“Let me wrap it again while I’m here,” I offer. “Where’s the bandage?”
“It’s on the basin in my bathroom. I’ll go get it.”
“Stay,” I order. “You’re busy. Continue doing what you’re doing.” I rise from my stool and go back up the hall. When I walk into her room, memories of our time in here flood my mind. Fuck. I didn’t think being back here would be so hard.
I’m glad things are okay with us again. Having her near and not being able to act on my feelings is going to be hard. As much as I’d like to, we can’t repeat out little sex romp. She’s my friend and that’s all she’ll ever be. I need to get used to that.
I get a shock when I walk into her bathroom. Fuck me. It’s probably the size of my bedroom back home. Looking around, images of her laying in the huge-arse bath, lathering soap all over that heavenly body of hers, flash in my mind. I move my hand down to adjust my dick again.
Is it just because I’m on my longest dry spell ever, or is it something else…her? Whatever it is, I don’t fucking like it. No woman has ever affected me like this.
As I walk towards the basin to retrieve the bandage, my eyes move down to the small trash bin sitting beside it. The clothes she was wearing last night sit on top. Fuck if that doesn’t hit me right in the chest. I exhale. Thinking of what she must be dealing with internally to do something like that, is really screwing with my head.
I retrieve what I came in here for and go back out to her. At some point, we’re going to need to talk about last night, but for now I’ll give her some time. She’s obviously not dealing as well as she’s making out.
What I want is for her to take this further, to report it. I’m not sure how it will pan out, considering how high Benson’s father is in the police force. He’s a dirty fucker too. Pops and the boys have dealt with him many times in the past.
It’s worth a try though. She can’t let him get away with what he did. If he thinks it’s okay to force himself on a woman, then he’s likely to try it again. The next girl may not get away.
When I make my way back into the kitchen, I find her trying to beat the eggs with her left hand. “Here, give me that,” I say as I place the bandage on the benchtop and reach for the bowl.
Once that’s done, she adds the chopped ingredients to the bowl with a dollop of cream, grated cheese and some salt and pepper. I can’t wait to fucking try this omelette. Mine usually consist of eggs and milk. That’s it.
She adds some butter to the pan, and after giving it another beat, I pour it in for her. While it’s cooking I strap her hand again. “How are you feeling today?” I ask while wrapping the bandage around her wrist. She shrugs.
“Okay, I guess. I’m not looking forward to Uni on Monday though,” she confesses.
“Don’t you worry about that. I won’t leave your side, I promise. If that fucker even looks your way he’ll have me to deal with.”
She raises her head and smiles at me. One of her beautiful smiles too. “Thank you. I’m so grateful for…”
“Shhh,” I say as my hand trails a path down her arm, my fingers wrapping around hers. “No need to thank me.” Every part of me wants to pull her into my arms and kiss those luscious fucking lips of hers, but I can’t. So I do the only thing I can. I move away. Keeping my distance is best. I hope this gets easier. It hasn’t even been a day and I’m already struggling.
CHAPTER TEN
Angel
Once I pull the omelette out from under the grill after browning the top, I slide it onto a large plate. I grab two forks out of the drawer and go and sit next to Chase at the breakfast bar.
“Dig in,” I say as I hand him a fork. He just looks between the plate and me a few times, like he’s shocked. Then his lips turn up in a smile. Maybe I should’ve given us separate plates, but this is the way my dad and I always eat our omelettes. We’ve been doing this for as long as I’ve been able to make them. Even before that, my mum would serve it up to us the same way.
I watch as he takes a chunk out of the side, popping it in his mouth. “Mmmm. Fuck this is good,” he says with his mouth full. It makes me smile. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“My mum. She’s a great cook.”
“So you can cook other things as well?”
“Just about anything,” I reply as I cut a piece of omelette off with my fork.
“Pops and I live on frozen dinners most nights, unless we eat at the club. That shit’s not much better though.” This is the first time he’s ever really talked about his personal life with me. I like that he’s opening up a bit.