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by Jennifer Ryder

  Rocco winces as I help him place the small cool pack on his eye.

  “One of the doctors will be with you in a moment, lovey,” the nurse says, before swaying her rounded hips out of the curtained area, leaving us alone.

  We wait for at least twenty minutes, and still there’s no sign of anyone. Thank God Rocco has shut his mouth, because he was seriously doing my head in. He keeps looking at me strangely, so I keep scowling back.

  “So here we are,” he pipes in with.

  “Yeah, here we are.” I probably should say I’m sorry. If I did this to anyone else, I would have apologised profusely by now.

  “I’m real sorry about this,” I say quietly. There, I said it. Now, let’s move on.

  “Are you?” he asks, and folds his arms across his chest.

  My eyebrows pull together, and I curse myself for thinking I could apologise and that he would react like a normal person. “Of course I am.”

  “Okay, just checking.” He nods and smirks like an arse. I won’t react. He’s just baiting me.

  I rub the sides of my temples and take in a deep breath, shaking as it fills my lungs. I look around, and there’s not a single soul at the nurses’ station. Where the hell is everyone?

  “Seriously? They’re lucky you’re not bleeding to death,” I mutter. I’m lucky he’s not. How much blood do you need to lose before they have to do a blood transfusion?

  “Chillax, Suds. I’m good. I’m sure I just need a couple of stitches and then we can piss off out of here.”

  “You’re relaxed about needles? How can you be?” I hate that stuff. I’m the kind of girl that always has to look away when shit like this happens in movies. Needles. Blood. Gore. Not my cup of tea.

  “Do you see my ink? Clearly I don’t have a problem with them.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  He lifts up his shirt and shows me the writing on his ribs.

  “You see this tatt?”

  “Yeah.”

  He takes my hand and runs it over his ribcage. It’s an intricate script in a foreign language. Italian?

  “What does it say?” I ask as I trace over the words Fratellino and La Famiglia.

  “In great detail it describes my cock. Long, good girth, powerful …”

  “Very funny arsehole. What does it really say?”

  He chuckles. “It’s about family. La famiglia.”

  “What does fratellino mean?”

  “Little brother.”

  “Oh.”

  “This tattoo hurt like hell. It was like the needle was grinding its way into my bones, but at the end of the day, in comparison to being stabbed in the eye with a flying dildo, it was like a tickle, really. Piece of piss.”

  “You dick,” I spit out, with a roll of my eyes.

  “You’ve had dick,” he teases.

  I remove my hand from his side, which was still there for some reason, and scrape my hands down my face. I’m strung out, exhausted, and at the end of my wits with Rocco. Just when I think he’s getting serious, sharing something of himself, it comes back to dick.

  Men.

  “I think you need someone to sedate you. I’ll call a nurse.”

  Before I get a chance, the pale blue curtain is whisked open.

  “Mr De Luca,” a familiar husky voice chimes.

  My jaw drops, and I simply stare at Rocco. I consider commando rolling to the floor and hiding under the bed. Unfortunately, I’ve missed my chance, and instead I move my hair so that it kind of covers my face.

  “I’m Dr Sainsbury. Let’s take a look at you.”

  Rocco cocks his eyebrow and smirks at me. It’s as if he can sense the uneasiness pouring out of me. Of course, his stare draws the good doctor’s attention. Shit a brick.

  “Sophie,” Bonnie gasps. I glance up to meet the confused expression on her face. She looks between us a few times, simply by moving her eyes, and then makes a ‘huh’ noise before looking at his chart.

  If you looked up the definition of awkward, this is what you’d see. A first-class description of the whole lot of awkward that’s going on here. I know Bonnie works here, but that thought didn’t enter my mind. Not even for a second. I just drove on autopilot to the nearest hospital, to save Rocco from bleeding to death and me from emptying the contents of my stomach everywhere and making a right mess.

  “What’s brought you here this evening?” she asks Rocco.

  “Suds here threw her big dilly at me and knocked me out.”

  Insert silent, hell-awkward pause here.

