by Deja Voss
Chapter Twelve
Brass:
I pull the pan of chicken breasts out of the oven, flip them over, and sprinkle them with seasoning before I put it back in. I stir the pot of rice I have going on the stove adding in just a little bit more chicken broth, and go back to the cutting board, dicing up the veggies before tossing them in a frying pan with olive oil.
“What are you doing in here? It smells amazing,” she asks from the corner of the kitchen. I can tell by the way she’s grimacing it hurt her to walk out here, and I want nothing more than to pick her up and take her back to bed, but the doctor said she needs to start walking around more or she could end up with blood clots and a bunch of other problems.
She’s definitely on the mend after two weeks of mostly bed rest, fluids, and getting prodded daily by doctors and physical therapists.
“Doing some meal prep,” I say. “Saves me a bunch of time the rest of the week if I don’t have to cook every day.”
She looks at me like I just told her I’m working on a bachelor degree from clown school. “You eat the same thing every day for a week? I don’t even keep enough groceries in my house to last me a day. Look at you all responsible and organized!”
She hobbles her way over to the kitchen table and flops herself down in a chair with a loud groan.
“It’s just me usually. It’s cheaper that way and I know I’m eating what I’m supposed to be eating.”
“Of course you’d be like that.” She shakes her head and smiles. It’s obvious her glimmer is back. I always loved the way she wasn’t afraid to tease anybody, how she wasn’t afraid to call anybody out on their bullshit. “Nobody looks like you do on accident.”
I take a fair amount share of shit about my workout and eating routine from my brothers. They don’t understand why I’m so anal, and I guess I really don’t either. All I know is I like being in control of myself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. I know exactly what it means. I can feel her eyes on my biceps. I like to see her blush, though. I want her to tell me she likes what she sees.
“It means, I’m gonna need your help getting back into shape when all this bullshit is over. You think you could make a meal plan for me?”
“You don’t need a meal plan, Jewel.” Truth is, I wouldn’t wish this level of hyper anal obsession over my food and workouts on anybody. It started off as a cure, but now it’s more of a disease. “I did make you a little something special for today, though. Doctor said you’re good to start eating real food.”
I open up the crockpot and scoop out a ladle full of chicken noodle soup for her. I set it in front of her at the table and she looks up at me with wide eyes like she doesn’t know what to do.
“You made this for me?” She leans over, closing her eyes and breathing in the delicious smell of broth and veggies.
“I had the stuff to make it, and I figured it was something everyone could pick at when they stop over.”
“You made this for me,” she insists, grinning from ear to ear.
“I did. You remember what you asked me for on the ride over here?”
She turns a brighter shade of red. “I don’t remember anything about that ride over here, and I kind of would like to keep it that way.”
My adrenaline was the only thing that made that trip possible. That, and my need to protect her. “You didn’t say anything bad. Just that you wanted chicken noodle soup and a bubble bath. I promised you as soon as you were allowed I’d make it happen.”
She pouts her lips and sighs. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky to have you around, Brass. Whoever assigned you to keep an eye on me really knew what they were doing. You have to be getting tired of hanging around here, though. I know I’m not exactly entertaining right now.”
I hand her a spoon and pour her a glass of water. “I’m not here all the time,” I say. I’ve been to work, I’ve been to the gym, I’ve been to church. She doesn’t need to think I’m a creep who watches over her every second of every day, even though I probably would if the doctors would let me.
She takes a bite of the soup and groans. “This is… the best soup ever…” she says. “How did you learn to cook like that?”
“It’s nothing. Eat up. There’s plenty.”
I try to pretend like I’m not watching her as I busy myself stir frying my veggies. I lay out my Tupperware containers, three for every day of the week. There’s something so oddly satisfying about seeing her so contentedly eating the soup, like I actually did something right for the first time in my life - like I’m actually helping her get better instead of just being the lunk that hangs around in the background just in case somebody tries to break in.
I wish life could be this simple all the time, just her and I. I do things that make her happy, she makes me happy just by existing, we don’t have to worry about anything else. Just two people in a bubble.
“You want some more?” I ask as she tips up the bowl to her lips and slurps down the last of the broth like a starving woman.
“I can get it myself,” she says. “You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. I’m getting better.”
“I know you are. In fact, when the doctor left today he said you could have the other part of your wish.” I scoop another ladle full of soup into her bowl.
“Chicken wings and pizza?” she asks with a shrug.
“Bubble bath. All your stitches are out and he left a bag here for your cast.”
“Yes…” she whispers, pumping her fist in the air. “I don’t know how anybody can take the smell of me right now. I feel like a moldy bag of diapers.”
“Gin is going to come over later and help you.”
“I gotta wait for her?” she asks with a pout. I put my fist to my lips.
“Jewel I will happily bathe you,” I say. “I just don’t want you think I’m overstepping. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen your uhh… I mean…” I stop before I dig myself a deeper hole.
