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SLEEPING BEAUTY. THAT’S what I’m going to call her from now on. Too bad I’m not the prince that gets to kiss those sweet lips and wake her from her sleep. For now, I’ll settle for being the lucky man that gets her all to myself behind this curtain.
I don’t know when they will release her from here or how we’re getting home, but for now, I’m content to just sit and watch her breathe. Her chest rises and falls softly in the dull blue hospital gown someone else helped her into before I was allowed to come back and sit with her. A small, jagged scar puckers the skin under her chin and suddenly I want to hear the story of how it came to mar her delicate skin. Her cheeks still glow with a light rose tint, illuminating her entire face. It looks like she’s constantly bathed in moonlight. I wonder what she does look like in the moonlight. Her eye shadow shimmers in the harsh light of the room with the slight twitching of her eyelids; she must be dreaming.
She sighs in her sleep and throws her hand out to her side, grazing mine. That slight skin to skin contact hardens my dick. The nurse comes in right at that moment to take her vitals, and I shift in my seat to cover my raging bulge. She stares at her hand on mine the whole time she pumps the blood pressure cuff, making me even more uncomfortable. She‘s probably wondering why I’m not holding her hand.
When did I start caring what other people thought of me? Or is it just today? Maybe it’s all things connected with Ava? Is this the invisible string that Tito was talking about? These little subtle changes that I’m noticing since she swept into my life— they all point to her.
The nurse notes her vitals in her chart, and turns to me. “As soon as she wakes up, you can take her home. Just let me know and I’ll bring her discharge papers in to sign,” she whispers.
“I can wake her. You probably need the space,” I reply, standing and stretching my back muscles.
“No, please don’t. She’s fine and needs to rest,” she assures me. “This is what we call the adrenaline crash. It always happens after anaphylaxis. The body gets all keyed up for fight or flight, and when the event is over the adrenaline subsides and the body crashes into exhaustion and sleeps. Please sit and rest. We aren’t that busy.”
I do as she instructs, but pull my chair closer to the bed. My own body is tired. Ava woke me up earlier than expected and I had my own adrenaline rush going on trying to get her some help. I fold my arms over onto the bed and rest my head against them, blocking out the light in the room.
****
FINGERNAILS ARE SOFTLY scraping the hair on the nape of my neck in long even strokes. Every few light caresses, the hair on the top of my head is played with, pushing it to the one side of my forehead. I twitch slightly in my dream; the touch is ticklish and light like a teasing lover’s touch. When one of the caresses touches my ear, I jerk awake. Sitting up, I look around through squinted eyes as the fluorescent light casts a halo around the room.
Ava’s face comes into focus with her shy smile beaming. Warmth floods my chest as I realize she was the one caressing me in my dream. No, in reality. Her hand was mid-air getting ready to push my hair off my forehead again. She lowers it down to her side bashfully, and plays with some loose strings hanging from the blanket. Her almond-shaped eyes are lowered, keeping her shyness contained. “Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask, pushing myself to sit up straight.
“I feel much better, thank you. I don’t know what came over me, but all of the sudden I couldn’t keep my eyes open,” she explains, her voice is clearer but still a little rough and tight. She wipes at her eyes to remove the last signs of sleep from them. Her hand comes up to her mouth to cover a very big yawn. I yawn too and she starts to giggle.
“What are you giggling at?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just a family game that I play with my little brother about yawning. It’s silly,” she says, and starts fiddling with her hair by removing her ponytail holder and raking her fingers through it; she’s attempting to change the subject but I’m not going to let her.
“C’mon, tell me the game? I love games. I’ll play it with you,” I practically beg. She looks at me out of the side of her eye, probably trying to gauge if I’m serious or not. Her almond-shaped eyes are soft and endearing, making me want to play anything with her. “Unless you’re afraid you’ll lose?”
“I’m darn good at it since I’ve been playing it for years,” she exclaims, clearly challenging me. “I’m sure I’ll win, but you’re pretty cocky for a man that doesn’t even know the rules.”
You’d never know this woman just went through an epic health event, but she threw down the challenge and I’m going to accept. “Bring it on,” I say.
“Okay,” she says, sitting up straighter and preparing for battle. “When someone yawns, you have to do whatever you can to make that person stop yawning...like pinching their nose or making them laugh, and sometimes it gets as crazy as dancing. The object of the game is to get them to stop yawning because it’s contagious. You don’t want to start yawning too. Understand?”
“And what happens if I start to yawn?” I ask. She finishes twisting her hair around her ponytail and tucks it into the banding.
“The game continues until the yawning completely stops, and the winner is whoever stopped the last yawn,” she states, using the remote to raise the back of the bed to a sitting position. “I warn you though; this game can go on for a long time. It continues on until someone declares themselves the winner.”