  “O … kay.” She reaches for her white coat pocket and takes out a pen-light, then flashes it in each of his eyes in a side to side motion. “Were you unconscious for long?”

  “Nah. I’m fine. Sometimes we get a bit rough, but that’s the way we like it, hey honey?” he says.

  My palm makes a slapping noise as I bring it forcefully to my forehead. I am without words. The arsehole has rendered me speechless.

  Damn you, De Loser!

  With the snap of latex, Bonnie secures some white gloves and takes a look at the cut.

  “If I had known there were beauties like this in the ER, I would have hurt myself long before now,” Rocco says, as he tries to look down her black and white-spotted blouse.

  Really? One second he’s calling me honey, as if we’re together, and the next he’s trying to hook up with her? He truly has no filter, no idea how he comes across—or does he?

  “What time do you finish?” His voice turns smooth, with a hint of mischief.

  Boy, does this guy have some gall. Does anything besides his dick ever come to the forefront of his mind?

  “Mr De Luca, I don’t date patients … or men,” she adds. She slowly turns her expressionless face towards me and then turns her attention back to him. “Sophie can attest to that.” Her tone is curt, intending to cut me. Why did she have to throw our failed relationship out there like that, and in front of him? I don’t need Rocco coming out with uncomfortable questions about us, and what we had.

  “Wow,” Rocco says, through a chuckle. He bites his lip, as if he’s trying not to burst out laughing.

  “I think with three stitches, you’ll be fine,” Bonnie says, back to business. “I’ll just get a suture kit.” She stands, takes off her gloves, tosses them in the waste bin beside the bed, and then leaves.

  “Why did you do that?” I whisper-growl.

  “What?”

  “Make out like we’re together?”

  He shrugs. The cocky bastard has nothing to say for himself?

  “We’re never gonna hook up,” I tell him. I need that to be clear.

  “And why’s that?” he challenges.

  “I don’t do dick.”

  “Ah, but you have done dick, something you’ve kept to yourself.”

  “Correction, then. I will never do dick again.”

  “Never say never.”

  Oh my God.

  “Can we drop this?”

  I stand up and move outside the curtain. I jump when Bonnie appears right beside me. “Have you got a minute?” she asks with a jerk of her head in the direction behind her.

  I huff. “Sure.”

  Thankfully she moves a few steps away, with any luck out of Rocco’s earshot.

  “What are you doing with this guy? Should I be concerned?” she asks in a hoarse whisper.

  “No need for you to worry,” I scoff. “I’m fine.”

  “Does he have a substance abuse problem?”

  What? Where is this coming from? I narrow my eyes at her. I know he has a huge tequila problem, but from what I can tell he’s not into drugs. “Why the hell would you suggest that?”

  “He looks like the type. Tattoos, piercings. He doesn’t exactly look healthy. The whites of his eyes aren’t exactly white.”

  “Geez, way to judge, Bon.”

  “Guys like him are here in hospital all the time, one OD after another. Don’t be disillusioned.”

  “Do you hear yourself? Give the g
uy a break. You know nothing about him.”

  “Ah, so I’m guessing it’s true then,” she says, with a hand to her hip.

  “What?” I spit out.

  “You two are together, otherwise why would you be championing for him? Is that what you left me for?” She motions her hand flippantly in his direction.

  “It’s none of your business what I do, or who I’m with.”

  “What happened to your dream, Sophie? The one you were so hell bent on.” She leans in close, her warm breath teasing at the shell of my ear. “Are you using him to fall pregnant?” she whispers.

  Fuck me. She thinks that?

  “I’m not doing this. Can you just stitch him up?” I need to get him out of here, because I’m not entering into any further conversation with her. I’m finished. A thousand times over.

  “Fine.” She walks off and I storm back to the bed, whipping the curtain closed around us.

  Rocco looks a little pale, but it doesn’t seem to affect his ability to smile like a fool.

  “That’s the ex?” he whispers, as I sit down beside him.

  “Yup.”