“Right right,” she says quickly, pushing her bowl away. She’s avoiding eye contact and I’m avoiding eye contact and I know I just took this perfect moment and fucked it all up. “When you brought me here I was missing my clothes. That’s what you meant. You weren’t talking about that, uhh… other time.”
“Nope, definitely wasn’t talking about that other time. Gosh, golly, I like totally forgot about that,” I say dramatically. It sounds really fucking dumb coming out of my mouth, because we both know it’s bullshit. Who the fuck says gosh golly, even? Truth is, I never once forgot about that night. I spent the last year wondering if maybe there was something more to it than just the two of us being drunk and needy, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Same,” she says. “Forgot all about it.”
She stands up from the table but loses her balance, her legs falling out from underneath her. I rush over and grab her in my arms before she can hit the floor. “I was trying to run away,” she says, laughing nervously, her face inches from mine. “You got me all worked up, Brass.”
She tucks her head into my arm, and the blush of her face is really fucking adorable.
“Why are we like this?” I ask. “We’re both fucking adults. Why can’t we talk about stuff like rational human beings?” I hug her as gently as I possible can, wishing I could wrap my arms around her forever. I’ll take this little moment of awkward tenderness over an awkward one night stand any day, even though I know it’ll be worse for my heart in the long run.
“Because I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely not a rational human being. You’re gonna laugh when I say this, but all this time you’ve been by my side while I try and get better, I kind of thought maybe it was because you liked being around me? I know it’s probably just the drugs talking but you’ve really gone above and beyond. It’s like for the first time in my life somebody actually listened to what I needed and gave a fuck enough to stick around and help me. I know it’s silly. I know you’re just doing the right thing because it’s w
ho you are.”
The look on her face is a mixture of confusion and concern, and she’s just so beautiful, I can’t resist any longer.
I bring my lips to hers, knowing if I don’t shoot my shot now, I’ll spend the rest of my life in the friend zone. Fuck the consequences, fuck the noise. I kiss her softly, but it’s electric. Everything I felt for her the night of Barney’s funeral is still there. It’s even more intense than before knowing he’s dead and gone and right this minute, it’s just the two of us here in this house.
“Holy shit,” she murmurs as I pull away.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I can’t spend another day pretending like I’m not fucking crazy about you, Jewel. I always have been, I just… didn’t know how you felt. You know how many times I wanted to grab you and kiss you? You know how painful it is for me to even be around you knowing you aren’t mine?”
She smiles up at me, softly bringing her lips to mine and my heart damn near stops. Time definitely stops. The room doesn’t exist and neither does everything that brought us to this place. She doesn’t have to say a word. She’s sealed everything I’ve been feeling with one taste of her lips.
Chapter Thirteen
Jewel:
I’m burning up inside like a teenage girl who just had her first kiss. It’s not just the fact that Brass is definitely the sexiest man I’ve ever put my mouth on.
It’s how he is with me. All that muscle, all those tattoos, the way he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty for the club, the way he looks like the kind of guy you definitely couldn’t take home to your father… Brass has never been that way with me. With me, he’s always been so tender and caring, and I just assumed that’s how he was with all the women in the club.
Now I’m thinking maybe that’s not the case.
Now I’m thinking there’s a whole world of layers to Brass and I’ve only chiseled the tip of the iceberg. In this moment I want it all.
My body definitely wants more as I pull away from this fiery kiss. I want him to take me, use me, fuck me up against the wall until I black out, but my mind knows better. I’m in no condition. He knows it, too. It’s like he can read my mind the way his hands only hold me in places where I’m not hurt, the way he delicately hoists my body off the ground and carries me to the bathroom.
He sits me on the edge of the bathtub without saying a word and starts to run the water, putting the back of his hand underneath it and adjusting the knobs. I watch with fascination because I never noticed this before, but everything he does, he seems to take so seriously. From the way he was flipping his vegetables in the pan to the way he reads the back of the bottle of bubble bath before measuring out two perfect capfuls, it’s like everything he does needs to be perfect.
I squeeze my thighs together thinking about how that translates into the bedroom as I watch the muscles in his forearms ripple as he twists the cap back on the bubble bath.
He grabs the plastic bag the doctor gave him and gingerly pulls it up over my cast. I reach back to untie the back of my hospital gown with my other arm and he looks away as I slide it off over my body.
“Are you shy now or something?” I ask with a soft laugh. “Or is it because I’m so hideous?” I’ve seen enough of the bruises and scars on my body to know I’m not exactly in my best form right now, and nobody has yet to let me look in the mirror. Surprisingly, I don’t miss my ear much, but maybe that’s because I haven’t seen it yet.
“You’re not hideous, Jewel,” he says with a grunt. He looks me up and down, taking in my entire naked body like he’s studying a map. It’s weird how un-sexual it feels. “You’re fucking gorgeous. This ain’t about what I want right now, though. It’s about making you feel good. Now get in the water.”
