it is, and the only thing that could have made her cuter at this moment is if she would have stomped her foot while saying it. “Thank you,” I say, grinning. “Gosh, that’s so sweet of you. No one has ever said that to me before.”
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. The truth doesn’t hurt me like you’d think it would,” I say, smiling widely.
She’s confused. I like that too. I knock my fist against the armrest of the chair I’m sitting in and push myself up to my feet, still feeling that shooting pain running down to the back of my knee now. I can’t help groaning as I stand up. I’d like to say I was doing it to get her attention, but damn, I must have done something this morning. When she glances my way, she drops her shoulders and stops pacing. My face is obviously betraying the pain I’m feeling right now. Sasha steps back over to me and places her hand on my lower back as I try to straighten out. “You really need to go see someone.”
“It’s just a pulled muscle,” I tell her, walking toward the adjacent hall.
“Where are you going?” she asks with concern.
“Bathroom. Want to give me a hand?” I grin and wink.
She growls and slaps her hands down by her sides. “You just can’t stop yourself, can you?”
I walk down the hall looking for the restroom signs, while also focusing on walking like I don’t have a stick up my ass, which is kind of what I feel like right now. Damn. Time for some painkillers. I haven’t had one of these muscle spasms since physical training, or “PT” as we call it in the military, a few years ago.
Once in the bathroom, I lean my hand up against the wall, ready to take a piss, and suddenly I get the worst best idea ever. How pissed would Sasha be if she got her first dick-pic? Just the thought of the look on her face makes me laugh out loud.
There’s shitty phone reception in here, so hopefully I’ll be back there when the text pops up.
I’ll be nice, just a little tease. I slip my phone out of my back pocket and position my junk so it’s in the right light and snap a few pics so I can choose which one makes it look its best. I’m nearly in hysterics as I decide which one to use. The second one I took will do just fine so I open up my text chat and insert the image, then click send. I quickly take a piss and wash up so I can get back to her before the text gets there.
I’m nearly running down the hall, still with the whole stick-up my ass trot, but I’ve got to get back there.
Sasha doesn’t have her phone in her hand when I return, which gives me hope. I take a seat across from her rather than next to her, needing to see her full face reaction.
I’m anxiously waiting for her little pink-encased phone to light up when I take my phone back out and look at the reception, seeing that I actually have full service here. What the hell?
“You okay?” she asks me.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, keeping my focus locked on her phone. Is she pretending she didn’t get the text, to make me uncomfortable? If she did, it’s working. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that picture. What if I scare her away? Some women don’t enjoy girth, and I don’t have much else to offer besides that. Although, I get the sense her “little miss perfect” attitude is just hiding the freak she probably is in bed. I’m pretty sure that’s how all the quiet ones are.
“Hey guys,” Cali says, walking toward us.
“How is he?” Sasha asks first, eager for answers.
“He’s kind of out of it. It’s going to be a long recovery road. His leg is a mess.”
“How long does he need to stay here?” Sasha asks.
“A few days to make sure there’s no infection from the surgery. He’s got a plate outside of his leg, attached to the bone. It’s rough.”
“Poor guy,” Sasha says. “Can we visit with him?”
“Yeah, definitely. He’s a little pissy, though, so I just wanted to give you that heads up. I’m going to come back with you guys. He wants to see Tyler.”