I twisted my fingers inside me, pressing hard on my clit until white spots finally danced in front of my eyes and I came. I bit down on my bottom lip, not wanting to admit the name I was holding back. I'd come thinking about him, but I wouldn't say his name out loud. Not if I could help it.
As I started to come down, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.
Well, fuck. That happened.
I pushed myself up off the bed and headed for the bathroom. I needed a long shower after that. And I had a bad feeling that even scalding myself for hours wouldn't make me feel any less dirty.
Chapter Twelve
Nori
I slept better last night than I had in a while. I told myself it was because I'd been working so hard that I was exhausted, but I knew that wasn't it. I'd been working my ass off for a while, and I'd still been plagued with insomnia. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, I knew it was actually because I'd finally given in and given myself some relief.
Fortunately, I didn't have to face that particular realization until after I'd woken up, so I was able to enjoy the benefits of a full night's sleep while I berated myself for having been so weak. I tried to tell myself that I was only human, tried to remind myself that it was just a fantasy, that it didn't matter. I'd never act on it for real.
None of that kept me from having all of my doubts circling in my head over and over again as I dressed and headed down to the kitchen. I really wanted to avoid him, keep myself on the third floor and not have to see him, but I knew that would just make matters worse. If I saw him, forced myself to talk to him, I would have to keep things professional.
It didn't make it any easier for me to walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, where X was already digging through the fridge. I took a slow breath and reminded myself that things didn't need to be weird between the two of us. Nothing happened.
Nothing in the real world, anyway.
“Morning,” he said as he carried a carton of eggs over to the stove.
“Good morning.” I hoped I didn't sound as stiff as I felt. I moved over to where he was standing. “I can do that.”
“I'm capable of making eggs for myself.”
I took a step back, trying not to be hurt by his tone.
“Hey, Nori, sorry.” X glanced at me before quickly returning his gaze to the pan in front of him. “I didn't mean to snap at you.”
I nodded and gave him a small smile. “I should've asked instead of assumed.”
I hated this. Hated how awkward I felt around him. I just wanted things to go back to normal, to the way they were supposed to be, where I didn't feel inappropriate things for someone I was supposed to be taking care of. Sort of.
“It's okay,” he said. “Not like I've exactly been the most cooperative of...patients.”
I almost flinched at the word.
“Pretty soon, you won't need my help at all.” The words came out without me planning on saying them.
There was a moment of silence, and then X asked, “What are you planning to do then?” He cracked an egg and dumped it in the bowl. “I know Father O'Toole technically hired you as the caretaker here, but you went to school to be a nurse. I won't really need one of those in a few weeks, right?”
I pulled a couple pieces of bread out of the bag and put them in the toaster as I considered what to say. I decided on honesty. “I don't know. I haven't really thought that far ahead.”
Okay, so partial honesty at least. I hadn't exactly been thinking about the work part of things.
“I'm sure you could get your job at the medical center back,” he said. “They must be missing you.”
I got a jar of strawberry preserves out. “It'd probably depend on whether or not they've hired someone to replace me.”
Another moment of silence.
“So you definitely want to go back to Texas then? When things are settled here?”
His tone was casual, but I felt like there was something underneath it. I might've been reading into it, wishful thinking and all, but I didn't think that was the case.
“I don't know,” I said. “I've lived my whole life in San Antonio. I hadn't even been out of Texas until I came here.”
He glanced at me as he stirred the eggs. “Really? Your family never took vacations when you were a kid?”
I shook my head and reached for the toast that popped up, perfectly browned. “Not really. We'd do a day at the zoo or some theme park. Sometimes a museum or a car show, or something like that. We never went very far though.”
“My family never went anywhere either.”
He tensed and I realized he hadn't meant to say that. I didn't press for details. Instead, I shifted the conversation. “I'll bet being in the army, you've been to a lot of different places.”