Page 17 of Interference

When I woke up the next morning, I just lay there for a while, basking in how good I felt.

Soft, clean sheets. A warm blanket. A mattress and pillows that were firm enough to be supportive but soft enough to be spectacularly comfortable. I still ached all over, but this was a million times better than I’d been any morning in recent memory.

My head felt good, too. As if I’d actually slept through the entire night. In fact, I was pretty sure I had. Even when I couldn’t remember my nightmares, they usually left my head foggy and my ears ringing. This morning… none of that. Also none of that miserable pain in my stomach from going too long without eating. I ate better than some of the people out there—my VA disability didn’t put a roof over my head, but it could get me a few meals and it kept my dog fed. Still didn’t mean I was ever particularly full, though, and I inevitably woke up hungry as hell.

I usually woke up with Lily glued to my side, too. She’d spent many nights curled against me inside my sleeping bag. After that had been stolen, I’d wrapped her in my jacket, and she’d stay as close to my chest as she could get.

This morning? She was on her back, legs in the air and going every which direction, which her head partly buried under the pillow. When I scratched her belly, her tail started thumping against the mattress.

I laughed into the stillness, letting my eyelids drift shut again. This was amazing.

And we’re going to wake up like this again tomorrow? Seriously? Holy shit.

I gazed up at the ceiling. I hadn’t imagined that conversation, had I? Anthony suggesting we stay until Lily had finished her medicine? Ten whole days?

I exhaled, wiping a hand over my face. God, I hoped he meant it. I didn’t want to impose, and if he wanted us to leave, we would, but… I hoped and prayed he really was giving us a place to stay for…

I had to swallow against the lump in my throat.

A place to stay for ten. Days.

I hated that my dog had a skin infection, that it was making her itchy, but goddamn, I couldn’t lie—I was grateful too. The infection was mild, fortunately. She had a little itchy spot, but it wasn’t causing her any serious issues or discomfort, and it had secured us a place to stay for a week and a half.

I had no idea how I could ever hope to repay Anthony for any of this. Maybe I’d think of something over the next ten days.

For now, I wanted to get out to the kitchen before Anthony left. I hadn’t slept too late, had I?

There was a clock on the nightstand, and it read 8:17. Okay, good. So he’d probably still be here.

I got up slowly, a few joints popping with the movement.

Behind me, Lily rose, too, and her tags jingled as she stretched.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked her. “Sleeping on a real bed?”

She wagged her tail.

I chuckled and tousled her ears. As I reached for my prosthetic and its liner, she jumped down and trotted to her water bowl. Once I had on my prosthetic, I poured some more food into her dish, and while she ate, I dressed.

My first combat tour—hell, my first time going out into the field for training exercises—I’d sworn I would never again take for granted the feeling of clean clothes. The months I’d spent on the street had only driven that home, and as I dressed this morning, it was borderline orgasmic. Everything was clean. I’d showered last night. I’d cleaned the liner for my prosthetic (I did that as often as I could anyway, but nothing ever felt fully clean out there). My clothes were freshly washed, dried, and folded in a laundry basket. It was amazing.

And it wasn’t just my clothes—I’d washed Lily’s vest as well. After she’d eaten, I put it on her, and she stayed close as I ventured out of the bedroom.

Halfway up the hall, I caught the scent of bacon. Despite not being as empty as it usually was, my stomach growled, because… bacon.

In the kitchen, I found Anthony sitting at one of the barstools by the counter, a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs in front of him. He had on a Seattle Bobcats hoodie, and his dark hair was wet and finger-combed. The thought he’s fucking cute brushed up against me, but another whiff of bacon chased away anything that wasn’t related to food.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled as he put down his phone. Gesturing at the stove with his fork, he said, “I made extra. Help yourself.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Plates are in the cabinet on your left. Do you want coffee? Orange juice?” He started to get up. “There’s also hot sauce if you like—”

“Sit, sit.” I waved him back. “I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast.” With a little direction from him, I found everything I needed, and then joined him at the counter. Lily sat beside me, and I offered her a small piece of bacon, which she devoured happily.

I started eating as he sipped his coffee. Of course everything tasted amazing. Partly because there was nothing picky about my palate these days, but it also turned out Anthony was a solid cook. Eggs were perfectly salted and not overdone, and the bacon was exactly the way I’d always liked it—not super soft, but not quite crunchy either.

“Sleep all right?” he asked after a minute or two.

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