Sherry
For the life of me, I don’t understand why this stuff always happens to me. I’m being honest when I say this. Not one of my friends has my kind of issues. They don’t fall asleep in weird places. They don’t break out from just the scent of a cat. They don’t embarrass themselves in front of hot doctors that they can’t stop thinking about. The later part is a whole different situation. One that I need to deal with and fast. In the past, I’ve had a few boyfriends here and there, but not one of them has ever made my heart flutter so fast that at any moment it’s going to hop out of my chest and into Greyson’s. Not only does that happen, but every time he touches me my tunnel of love contracts. It’s like it’s speaking some foreign language to his penis. Maybe it is… Who knows, and trust me I’ve tried to get it to stop. Stupid tunnel has a mind of its own… Dang traitor.
Time stands still as I sit here and wait for Greyson to return. I’m praying he’s changed his mind when I decide to get up and head to the kitchen. It’s way past dinner time, and the grumbles of my stomach could possibly be heard in the next zip code. Fumbling through the refrigerator, I balance on one leg while searching for something satisfying. I’m trying to remember the last time Ava, and I went grocery shopping and keep coming up empty—just like the fridge. Just as I go to slam the door Greyson’s voice echoes through the place, sending me sideways and down to the floor.
“Sherry, are you okay,” he says hovering over me and staring with those come fuck me eyes he has.
“No, my ankle hurts and my elbow,” I whine in response as I sit up. Before I can protest it, he’s sliding off my sock to examine the damage.
“Can you move it?”
“Yes, it’s just a sprain to go along with my otherwise shitty day.”
“Come on, let’s get you back to safety—and by that, I mean the couch. Babe, you’re a walking disaster. How have you made it this long without serious injury?”
“Don’t know, I ask myself this, every day.”
Greyson helps me hobble over to the sofa. When I lean back and look at him, I notice that he’s freshly showered and sporting a pair of basketball shorts and white crew neck t-shirt. Simple and comfortable, which is what I want to be right now.
“I need to go to my room. I’ll be right back?”
“How ya going to get there, crawl?”
“No, smartass, I’ll walk-obble…” I say, looking at him like he’s grown two heads.
“What the hell is walk-obble?”
“Walking and hobbling. Trust me, I’m a pro at this,” I say and stand. When I reach a new oxygen level, I wobble just a little from not only standing too fast but from everything that’s happened this evening. If I was left in my own misery, I’m pretty sure I’d have a pizza on the way. While I waited, I’d curl up and watch TV and cry for a good few minutes. This day might be going in my history book of crappy days. My hand braces me against the hallway as I shuffle down toward my bedroom. Right when I open the door all my cats dash out, leaving a trail of fur behind them. Insert the fit of sneezing that continues until I just give up and plop down on my bed.
I’m tired…
So tired…
Oh, and hungry…
I don’t have the energy to scoot toward the headboard, nor stand back up to get my pajamas. I know in a few minutes I’m going to pass out and it’s the end of everything that I knew it to be today. At this point, I have one of two choices. One, I can stand on my own and try to make it over to my dresser and pray I don’t fall face first to the floor. Two, I can call Greyson in to help and then kick him out so I can change in privacy. The longer I sit here neither will get done. I push myself up from the bed and wait a few minutes before moving. My head spins, and all I can think about is food and sleep—not in any order either. I could sleep then eat. The other thing that’s spinning around in my head is what am I to do with Greyson. Standing, I decide that it’s better to just face defeat. “Greyson,” I yell and plop back down on my bed in defeat.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have screamed his name because from the looks of his face right now standing in my doorway, he might’ve had a heart attack. Great… I’m going to kill the handsome doctor before I can even figure him out. No… No… No… Sherry, there is nothing here to figure out. Stop that horny, tired, and hungry mind of your right now.
“What? Are you okay? What’s wrong. Need me to take you to the ER?”
“Oh my God, for a doctor you are very dramatic, has anyone ever told you that?”
“No, they haven’t, but you make me that way.”
“Sorry, I just need help getting my clothes from the top drawer of my dresser. I went to stand and got dizzy. Plus, I’m tired and hungry,” I say with more of a whiny voice than I anticipated.
“I can handle all of those except for the sleepy part. I’m pretty sure your medicine and the Epi-pen have kicked in. Your face looks better,” he states, walking past me which causes me to cut my eyes in his direction. Who says something like that to a person in my predicament. Shaking my head, I watch as he pulls out the top set of pajamas and hands them to me. Greyson stands before me like he’s waiting for me to either ask for help dressing or to excuse him. In a roll my eyes kind of way, I say, “You can leave now and go back upstairs.”
“I’ll let you dress, and go order some pizza. What do you like on yours?” I can’t even respond to him at this moment; it’s like this bad dream that won’t stop. Instead, I plop backward against my bed and cover my face.
Greyson’s hand touches my leg, causing me to jump from the mere act of affection. Letting out a sigh, I peek through my fingers at him. He’s straddling the corner of my bed, leaning down as if he’s waiting for me come out of hiding.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Why are you here? Don’t you have anything better to do than to hang out here and babysit me? Honestly, I’m fine and will just eat and go to sleep until my alarm wakes me in the morning.” My voice is muffled from my hands, and I’m not sure if he understood me or if I sounded like a cartoon character.
“Maybe I want to get to know you better, and I’m using this as an excuse.”
“This won’t work.”
“Never know unless we give it a go. I don’t know what it is about you, Sherry, but you make me want to break all the rules of ethics and morals.”
“I’m going on the record now that I’m a hot mess and this is going to end badly… Just so you understand. Not to mention, I’m royally screwed if we continue to get to know each other. I can’t find a new doctor,” I say as if I’m pleading for him to leave. No, I take that back, I’m mentally willing him to go. I don’t think at this moment I have it in me to say no to him. Not to mention, if his hand moves any further up my leg, I might just hop up and drag him down on top of me. That’ll be something else. I can see it ending a different way than it should. I’d end up head butting him and knocking us both out.
“So what do you like on your pizza?”
“Meat lovers, extra cheese and… Yep, that’s all.”
“What’s the and?”
“I like pineapple, but Ava hates it; well, most people do. Just get meat lovers, and I’ll be happy.”
“You’re in luck, I love pineapple on my pizza. Now, change and I’ll be back in a few,” he says, removing his hand from my leg. This simple act leaves me feeling empty. Like he was transferring positive energy into my soul. Pushing up on my elbows, I watch him exit my room— taking my breath with him. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what his end game is—or for that matter—what mine is. It’s like I need to tattoo my rules on the palm of my hand so I can remember that Greyson Davis is not the one for me. No matter how much my tunnel protests against it, I can’t give into this. I have this mental image of being at his parents’ house, enjoying dinner while the whole time I’m wondering what his dad is thinking. Would he tell his son about my exams? How deep my tunnel is? No, that would be wrong and violate ethics. Still, I need to find a way around this.
Sliding my shirt off, I toss it over toward the hamper before I dress in my pajama top. Before I stand, I take a moment to gather myself and begin to shimmy out of my pants. Satisfied that I’m covered and not in the least bit attractive in my Smurf-covered body. Yes, the top set was a royal blue baby doll top and Capri pants that match but are white and have Smurfs all over the material. With my fuzzy socks in hand, I venture back out to where Greyson is sitting on the sofa, thumbing through his phone. I stand at the armrest opposite of him, taking in his lean, fit body. For just a moment, I allow my mind to wonder what it would be like to rub my fingers against his bare skin.