  “Nice. You two would have looked pretty fuckin’ hot together.”

  “We did.”

  “What’s this dream she was talking about?”

  Dammit, the fucker heard us. And probably heard the accusation of him being a druggy too. Nice. If by chance Rocco heard her comment about me using him to get knocked up, and he brings it up, I will deny it until my last breath.

  The curtain moves, and Bonnie pushes in a round leather stool on wheels.

  Saved by the doctor.

  We all sit in silence as Rocco is stitched up.

  A young nurse, with blonde hair in a bun and perfect skin, joins us just as Bonnie is taking off her gloves. “Dr Sainsbury,” she says, with a shy look and a bat of her lashes.

  A soft smile ensues on Bonnie’s face as the two share a silent conversation with their eyes. The nurse gathers rubbish for the hazardous waste bin beside the bed. She takes her gloves off, and then writes something down on Rocco’s chart.

  Bonnie brushes behind her, and I swear the nurse shudders. I’d bet my last dollar there’s something going on with them. Has Bonnie moved on, or is she simply playing the game because I’m here with Rocco?

  Before too long Rocco is discharged under my care, with instructions to keep a close eye on him during the next twelve hours.

  When I reach my car door, I pause before we get in, staring at Rocco over the roof. “We never speak of this again. Got it?’ I bark at him.

  He swings open his door and gets inside. I do the same, anxious for his reply.

  “Why not, Suds? It’s funny as fuck.”

  I turn to him, with my index finger pointing directly at his side. “I’m serious. I will gut you like a fish if you breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “I guess I’d better take down that Facebook post, then.”

  “What? You’d better be fucking with me.”

  “Kidding! I don’t even have an account. Why do you have to take everything so literally?”

  I rest my head against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. Tonight has been …” I breathe out heavily and think of what it is I’m trying to say here. “It’s been crazy.”

  I couldn’t explain it any other way if I tried.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ROCCO

  Something changed tonight. Something shifted. I now have a hot part-time lesbian living under my roof.

  Earlier tonight I’d tried to get off in my room. Hearing her moans had added to my pleasure, but then I got curious. I had to make sure she wasn’t having a bad dream, because she was moaning … like a lot. I won’t lie; I was kinda hoping I could help her out with whatever she was doing in there. I didn’t expect to be knocked out for it.

  I can’t wait to see the look on Jones’s face when I see him tomorrow. The prick is gonna laugh his arse off when he sees the state I’m in.

  Tonight has by far been one of the weirdest fucking nights of my life.

  The more time I spend around this chick, the more it has me thinking. Some of the things she said tonight are troubling me. I don’t get sentimental about shit, it’s not in my blood, but Soph has me curious.

  “Why did you stick up for me?” I ask in all seriousness as we drive out of the hospital car park. She had the opportunity to badmouth me, and she could’ve said I have a problem with alcohol, which I do, yet she defended me instead?

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “Your ex assumed I was a junkie, some kind of addict.”

  “I fucking can’t stand judgey people. They make me sick,” she spits out. I don’t have time for hoity-toity people either, but clearly, Suds has been judged. By just her parents, or others as well? “Fuck ’em, I say.”

  “Yeah, fuck ’em.”

  “Why didn’t you set her straight when she asked about us?”

  “Because my business stopped being hers when we broke up. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a deep and meaningful conversation with her tonight.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Just because I didn’t set her straight, don’t go getting any funny ideas.”

  I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, not thinkin’ a single thing,” I lie, because I can’t help but obsess over the fact that she’s not repulsed by the idea of there being a thing between us. Not that I ever get serious. Not anymore. It’s better to keep things strictly about sex. No expectations of something more. No sappy feelings, no relationship. Those things don’t exist in my world. Yeah, it’s a fucking lonely place here, but at least I can’t get fucked over. Trinity did a great job of that; she burned me bad. I won’t put myself in that position again.

  ****

  “Have a couple of these for the pain,” Suds says, placing a couple of white round pills in my palm.

