Batteries Not Included: A Romantic Comedy

by Christa Lynn

  “Calling Sarah,” Siri repeats, the phone dialing Sarah like it should.

  “Hey, chica, you ready for tonight?” she belts into the phone as she answers, no “hello” or anything.

  “Umm, no. I had a car accident today, and I’m in the ER, I need you to come get me.”

  “What? Are you all right?” she squeals, as I hear her scrambling for things and her keys rattling in the background.

  “I think so, so calm down. Don’t get in an accident getting here. I’m not sure when I’m breaking out, but I could use the company.”

  “Are they admitting you?” she asks as I hear her lock her door.

  “I hope not, my BP is high, so I have to try and stay calm or I will be.”

  “Well, you sound okay,” she says.

  “Concussion, and when you get here can you stop this fucking beeping?” I say as the beeping increases.

  “Calm down, I’m on my way.”

  “Thanks, Sarah.”

  “You know I’m here, and I should have known you’d figure out a way to get out of going tonight.”

  “Yeah, like I planned this.”

  “What happened?” she asks over her engine coming to life, another sports car that I can be jealous of.

  “Not sure, it was raining pretty hard, and I guess I hydroplaned, smacked into a telephone pole.”

  “Good Lord, Shelby. I told you that tadpole you have for a car wasn’t safe.”

  “Shut up and just get here,” I say, her quiet snicker sounding louder than it should. I lay the phone down at my side, wondering if I should call Michelle. No, she’s a worry wart and would be hovering and freaking me out. Sarah is a bit calmer, so she’s the better choice in this case. She lives about fifteen minutes from the hospital, so I expect her here in five with the way she drives.

  I lie back and try and calm myself, but before I can drift off to sleep, I feel a body next to me. I peek through cracked lids and see a tall man standing next to me. “Hello, Miss Mansfield, I’m Doctor Askew,” he introduces himself as he rolls a chair and sits next to me. I turn my head the best I can and see his white hair and day-old scruff. “You’re a lucky woman,” he says.

  “I don’t feel so lucky, in fact … luck is never on my side.”

  “Well, you’re lucky this time. Only a grade two concussion and some scrapes. Your nose isn’t broken, but I expect you’ll have a beautiful black eye. Other than that, you’re going to be fine.”

  I had completely forgotten about the bloody nose, but now this pressure in my face makes more sense. I lift my finger and gently touch the tender area below my right eye. “Did I hit the steering wheel?”

  “We assume so, yes.”

  “So, my airbags didn’t come out?”

  “Not according to the EMT, but that’s not unusual for a rear hit.”

  “Rear hit,” I mumble, thinking back and remembering my car spinning. Finally, it makes sense, I think.

  “Anyway, I understand you have someone coming to pick you up?”

  “Yes, my friend Sarah. She should be here any minute.”

  “Very well, I’ll get your discharge papers ready. Can you stay with her tonight?”

  “I think so,” I say.

  “Good, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” He’s gone in a flash, and I’m alone again. But not for long because Sarah comes sashaying into the stall where I’m hiding behind a curtain and flops on that same chair that the doctor just vacated.

  “Damn, you look like shit,” she says, which is comforting in a way.

  “Gee, thanks,” I say as I look her over. She’s wearing a cocktail dress and high heels. “You didn’t need to dress up for the occasion.”

  “I was already dressed for the club, and once we get you home and dressed, we’ll hit it.”

  “Fuck that, I have a concussion … and a black eye,” I say, pointing to my right eye.

  “Nothing that some good concealer can’t hide.”

  “I am not going,” I say. I want to go home and sleep.

  She pokes her bottom lip out, the electric-pink color almost blinding me. “Fine, I’ll drop you off.”

  “Doc wants you to stay with me,” I tell her, eyes falling.

  “Can’t you call Michelle?” she asks. Un-fucking-believable.

  “Look, it’s fine. Just drop me off at home, and you can be on your way. I don’t want to get in the way of your good time tonight,” I huff. I know she’s been looking forward to this night, but … Oh, never mind.

