Reading Online Novel

Until Series(110)



“What happened?” she asked; I can hear the strain in her voice. I stood, reaching over for the pitcher of water next to the bed. I filled a cup, grabbed the straw, and held it for her while she took a sip.

“You had an allergic reaction to something you ate at dinner. The doctor said that you need to get tested to see what caused the reaction. He also prescribed you an Epipen so that if it happens again, you can take the shot right away.”

“I’ve never been allergic to anything before.” Her voice was quiet, tears started to fill her eyes.

“Hey, now, no crying. You’re okay, I…” Jesus, I was going to say I love you, but I don’t, do I? Shit, I do. I fucking love her. I swallowed, looking down at her; it was too soon. I knew that it would happen, but it was too soon; my stomach was in knots, and I felt sick.

“Are you okay?” Looking concerned, she lifted her hand to my cheek. I was not okay, but I would be. I shook my head, grabbed her hand from my face, brought it to my mouth, and kissed her palm.

“Just worried, baby. I’m going to go let the doctor know you’re awake.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, laying her head back down on the pillow. After I found the doctor, he talked to Liz about seeing a specialist, and then went on to explain how to use the Epipen, and what she should do if something like this happened again. By the time we were pulling out of the hospital, it was after midnight. Liz was knocked out the minute I sat her in the car. Pulling up in front of my house, I carried Liz inside. She didn’t even stir when I took off her dress and put one of my tees on her. I covered her up, and then went to check around the house to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. I took off my clothes, left on boxers that I normally would have forgone, and then climbed into bed, pulling Liz into me.



Bringing me back to the present, my fingers flex on Liz’s ass in my hand. I look down at her; she’s still sleeping, and I don’t want to move, but need to get up and call my brothers to let them know that I’ll be in late. My cell phone is in my jeans that I had on yesterday, and they’re across the room on a chair. Like my thoughts make it happen, my phone starts ringing. Liz jolts, and then mumbles something, snuggling deeper into my side. I smile, slide out from under her, walk across the room, and grab my phone out of my pocket. “Shit,” I whisper, looking at the screen. Mom is on the display. “One second, Mom,” I whisper into the phone. I pull on a pair of sweats, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder. I look at the bed; Liz is still out, but now she’s dragged my pillow to her front and is wrapped around it. I bend, kiss her hair, walk out of the room, and make my way down the hall into the kitchen. I bought my house two years ago. It was the only property I found with the acreage I wanted. I like the house; it’s a fixer-upper with four bedrooms and 2500 sq. feet of ranch-style features. The kitchen is small, the living room is huge, the bedrooms are a good size, and it has a killer basement. Eventually, I’m going to tear down the kitchen’s wall and make it an open-concept floor plan. But I’m taking my time, doing little-by-little. “Hey, Mom,” I say into the phone, pulling out stuff to make coffee.

“Hey, honey. How’s Liz? Did she get home okay yesterday?”

“She’s still with me, Mom.”

“She’s still with you? It’s seven-thirty in the morning.” If it wasn’t for the concern in her voice, I would have laughed. “What’s going on, Trevor Mayson? So help me—if you hurt that girl…”

“Jesus, Mom, we’re dating. I took her to the hospital last night. I didn’t want her out of my sight, so I brought her here rather than digging through her shit to find her keys to stay at her place.”

“Oh…okay,” she pauses, probably stunned that Liz and me are together.

“Thanks for letting me know where your loyalties lie, Mom.”

“Oh, stop. She’s a good girl.” I know my mom is rolling her eyes; we have always been close. I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to see Liz standing in the doorway. Her hair is all over the place; my shirt is too big for her—about the same length as her dress from last night—and she looks adorable.

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” She shrugs, looking at the coffee pot. I can tell she’s still half-asleep. “Come here.” I say softly, holding up my arm. She stumbles to me, rubbing her face into my chest, and I kiss her hair. “Did you sleep okay?” I ask quietly, and she nods her head. Then I hear my mom sob into the phone. “Mom, you okay?”