  My hand shakes as I bring the glass of water to my lips, spilling some onto the kitchen floor.

  “Are you cold?” she asks. Her green eyes wander over the bare skin of my arms. You won’t find any goosebumps, love.

  Look at Suds being all worried about me. Who’d have thought she’d care? I think I’ve exhausted the anger out of her. I can’t say it wasn’t fun getting her to this point. I may get a little more mileage over tonight’s event than I first thought.

  I swallow the tablets, and wipe the water from my lips with the back of my hand. “Nah, just thirsty, you know?”

  “You can’t have these with alcohol,” she chirps.

  I didn’t have to spell it out for her, did I? I nod in acknowledgment.

  “See how you go with these, and if you’re still in pain in a few hours, you can have another two.” She reaches up and grabs my earlobe. “You’re missing an earring.”

  “It was a piece of shit, anyway. Must’ve come out when I was down for the count.”

  I walk up towards the bedrooms.

  “I’ll help,” Suds offers.

  We both scan the hallway floorboards for the rogue black earring. In jeans and a baggy hoodie sweatshirt, Soph gets down on her knees and checks the floor.

  “You find it yet?”

  No, Suds. Because I’m too busy watching that fine arse of yours as you crawl around on all fours.

  I crouch down beside her and pretend to look for it. Really, I don’t give a shit if I find it or not.

  Soph stands up and walks over to her bed. She turns to me with a handful of fake cock.

  “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to use this again without thinking of you,” she says, finishing it with a soft laugh.

  Winning. I bet she’ll think of me next time she has that fat-boy dilly inside her.

  “That’s the nicest thing a chick has ever said to me,” I say, holding a hand over my heart.

  “Urgh, that’s not what I meant, you idiot.”

  Seeing her standing there with that toy in her hand has my mind delving to the darkest of places. Double penetration.
Tying her up. Sucking on that sweet pussy while I drive the dildo inside her. Coming all over her plump, perky-as-fuck tits. She’s a greedy bitch if she plays with toys like this. She knows what she wants, and I love that she wasn’t afraid to get vocal and take care of herself. She’s not some stuck-up prude. She’s standing there with it, waving it around like it’s no big deal. She has no idea how much this is fucking turning me on.

  And that ex-girlfriend of hers? Sweet mother of Christ, I would have paid my last penny to watch those two in action.

  I clear my throat and adjust the crotch of my jeans. “Just admit it and we’ll both sleep easier.”

  “Good night,” she says, her voice softer this time. She pauses with her hand on the doorway, staring at me. “Can you promise me something?”

  “What?”

  “That next time you’ll knock?”

  “Maybe.”

  “If you do it again, I’ll take my strap-on and peg you. Got it?”

  “You’ll peg me?” What the hell?

  “It’s a nice way of saying I’ll fuck you up the arse with a strap-on.”

  That stern look on her face tells me she’s not exactly joking. I’m tempted to intrude on her privacy sometime in the near future to test her conviction on this. “That a promise?”

  She laughs and places her hands on her hips, and then her shoulders slump. In the short time we’ve been home, the dark circles beneath her green eyes are more visible.

  “I think we’ve had enough sex-toy shenanigans for one day, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ll try to stay away if you’ll just try and keep the noise down, huh?”

  She laughs and picks up her nighty off the floor.

  “Were you lucid when you grabbed my boobs?” she asks, holding up the nighty from each strap. It’s as see-through as I remember, enhancing those spectacular tits.

  My dick hardens, just like it did when I grabbed those sweet puppies. “I’ll never tell.”

  ****

  I lie back in bed and stare at the ceiling. There’s no mistaking that my hands are shaking. Nervous energy is working its way though my system. The pills Suds gave me are dulling my senses, but nowhere near as much as I need.

  I wanna drink so fucking bad.

  But a part of me doesn’t. It’s weird.

  Is it that I don’t want to disappoint Suds? She knows I have a problem. I know I have a problem. She doesn’t treat me any differently because of it. If anything, she calls me on it, but not in such a way to get my back up.