  She smirks, but she knows deep inside she’s not going tonight. “No, I can’t leave you alone. There’ll be other grand re-openings, somewhere.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined your evening,” I say, now getting emotional, and I hate emotions. Emotions bring you down, and I prefer to leave them at the door, but I guess I need to let it out before I explode. But I tamp it down and just sigh. It’s all I can muster at the moment.

  “You didn’t ruin it, I’m sorry I sounded like a selfish bitch. We’ll stop for pizza and hang out at your place,” she says as the doctor comes in with a stack of papers.

  “I’m going to take the neck brace off as the MRI came back fine,” he says as he reaches behind me and unclasps the bulky device.

  “MRI? When did I have an MRI?”

  “While you were unconscious. But all is good, I just need you to sign here and go over your aftercare,” he says as he nods to Sarah.

  “I’ll go get the car,” she says as she walks out.

  The doctor goes over my instructions, and I sign my life away. He helps me into a wheelchair, and I tell him, “I can walk.”

  “You know better than that,” he snorts. I know hospital procedure. Fuck procedure, I hate procedures. I'm all right, he as much said so. I should be able to walk my ass out of here, but I digress and sit my ass in the wheelchair as an orderly comes in to whisk me away.

  “Call us if you need to or if your head begins hurting, or your vision blurs.”

  “I will, thank you,” I say as the young blonde orderly pushes me out of the ER and to the waiting car. My lap holds my backpack and my hands keep the stack of papers given to me. I fold them up and shove them into my bag as the doors slide open and Sarah waits there in her Dodge Challenger. The souped-up car is shiny black with bright silver rims, and I swear it breathes. I can almost see it sucking air into its lungs and blowing it back out, an evil eye reflected in the headlights. Between her Challenger and Michelle’s Camaro, I’m outwitted in the car department. Hell, I don’t even have a car right now since it decided it liked the telephone pole more than me.

  I get it the car, and Sarah hits the gas, shooting us off like a rocket. “Easy, Mario Andretti, my head kind hurts a little. You can lay off the nitrous,” I groan as she takes the corner a little faster than my brain can handle.

  “Sorry,” she says as she lets off the gas. We roll into traffic, and I lean my head back and try to relax, but with Lead Foot McGee next to me, I can’t close my eyes. I’ve already met one telephone pole today—I don’t want to meet another one. My fingers grip on the door handle, holding on in case Sarah decides to do something stupid. We stop at the local pizza place and grab a pizza and some breadsticks before making it to my condo. Sarah pulls up in the guest parking spot out front, and we head up the stairs. I giggle inside a little seeing Sarah in her cocktail dress, sparkly silver stilettos, and carrying a pizza box. But she pulls it off, sort of.

  “You can grab some sweats and a t-shirt out of my room if you want to change. I’d hate for you to get pizza sauce on your dress.”

  She nods and runs upstairs, coming down quickly in my Spiderman pajama bottoms and a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, a drastic change from pale pink taffeta. Sarah is gorgeous and can pull off whatever she wants. I, on the other hand, cannot. My left boob is slightly larger than my right, so low cut dresses and t-shirts are a no-no. Sarah says she’s never noticed, but I can’t remember a time when she was that close to my tits to see it. She’ll just have to take my word f
or it.

  We scarf down the pepperoni pizza while watching a funny B-rated chick flick, laughing at the stupidity. I had to throw on an old pair of glasses just to see the TV. As the end credits roll, someone knocks on my door, and Sarah and I just look at each other, wondering which one is going to get up and get the door.

  “It’s your house,” Sarah smirks.

  “You’re my caregiver,” I smirk back as I shovel the past piece of pizza crust into my mouth.

  “Fine.” She grins as she gets up, brushing the crumbs off. She opens the door and speaks quietly, though I see her eyebrows raise out of the corner of my eye. She looks back, smiling as she opens the door. Standing there is the EMT from the bar and the accident scene. Fuck my life, he found me.

  She stands back and swipes her hand, welcoming him into my house. I guess that’s what I get for making her answer the door. I would have peeked through the peep hole and not answered it, holding my breath until he left.

