Page 23 of Blue Moon Love

He had always teased me about how much I ‘thrashed’ around in bed. I also stole the covers. I heard the same complaints at sleepovers I’d gone to in middle school and high school, and Winnie woke up a lot of mornings shivering at the end of the bed, curled up in a little ball.

“I’ll stay on the couch,” he stated in a firm and final tone.

“No. Absolutely not. You just had surgery.”

“The TV is out here,” he argued. “You know I watch TV when I can’t sleep.”

Crap. He had me there.

“Fine,” I conceded. I didn’t have a television in my room because I wanted my bedroom to be my sanctuary, a place of peace, somewhere I could go and recharge. No man had ever slept in it, and I had to admit, I was sort of relieved that Sam wasn’t going to lay his head there. If he did, every time I closed my eyes, I’d see the memories of him there. I’d smell him on my pillows even after I’d washed them. This was for the best. “But only if you promise to switch with me if you get uncomfortable.”

He nodded in agreement. I pulled the bag of medication that he’d been sent home with out of my purse and set the pill bottles on the side table. Next, I checked the instructions and saw he wasn’t due for his next dose until bedtime.

Sam hobbled around the love seat and lowered down on the couch, then leaned his crutches on the wall beside him. I followed behind him and pulled the ottoman close to him in case he wanted to elevate his leg.

Not wasting any time to get some good face-time with her favorite person, Winnie scampered up her doggy steps beside the couch and trotted along the cushions to where Sam was reclining in the corner.

“Hello, my pretty Winnie girl. Did you miss me?” he asked as he scratched her behind her ears, then leaned down and kissed her on her head. Her little Corgi butt wiggled back and forth as she snuggled against him.

I didn’t blame her. If he kissed me and asked me if I missed him, I’d wiggle, too. Which reminded me.

“I do have a few rules while you’re here.”

“Always use a coaster, put the toilet seat down, never drink the last Dr. Pepper, or leave only three Oreos in the package and then put it back in the cabinet,” he recited my house rules.

I’d trained him well.

“Yes, but there’s one more.”

“Okay.”

“No randos.”

“Randos?” he repeated.

“No random women. Molly’s fine, or someone I know, but I don’t want random hookups in my house.”

“You think I’m gonna hook up with people while I’m recovering from ACL surgery?”

Instead of answering, I just stared at him. I wouldn’t put it past him. It would actually surprise me if he didn’t.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at me. “I haven’t had sex in over a year, and I have no plans on breaking my streak under your roof.”

I rolled my eyes and started to turn around. I wasn’t going to stand there and let him lie to my face. I only made it one step before I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist and pull me back. When I turned back around, the earnest look in his eyes caught me by surprise.

“I’m serious,” he insisted.

I wasn’t going to argue with him, but I had a hard time believing that was true.

“It’s none of my business.”

His jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared as if saying it was none of my business had hit a nerve with him. I wasn’t sure if it was the pain he was in, or maybe the fact that he was going to be out of commission and he hated sitting still, or what, but something was going on with him. I stared into the chocolate pools of his eyes, peeking into the window of his soul, searching for some clue as to what the cause of his new personality shift could be.

Before I figured it out, he dropped my wrist and picked up the remote control.

“So what’s it gonna be? Breakfast Club? Some Kind of Wonderful? Pretty in Pink?”

“As much as I’d love nothing more than to have a John Hughes marathon, I can’t. I have to get ready.”

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