Page 49 of Forever Mine

“No, no, no, no …”

“Help me someone …”

“I can’t breathe …”

My head hurts. My neck hurts. Where the fuck am I?

Shit. I’m hunched over the kitchen island. I crack open an eyelid to see it’s one o’clock in the morning. I’ve been sitting here for four hours at least. I can’t remember when we started the movie, and then I started putting the moves on her. Freakin’ Emily cockblocked me.

“No!”

I launch out of my chair when I realize the sound that woke me up was Monica having another nightmare. I take the stairs two at a time and bust into the guest room. She’s tangled in the sheets, a sheen of perspiration covering her body as she flails and whimpers in fear.

“Anjinho, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whisper as I gather her in my arms. She wakes suddenly as her eyes attempt to focus. “You’re coming into my room.”

I walk into my bedroom and grab the comforter, pulling it back before placing Monica on the bed. As I attempt to pull away, she latches on to my shirt.

“Don’t leave me!” she cries out.

“I’m not leaving. I need to get undressed and brush my teeth,” I tell her. She lets out a relieved exhale as she releases my shirt from her fists. I brush my teeth, removing my clothes as I go to save time. I’m not even going to bother putting on sweatpants right now. My mission is to get back to Monica as quickly as possible, so I can take her in my arms and soothe her.

As soon as my ass hits the bed, Monica launches herself into my arms.

“It’s okay,querida. It’s okay,” I murmur against her hair. I feel her body begin to relax as she falls asleep quickly. I’m a bundle of nervous energy. That four-hour nap means I’m not even remotely tired. With a sigh, Monica rolls off me and onto her stomach, and I take the opportunity to slide out of bed and run back downstairs to grab my phone.

I get insomnia all the time. Probably due to all the time I spent in downrange throughout my Army career. When I usually have a bout of insomnia, I’ll have a glass of Cachaça and read a couple chapters of one of my thriller novels. But I want to be next to Monica in case she needs me. I grab a glass and the open bottle of Cachaça, fill the glass with ice, and head back upstairs. Monica hasn’t moved, and I gingerly climb back into bed without jarring her.

I texted Tommy earlier this evening to let him know about Monica’s apartment and fell asleep before he responded. I figure he’s still up. I might suffer from insomnia, but Tommy can survive two hours of sleep a night without lasting effects.

Tommy: Is she okay? Do they think it was accidental? Let me know if you need anything.

Me: She’s okay. Smoke inhalation. She’s staying with me, so I can keep an eye on her.

Tommy: You finally got the girl!

Me: Not exactly. It’s complicated. I’m being patient. She’s not there yet, but she knows where I stand.

Tommy: Do you need anything?

Me: No. Besides, nothing is open. It’s after one in the morning.

Tommy: There’s always a twenty-four-hour Walmart open somewhere.

Me: Nah, man. We’re good. I bought a bunch of stuff for her while she was in the hospital and had it delivered. She lost everything.

Tommy: How much stuff did you buy?

Me: Anything she might need. Clothes, soap, shoes, whatever.

Tommy: Did you even get her unmentionables?

Me: Obviously.

Tommy: Holy shit. You really are gone for this chick.

Me: Anyone would have done the same.

Tommy: That’s where you’re wrong, dude. Most guys wouldn’t. But that’s why you’ve always been in a class by yourself.

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