  “Hey, I just wanted to stop by and check on you,” he says as his eyes meet my black one. “Ouch, got quite the shiner, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I say as my finger traces the bruise. “How did you find me?”

  “I worked your accident, remember?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Not surprising, you took a pretty good knock to the head.”

  “No shit. Oh, where is my car?” I ask, suddenly wondering where the Green Bean is.

  “It was towed away, did the police not give you the location?”

  “No, someone shoved me into an ambulance and took me away before they could give that to me,” I snark.

  “Right, well I can find out for you.”

  “No worries, but I do have one question for you.”

  “What’s that?” he answers as he moves closer to me. He’s still in uniform and a portion of a tattoo snakes out from under his sleeve on top of his massive bicep. My eyes are glued to his arm as he stands above me.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  Laughing, he says, “Nash Bennett.” He holds out his hand as if we’re meeting on the street for the first time. “Nice to meet you, Shelby Mansfield.”

  “So, why again are you here?” I ask, knowing he has to have an ulterior motive.

  “Oh, I found these in your car. Figured you might need them.” He smiles as he hands me my glasses. But he looks confused as I already have on glasses. My finger touches the plastic piece over my nose, and I push them back. “But I see … Are these not yours?” he asks, looking down at the maroon plastic frames in his hand.

  “Yeah, they’re mine. Thank you,” I say, holding my hand out to take the glasses, but his fingers brush up against mine and some sort of strange electric current runs through me. The hairs on my arms stand up, and a chill runs up my spine. He jerks his hand back as if I’ve burned him and he quickly puts his hands in his pocket. Our eyes meet, and I take him in; aqua eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea, not quite blue and not quite green. Dark blonde hair, a bit messy from his long day, and a light shadow dusting of scruff on his face. He’s actually very handsome. No, wait, he’s fucking gorgeous, and way out of my league.

  “Well, take care of yourself,” he murmurs as he turns to the door.

  “Thank you for bringing me my glasses,” I say as I take off the older pair and put them on. He turns back to look at me as his hand hits the doorknob.

  “I don’t remember you wearing glasses at the bar the other night, or at the scene of the accident.”

  I stare at him, as I’m not sure what exactly he’s getting at. Plus, my mouth is dry and full of cotton as his eyes pierce me. I feel a nudge on my shoulder and realize my best friend has just woken me out of a dream. Only, when I focus, it’s not a dream. This Nash Bennett dude is standing in my living room, staring at me, and all I can do is open my mouth and close it over and over, like a fish out of water.

  “Um, what did you say?” I stumble over my words.

  “Glasses,” he responds, his right eyebrow now cocked up higher than the other, a sexy smirk curving his lips.

  “Um, oh yeah, I wear contacts most of the time. But I woke up at the hospital without them, so …” I shrug.

  He nods and grunts, and I’m not sure why he grunts … but who am I to ask questions?

  “Well, take care,” he says as he opens the door. Sarah gets up from the sofa and walks to the door, the two of them whispering. I expect she’s making her move since I made it pretty obvious I’m not interested. She closes the door and sits back down, snatching the remote control from my hand.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes as she flips the channel, but a bold clearing of her throat jerks me out of my zone. “What?” I look at her incredulously.

  “What was that all about?” She smirks.

  “What was what all about?” I turn my head back to the TV, totally in denial.

  “You totally zoned out back there.”

  “Yeah, well I hit my head. I think a bang to the head and a black eye entitles me to zone out a bit,” I snap. I know what she’s referring to—she did the same thing at the bar when Nash tried to amputate my foot.

  She leaves it alone, thankfully, but only for now, I’m sure. Sarah doesn’t let things go that easily so I can be sure that once I’ve completely recovered, she’s going to let me have it. She always does, though I still haven’t figured out why. She’s a social butterfly, I’m a couch potato. How we actually get along, I’ve yet to figure out. She’s constantly trying to pull me out of my shell, but I always retreat. I like it in my shell—it’s warm and fuzzy.

  She hates it, but she’ll get over it. I’ve never been one for big crowds or dressing up, and when I do get out, it’s with her and a select few friends. No guys … no thanks. I’ve had boyfriends, and I’m far from a virgin, but they’re all the same. So, I decided I’d remain single and probably become an old maid. I’m fine with that, but Sarah battles me daily.

