Definitely gonna have to get creative with this one.
I chat with Iris for a bit longer, catching up on her dominating victories during bunko hours.
Promising to return soon, I say goodbye and rush back to the grocery store for additional supplies before swooping through the coffee shop drive-thru again.
Only this time, I’m in much better spirits as the same employee hands over another tray of drinks and a frequent customer punch card.
thirty-seven
Beau
I’m exhausted.
Sure, the headaches have gotten better, and the scar on my scalp doesn’t itch so much anymore. I’ve also been able to get up and do things for myself. Plus, all of my follow-up appointments with Dr. Malone have gone well.
So there’s that.
It’s just… everyone keeps telling me how well I’m doing. How much progress I’m making bouncing back from brain surgery.
But I don’tfeelgood. I’m moody, easily irritable, and overall frustrated with my lack of progress healing. I don’t know how much of these feelings stem from boredom or the changes in my brain. I wish I could go to work with Liam, but he's been adamant about my need to heal.
I’ve lost driving privileges for god knows how long. It’s possible I’ll be on anti-seizure medications for the long haul. MRI scans will become ongoing stressors in my life. Probablyforever. I’ve wasted whole days napping. And I’m getting weak in the arms, the only real place I had definition.
Not to mention the fact that as much as Iwantto play music, as many notes as I’ve scribbled down on sheets of paper, physically I can’t make it through a damn song without mistakes. It’s like I’m stuck in some sort of twisted nightmare.
Is this really what Liam and Stasi want to deal with?
I can tell my moodiness is wearing on both of them. Shit, it’s filling up the house like some dark, infectious cloud, poisoning everything it touches.
I miss being fuckingnormal.
Odd clinks and swishes of fabric from the dining room have me pushing up to a seated position on the couch.
“What is she doing in there?” I ask.
Liam leans into my sightline. “She threatened to cut me if I let you peek.”
I crane my neck further. “Have I mentioned how much I approve of spicy Stasi?”
Liam forces my head back to him. “Do I need to distract you?”
I’m about to tell him yes, as long as he promises to do it in a sexually entertaining way, but then I remember I haven’t showered or changed my clothes in over a day.
“Can I rinse off?”
“Why are you asking, Beau? This is your home.”
Home. That fucking word. It might be my kryptonite hearing it come from his mouth. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything more. I thought music was it for me, but now I’ve found something infinitely more important.
Them.Us.
Liam grips my bicep, hauling me to my feet and walking me to his bathroom. When he starts up the shower, I lift my arms in anticipation of him stripping me down.
Grinning, I ask, “Is this where I call you daddy?”
He tosses me a look of warning.
“Have I mentioned I miss sex?” I add.