And with perfect Solis timing, I yawn again—that shit is contagious. She reaches over and taps my nose, completely surprising me. “Alright, game on,” I say, smiling. “Oh! I almost forgot. The nurse said we can go when you wake up. Do you want to push the button to call her in? She has discharge papers for you.”
“Heck yeah. I want to go home,” she blurts out, and pushes the button hanging from the side of the bed. “How long do you think we have before she comes in? It’s 4:13 p.m. now.”
“I don’t know. Maybe two or three minutes,” I answer, sounding confused and not sure why she’s asking.
“I bet you one dollar that she takes longer than four minutes to respond,” she says, winking at me.
Who is this person sitting here with me? This is not the hard-nosed businesswoman from the radio station. She pulls the covers back to sit on the side of the bed and starts to swing her legs over, but mid-swing, her gown rides up allowing me to see the soft flesh of her inner thighs. My eyes creep further and I see the lace of her white panties. I quickly look down at my feet, pretending to not notice, but my dick bulges in my pants again, pushing against my zipper. I’m so uncomfortable right now. I need a distraction.
“You’re on,” I say, holding my fist out to bump hers. I really like this girl because when she returns my fist bump, she splays out her fingers in an explosion, just like my buddies and I do. I look up at her and her eyes are shining with amusement. How in the hell did I ever cause those doe-eyes to cry?
I stand and turn to reach for her clothes to help, but she quickly says, “Don’t bother, I’ll get them.” As she picks them up, the strap of her bra falls out of the neatly folded clothes, and she jostles to tuck it back in and out of my sight. I guess she thinks I’m not used to seeing lingerie. I’ve probably seen more lingerie in my lifetime than she has.
I move to the side and give her some space to get dressed, turning my back to her. The space is tiny enough as it is with the bed and chair. The sun has moved from the window and is hanging over the ocean. It’s definitely late afternoon. I can see her partial reflection in the glass, but ignore the temptation of sneaking a peek at her body with every bit of mental strength I have.
I bend over and stretch my arms to the floor, trying to loosen the tight muscles in my back from sleeping bent over. When I stand up again, she’s sliding her pants up under the hospital gown. I hear the zing of the zipper closing the front securely. I hear a slight elongated sighing noise escape her throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see she’s still messing with the buttons on her shirt, so I don’t dare turn around. Instead, I pick up one of the magazines sitting on the window sill and smack it against the window with a loud thud. She startles and jumps.
“Excuse me, but did you just yawn?” I ask, tapping the rolled up magazine against the palm of my hand waiting for her response.
She laughs, “Umm, yeah. I did. Darn it. Guess I lost that round.”
The curtain pulls back and the nurse strolls in. We both immediately look at the clock. It’s 4:16 p.m. “I win!” I exclaim. Her eyes fall, and she grudgingly reaches for her purse to fish out a one dollar bill. The nurse gives us both a quizzical look, but starts explaining the discharge instructions. She slaps the dollar bill in my hand and rolls her eyes, sighing loudly in aggravation for losing.
I tap the Lyft app on my phone and enter my address. It says someone could be here within five minutes, so I go ahead and schedule the ride.
Within fifteen minutes we are getting dropped off at her building. We both thank the driver, and I tap my phone app again to pay her with a nice tip. “Thanks for going with me today. I appreciate it,” Ava says, lowering her eyes and shuffling her feet on the broken concrete. “It was nice not to be alone.”
“Can I walk you upstairs just to make sure you get in safely?” I ask. “I want to make sure you don’t get weak with all that walking.”
“Sure, if you can handle five flights of stairs,” she teases me. “Be my guest.” She unlocks the door and I hold it open for her to pass through first. We both trudge up the stairs, getting more tired with each passing flight, but finally arrive at her door. We both lean against the wall, resting.
“Why is there not an elevator?” I ask. “This is beyond exhausting.”
“Oh, there is. I never use it though. Taking the stairs helps me to get my cardio in,” she laughs. “Maybe you need more exercise in your life?”
“I get plenty of cardio on a daily basis,” I admit, looking into her face. I’d love to do some of my kind of workout with her, but I’ve got a feeling she doesn’t do her workouts naked like I do. She looks tired all of a sudden. Those stairs were probably too much after the day she’s had.
“Doing what?” she asks sincerely.
A wide smile breaks across my face giving away my thoughts. “Never mind,” she says, rolling her eyes as a heated flush begins to creep into her cheeks. “That was stupid of me to ask. I get it.” Her smile fades and her eyes dull with my silent confession. It is what it is. I can’t change who I am or what I’ve done. But I will admit I’ve never felt bad about it until now.
I lift her chin up so that I can see her eyes. Right then, her body gives in to the tiredness that she feels and she yawns. I lean into her and press my lips to hers, pulling her in and cradling her softly in my arms.