  She got excited when Nash sliced my foot open and even happier when she found out he worked my accident. And those eyes … Those eyes are amazing, but he’s more her type than mine. Hell, I don’t even have a type, and I’m good with that. If she wants him, she can have him.

  Chapter 4

  After the movie ends, we hit the hay. I climb into my bed, and she retreats to the guest room. I toss and turn most of the night, my body aching and my head pounding. My body is tight and coiled up, but those aqua eyes fill my vision. Well, my eyes are closed, but that’s all I can see. I try to open up my imagination and envision his body over mine, his eyes piercing and his hands all over me. It’s been way too long since I’ve relaxed enough to experience release. I run my hands down my body, plucking at my puckered nipples and exhaling a soft groan. I need to be quiet since Sarah is in the next room; that’s all I need is for her to hear me getting myself off.

  But at this point, I think it’s going to be the only way for me to relax. Maybe I should have pounced on Nash when he was here, but that would have been awkward. I’ll probably never see him again, so using his body in my imagination is exactly what I need to do. As I slide my finger between my folds, I realize I’m wetter than I’ve ever been—strung out and horny as hell. I push two fingers inside myself while imagining it’s one of Nash’s thick fingers stroking me. With one hand on my breast and one between my legs, my muscles quickly tighten up even more than they already are.

  “Fuck, I can’t even get myself off without stressing out,” I grumble as I reach into my bedside table for Fred. Fred is my little pink mini vibrator that I’ve had for years. It doesn’t get much use anymore, so when I turn it on, I get nothing. “Damn it, the batteries are dead,” I say as I drop it back into my drawer. Knowing I have some batteries in the kitchen, I slip out of bed and head down the hallway in the dark and find the AA batteries tucked in the back of the drawer.

  “You okay?” I hear Sarah at the end of the hallway, rubbing her eyes.

  “Yeah, okay. Just looking for something,” I say as I close t
he drawer and hide the two batteries in the palm of my hand.

  “At” —she squints at the clock— “three in the morning?”

  “Damn, it’s three o’clock?” I squeal, not realizing that I must have fallen asleep at some point and didn’t even realize it.

  “Yeah, three A.M. Shelby, go to bed,” she growls as she goes back into the guest room and shuts the door.

  I suddenly feel guilty for waking her up, so I stroll back into my room and drop the batteries in the bedside table and crawl back into bed. “So much for that,” I say to myself as I pull the covers back up over me. “I can’t do anything right,” is the last thing I say to myself before sleep pulls me back, no longer horny. I guess that’s a good thing because it usually doesn’t work anyway and knowing she’s in the next room would make it even harder. Plus, she’d never let me live that down if she overheard me.

  I finally manage to sleep, but I keep dreaming about him. I’m naked and on my knees, Nash thrusting into me, pounding me like the world is about to end. My body comes alive, and before I know it, I’ve reached orgasm, and my own moan wakes me up. I open my eyes and scan the room; the sun is up, and I’m alone. I chuckle at myself, but my pussy is wide awake now, and I take advantage of new batteries for my vibe.

  The clock says eight o’clock and I can’t get myself off because it’s daytime. I’m weird, I know. But I decide to try it anyway so I reach in and grab the pink toy and load the new batteries in it, the soft buzzing begins instantaneously, causing me to drop it. The buzzing is so intense that it bounces and dances across the floor in an angry manner, my hands jumping around trying to catch it. But it rolls under the table and the powerful vibrations against the wooden table echo through the darkness. “Damn it,” I sigh and get out of the bed, looking under the table toward the loud buzzing and reaching under to grab it.

  “Shelby, what are you doing?” Sarah says through a sleepy voice at the entrance to my bedroom. I’m on my knees, ass in the air, trying to silence my wayward vibrator that’s gone crazy under my end table.

  “Umm, I dropped something,” I say, finally wrapping my fingers around the pink bullet and shutting it off before landing on my ass. I hide the toy behind my back and smile. “I’m good, go back to bed.”