Page 14 of Paths
I yank up my sweatpants as best as I can with my bum shoulder and arm. It’s not easy showering with one arm wrapped in plastic. After five weeks, my arm feels great—it’s only my shoulder that still bothers me. I know I need to do something about it, but I hate going to the doctor. I’ll have to make shit up on how it happened and I’m not excited to do that.
Before I get a chance to pull a shirt over my head, the doorbell rings. I didn’t hear the alerts from the cameras since I was in the shower. Grabbing my phone, I switch to the front door view of the house.
She’s back.
I ignore my sling and stare at the screen on my phone as she waits. I shouldn’t answer, it’s bad enough I can’t look away from her on the cameras. Last night it took her five minutes to leave.
She knocks.
And rings the bell again.
Fuck me, more knocking.
Minutes upon minutes go by and she waits, knocks, and rings some more.
All the while, I stare at my phone as she chews on her lip, sighs, and even closes her eyes like she can’t believe she’s standing where she is. She looks miserable, and I can’t say I don’t know how she feels. Not going to her is fucking hard. But she doesn’t stop, and I’m not sure why she doesn’t give up and leave.
She keeps on so long, I can’t make myself ignore her another second. Tossing my phone to the bed, I march down the stairs and go straight to the front door. When I swing it open, she’s surprised, and drops her arm from her constant state of knocking.
“What?” I’m frustrated with myself for not being stronger and leaving her be.
“Um…” her voice trails off and her light blue eyes drop to my torso. I stand and wait for her to say something as her eyes drag over me, and she rolls her lips, swallowing hard.
“Maya?” I call for her and try not to let her gaze affect me, even though it does. After watching her for so long, being alone with her for the first time gives me an uneasy feeling I’ve never experienced.
Her eyes dart back to mine, and she looks like I’ve shaken her out of a daze. I like the way she sounds out of breath when she says, “You’re not wearing your sling.”
I tip my head to study her expression. “No. I don’t wear it all the time anymore.”
She shifts her weight, looking uncomfortable. “Did you get the papers I left with the food last night?”
Mention of the food makes me think of the one dessert she left me, and I feel myself relax. For the first time in so long I can’t remember the last time it happened, my mouth scarcely tips on one side. “You mean the single, miniature cream puff that was barely a bite?”
Her brow immediately crinkles and she stands straighter. “It was more than a bite.”
“No,” I contest, but I like her response. “You packed me a quarter of a dessert. That’s just not nice. It’s like you’re teasing me or something.”
“But,” she pauses and puts her hands to her hips, “I did bring you dessert. I can tell you like them.”
I lean my good shoulder into the door jamb and let myself enjoy our back-and-forth. “You also brought me a lot of vegetables.”
“And potato soup, which I know you like, right?”
When I look down at her, I realize this is the closest we’ve ever been. She’s wearing jeans that fit her like a second skin, and I know this because I’ve watched her on the cameras in her skintight leggings. Her jeans are rolled at the ankle over a pair of short boots that boost her to at least five-ten. Topping it off, she’s wearing a Henley made for chicks that’s unbuttoned just enough, she’s teasing me with the swell of her tits.
I like it all, but I’m tired of talking about food. “What do you want, Maya?”
A confused expression takes over her pretty face and she shakes her head, her long, dark blond hair swaying back and forth, making me wonder how soft it is. “You didn’t answer last night. I told Addy and Crew I’d come work on your shoulder. I don’t like not following through on my word, so I left my job at the Ranch early today to try again. Did you at least do the exercises outlined on the papers I left for you?”
“No.”
“Grady,” she breathes my name, frustrated. No matter how frustrated she is, hearing my name pass her lips stirs something in me. I wonder what my name would sound like if she was happy, tired, or fuck me, when I was making her come. She keeps on, pulling me out of my contemplation of her screaming my name while my mouth is between her legs. “You’re going to get frozen shoulder. You cannot simply resume normal activities without working up to it, you’ll risk doing major damage. You probably need another MRI to check on the condition of the joint, but at the very least, you need to start the stretches.”
“You’re here to do that?” I ask, all of a sudden anxious to start therapy.
She exhales harshly. “Yes, I am. As a favor to Addy.”
I straighten and step back to make room for her. If therapy is my way to spend time with her, I’ll take it. “Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint Addy. Come on in.”
