Page 22 of Fixation
Her sweat soaks through my scrubs. Her pulse is a little higher than it should be.
A fever. It’s just a fever.
Yeah, and I’m just her neighbor, right?
Not the man who can tell when she’s going to wake up by how she twists and turns in her bed.
I’m basically no one. Just the man who memorized her favorite yogurt brand. How she takes her coffee—two sugars, no milk.
Just a stalker who worships every second she peels off her clothes before the shower as if it’s for him.
That’s me.Justme.
Code blue, code blue. I twist with Harper in time before one of the nurses rushes past me toward the room where he’s needed.
Still standing in place, I dip my chin, staring at the passed-out Harper.
The outside world disappears. There’s only her. The only one who’s ever spoken to the rot in my chest.
Saying I’m drawn to her is an understatement. I’m fixated. Obsessed.
Whatever it is, it’s grown roots. Deep, twisted, and permanent.
And my actions? They say more than any denial ever could.
I’m taking her home.
To heal her.
To…
Fuck, no use denying that, either.
I’m kidnapping her. Temporarily.
Only until she’s better.
Into the locker room we go. I move her to my shoulder, balancing her there.
I only need one hand free to open my locker and retrieve my belongings.
My other arm wraps around her thighs possessively.
She’s mine.
The territorial path my thoughts have taken brings a memory to the surface.
After a twenty-eight-hour shift in the hospital, I did what I always had. I showered. Spent an hour watching the feed from Harper’s studio, where she smoothed the edge of one of her silver pieces.
She rubbed her shoulders every few minutes, doing what I will do for her in the very near future.
Despite how tense she was, she wouldn’t take a break.
I dozed off while staring at her scrunched nose and twisted lips. I fell asleep wishing I could have them wrapped around my cock.
When I woke up, it was dark outside. My phone rested in my open palm. Harper was sound asleep.
Someone out on the street wasn’t.
