, letting myself into the room, I called out, and Oakley replied she was just dressing.

I noted Oakley left her hair to dry naturally, and the first impression of high maintenance faded. Oakley seemed quite happy with simple things.

Once she shouted she was ready, I carried her to the bed and checked her feet.

“Shit, Oakley, these are infected. Both of them. Your right is the worst. You’re going to need antibiotics. I’m gonna call a doctor,” I said.

“No!” Oakley cried.

“Don’t worry. Doc Paul will see you off the books. He’s a friend of the club. Doc Paul will come out and won’t make a record of the visit,” I reassured her.

Oakley kept running her hands over her jeans and looked worried. She wore the second hoodie I’d bought.

“Here, I got you some socks. These will keep your feet warm,” I said, slipping them on once I’d re-cleaned and slathered up her feet.

“Thank you,” Oakley said.

Packing the remainder of Oakley’s items into a backpack I’d purchased and shrugging it on, I checked the room and picked her up.

“What are you doing?” Oakley demanded as I carried her out.

“Getting breakfast.”

“Harley, you can’t keep carrying me everywhere. Put me down. I’ll walk on the sides of my feet,” Oakley hissed, ducking her head as a man walked past and chuckled.

“Oakley, I didn’t doctor your feet for you to wreck my work. Shut up.”

“That’s rude!” Oakley exclaimed as I kept striding forward.

A waitress saw me coming and got the door, her mouth open in surprise.

“Table for two,” I requested.

Definitely looking bemused, the woman led me to a booth, and I gently slid Oakley in.

“I’ve hurt my feet,” Oakley explained, and the waitress nodded.

“Sweetheart, if I had a man as handsome as him, I’d be carried everywhere, too,” the waitress quipped, and I laughed.

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