Page 91 of Unbearable
Tyler’s released from the hospital on a Saturday, a week and two days after the accident. For having a hole drilled in his head, I think a week is pretty fucking good. As did his doctor. It just goes to show you when Tyler’s determined, he’s unstoppable.
I drive home for the weekend to help him get settled in at his apartment. Mostly because he said the idea of having his mother help him use the bathroom wasn’t happening but he’d gladly let me assist his wang. Muff kindly agreed.
The doctor advises him to take a few months off work but he can’t afford it so he settles with a few weeks and I know even that’s pushing it for Tyler. He’s never missed a day of work until now.
I move around his apartment, washing sheets, cleaning dishes and putting away his premade and labeled meals my mom made him. I wouldn’t say I’ve convinced myself to be with him in the terms he wants, but I’m here, helping him out and organizing his apartment because it’s a goddamn mess and I can’t stand it.
Some would wonder why my hesitation, right? He loves me, and I love him. Should be simple. Not exactly.
I’m in the kitchen labeling the pot roast I made when he comes out of the bathroom laughing after taking a shower.
“You didn’t tell me I looked like a drunken prank.” He stops in front of the counter and smiles at me.
I try not to laugh as I look at his half-shaved head. “Well, I figured you could only handle so much bad news at once.”
“True.” He runs his hand over the left side of his head that’s shaved from the accident and gives a nod to the bathroom. “Can you help me out?”
I’ll admit, I miss the longer hair he had. “Yeah, sure.” I follow him in the bathroom taking a seat on the counter in front of him. He reaches his hands behind his head, grabbing the neck of his shirt, and pulling it over his head, tossing it to the floor.
My stare is immediately on his chest and then to his stomach. He’s lost some weight in the week he was in the hospital but he still looks amazing. Every defined muscle is on torturous display for me. It’s really hard not to act on these impulses I have seeing how we’re in a bathroom and these rooms are a weakness for us.
His lips twist into a smirk, knowing what’s going through my head. I have half a mind to shove my panties in his mouth so he won’t smile at me like that. “Stop looking at me like that.”
He holds up his hands, turning his smile up a notch. “My bad.”
I watch carefully as he pulls out the clippers from under the sink. When his arm lifts, I catch sight of his tattoos. I’ve seen them hundreds of times but his ink is beautiful, full of red and black designs.
“I’ve always loved your tattoos.” I run my fingers ghosting over the black markings, tracing over them with the lightest touch.
“I’m glad you like them.” His voice is rough, as though me touching him is hard for him. Probably about as hard as it is for me being in here with him.
His hands move to my thighs, trailing up them ever so lightly. I shiver, my legs wrapping around his and pulling him to me.
I pick up the clippers. “Ready?”
He nods, giving me a smile. “I guess so.”
I’m careful because the last thing I want to do is get the clippers anywhere near the bandage on his head. Relaxing, his eyes drift closed as I pass over his head, thick black beautiful hair I used to thread my fingers through falls onto the floor at his feet.
“I’m going to miss your hair.”
The corners of his mouth twitch into a half smile. “It’ll grow back.”
I know it will but in a strange sense, this, me shaving his head is like a fresh beginning in a bigger sense.
When I’m finished, his eyes open and my heart pounds in my chest, so nervous, but also from the way he’s watching me. He’s in love with me and I don’t think I’ve ever noticed the look, until now. My heart lurches and it’s easy to get lost in the moment when he looks at me like this.
I think he knows what he’s doing to me and clears his throat, his hands still on my thighs. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?”
“Sure.” At least on the couch I’ll probably be less likely to want to have sex with him.
Wrong.
It’s clear Tyler’s thoughts are not on the movie. Once the opening credits are displayed and his head is in my lap, his left hand is dangerously close to my V and I know D is looking for a little action.
When his hand moves further up, I stop him and Tyler sits up, staring at me. He knows he crossed the line but he doesn’t say anything.
I open my mouth to say something but forget what I’m even going to say when I meet his eyes. So instead, I lean in and kiss him because I’m an idiot and I miss kissing him.