He helps me slide off the edge, lowering me into the tub and I inadvertently moan as my eyes roll back in my head. After three weeks of basically getting sponged down on a daily basis, this feels like heaven on earth. I reach up and pull my hair out of the ratty nasty bun that’s been propped up on my head this whole time, gagging a little bit as I run my fingers through my oily scalp.
I sink down underneath the water as far as I possibly can, head and all while I try to keep my cast above the water. He’s shaking his head at me and laughing when I come back up.
“I hate asking you for anything, Brass. You’ve been so amazing, but do you think maybe you could help me wash my hair? It feels like I’m growing dreadlocks up here.”
He grabs a bottle of shampoo from the shelf and starts reading the back of it.
I giggle. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Read the directions? It’s shampoo. You just squirt it and rub it in. That’s it. It’s no different than what you use on your head.”
“Doctor said you’re allergic to lanolin. He said it’s in a lot of cosmetics and soaps. Gotta check and make sure it’s not in any of this stuff. Otherwise your skin is gonna get irritated and infected.”
“Is that so?” I ask. “I never even heard that word before. Guess you learn something new every day. Thank God you were paying attention.”
The shampoo bottle looks so tiny in his big hands and I’m nearly salivating over the idea of feeling them running through my scalp, but there’s so much more to it than that. This man cared enough to pay attention to an allergy I didn’t even know I had to a thing I never even heard of? It’s overwhelming. It’s sweet and it’s hot and I don’t feel like I deserve any of this.
He grabs a cup and starts pouring some water over my hair as I tilt my head back. When he starts to run his fingers through my hair, lathering me in shampoo, I try not to literally purr, but it feels so amazing. “You don’t know how good that feels,” I moan as he draws circles on my scalp with his fingers. “You’re really good at that.”
“Good,” he says.
He could literally ask me to do anything right now and I’d agree. His touch is so magical, so unexpected and yet so absolutely fitting for him, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. It almost makes the hell I went through worth it just for this instant with him.
“Why are you doing all this?” I ask.
I’m not used to guys being nice to me unless they want something more. I’m not used to guys even liking me unless they think they’re going to get something out of it. Every relationship I’ve been in has been transactional. What can I give you and what do I get in return be it a place to live, great sex, tip money? I know I have absolutely nothing to offer right now, and it makes me uncomfortable.
“Cuz I want to,” he says. His fingers tangle tighter in my hair and he tugs just a little bit and my core throbs. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He has me exactly where he wants me, I just never realized this was the place I was supposed to be. “Cuz I should’ve done this a long time ago, Jewel. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, you just never let me in.”
“Oh Brass,” I sigh. “You’re really sweet. I just don’t know what your fixation is. You deserve so much more. I don’t know the difference between a carbohydrate and a carburetor. I’m a disaster. You should be with somebody on your level, not somebody you have to literally bathe.”
He pulls my hair a little harder, leaning his face down next to mine. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow scratches up against my neck. “Nobody talks about my girl like that.”
The words hit me in the heart and in the stomach. His girl. I know they’ve been tapering me off my pain medications but I feel like I missed something.
“I like the way that sounds,” he says, running his fingers over my lips. My skin turns into goosebumps even under the warm water. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re crazy,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“Damn right, I am. I think you’re crazy, too,” he says, tracing his fingers down my chest. I wonder if he can feel how fast my heart is beating. I can smell his spicy aftershave and I sink my head back into his firm chest, staring up at him, studying his gorgeous face. “You aren’t af
raid of me.”
“I’m really not afraid of anything. Nobody can take anything away from you if you don’t have anything to lose.”
He presses his lips to the top of my head and rests his fingers on my stomach. I love the way his grip feels on my flesh, like he’s claiming something beloved, like he’s holding on to something important. It makes me feel precious, even though I know it won’t be long before all this blows up in our face.
I guess I am afraid of one thing, and that’s him finding out who I truly am, because then I’ll lose the only thing I ever had worth keeping.
Chapter Fourteen
Brass:
* * *
“Pick me out some clothes?” she asks. “I’m not picky.”
She’s lathering what she can of her body in this lotion that smells like lemons and sunshine and it drives me fucking wild.
If I had my way, she’d be spending the rest of the day wearing nothing but that towel, but Gin and Rowdy are coming over for dinner. I fully and selfishly admit now that we’re on the same page, I want her all to myself. I don’t want to share her time with those two, even though they are our friends.
I know Rowdy has been following Floyd and his crew for the last few days without Bruiser knowing, and I’m curious what he’s found out. Hopefully we’ll be able to put all this to bed soon, even though I’d stay here in the safe house with Jewel for the rest of my life and not complain once.
I sort through the duffle bag of stuff Gin dropped off a few days ago, trying to pick out something for her to wear. I don’t really pay attention to what I’m grabbing, but I know I like her in shorts and I like the way this sweatshirt feels, kind of like an old dish cloth. I grab a pair of socks, too. I lay everything out on the bed and she laughs as she looks it over.
“Those are some interesting choices,” she says, “but I trust your judgement.”
