Page 7 of Joshua
My lids are heavy, but I pry them open after a few tries. They round when I find the man of my fantasy mere inches from my face. His tongue slips out and runs along his lower lip, and my mouth parts, eager to chase the pink flesh. He clears his throat, and his hand wraps around mine. Glancing between us, I note my hand is locked on him.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I say, releasing his shirt.
He pulls back slowly, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “Everything okay?”
I nod. Dream and reality swirl in my head as I try to make sense of what just happened. I’m feeling groggy. “Yeah,” I mutter. “Weird dream…”
“I see that. How are you feeling?” He straightens so there’s an acceptable distance between us.
Doing a Kegel, I note there is still a little discomfort, but the worst of it is gone. “Much better! How long have I been out?” I turn my head to face the clock.
“About forty-five minutes. I planned on coming by twenty minutes ago, but we had a situation.”
I nod. My head swims with exhaustion, and I fight to stay awake.
“It doesn’t feel like your vagina’s melting anymore?” he asks.
My face warms when he repeats my description from earlier. “No, no more melting.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll let Dr. Rollins know and get your discharge paperwork. Is there someone you can call? It’s probably best if you don’t drive with how tired you are.”
“Yeah, I’ll call a cab…”
He grunts, his brow pinching. “Okay,” he mutters and disappears out of the room quickly.
I scrub my face and slap it a few times, hoping to chase the sleep away. He was so fucking close, and I wanted to find out what he tastes like. I haven’t been this attracted to a man in… years? Sure, there’s been men I wanted but not like him. Would it be wrong to slip him my number? I mean, after I’m discharged I won’t be his patient, right? Then again, with how I feel, I’ve probably messed up my chances.
After unlocking my phone, I open the camera and flip it to selfie mode. My hair is a messy lump on the top of my head, but at least there aren’t remnants of mascara under my eyes. Before I can examine my appearance further, the screen flashes, and I see “Queen B calling.”
“Hello?”
“Are you okay? I haven’t been able to sleep and figured by now you’d know what’s wrong with your poor hoohah.”
“Allergic reaction.” I sigh the last word and lean my head back.
“Oh shit—wait, you okay? You sound—”
“Tired. Really tired. They gave me Benadryl.”
I hear shuffling through the phone. “When are they releasing you?”
“Now? Or as soon as Nurse Hottie says I’m all set,” I mutter and let my eyelids drift closed.
Angela giggles. “Nurse Hottie?”
“Mmmhmm… sex on a stick. Wish he’d stick me.”
A throat clears, and I freeze. My eyes flutter open, carefully allowing the light to seep in, and I make out a form at the end of my bed. When I realize it’s him, I shut my eyes and groan.
“You’re all set, Hazel,” Nurse Hottie says, and I pray the floor will open up and swallow me whole. I ignore the humor in his words and focus on the sound of my name rolling off his tongue. I like it. I like it a hell of a lot.
“Is that him?” Angela calls out, and he chuckles. There’s no way anyone can miss Angela when she speaks, even through the phone.
“Come get me,” I snap and lower the phone, not caring if I’ve ended the call.
After a fortifying breath, I face him. Humor and kindness reflect back at me, and I’m thankful it’s not worse. He goes into the motions as he discharges me, ignoring what he’s heard. I grab my things and latch on to the adrenaline that kicked in once I was caught talking about him.
“Thanks for everything,” I mutter and slip out. I escape down the hall but take one last look. He’s worth a second and even third glance. It’s not like I’ll see him again.
Except this time, what I see is regret.
