Page 15 of Mountain Man Bad Boy

She continued the tour, pointing out the rooms with doors. “These are group therapy rooms.”

“Why don’t the other rooms have doors?” I asked.

She flashed that beautiful smile and said, “You know why the rooms don’t have doors.”

I could imagine closing my bedroom door and making out with her, feeling her soft breasts fill my hands. She could sit on top of me, her graceful legs draped across mine. I would slide my hands up from her hips to her waist to her chest, tracing the hourglass curve of her figure. I would run my thumbs across her nipples and watch them peak beneath the fabric of her shirt.

I smiled, thinking that was probably only one of the reasons there were no doors. Was it my imagination, or did I catch her smiling too? She turned away before I could confirm her reaction, but something in the way she moved made me think she shared my inclinations. I would have to be careful. I couldn’t be the first patient to misinterpret her affection. The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

“Will I have to continue the group meetings?” I asked to clear the air.

“Yes.” She turned back to me, without a hint of impropriety. “There’s a schedule here.” She led me to a whiteboard posted between the two rooms. We looked for my name together and found it: P. Hayes, 2:30. “You’ve seen the game room and the gym?”

“Yeah.”

“There will be a group med check as well three times a day,” she explained. “You’ll all line up at the nurses’ station.”

“Great.” I flashed a smile.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” I shook my head. It was hard to explain that I didn’t want her to see me in my pajamas, lined up with the rest of the crazies, asking for pills. But the reality of the situation was that I was a patient, and she was a nurse. We were on two sides of the medical divide, and I would prove nothing by being noncompliant.

“Well, I have to continue my rounds,” she excused herself.

I had to say something before she left, something witty and attractive that would ensure a second visit. I had no idea how the staff worked around here or whether she would still be checking up on me. Now that she didn’t have to bring me my medications or check my vitals, would she even come around? I had one shot to impress her and a million things working against me.

“Thanks for taking the time to show me around,” I said, opting for a simple expression of gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” she said cheerfully, before moving away and disappearing into the nurses’ station. She gave me no hint of friendship beyond the professional courtesy allotted to all her patients.

I sighed, looking at my wrist as if I had ever worn a watch. I scanned the walls for a clock and, finding one, discovered I had fifteen minutes left to kill before the group session. I picked a chair and sat down. With no phone, no book, and no one to talk to, I just sat, waiting. It was an odd experience. I had always spent my time high or trying to get high, working or getting ready to go to work. I had never just sat still before coming to this place. It wasn’t altogether a bad sensation; I realized there was more going on in my brain than I gave myself credit for.

I thought about Mike and Dillon, how they had cabins in the mountains. I wondered if I could score something like that for myself. Maybe I could invite Gina to visit. We could grill up some chicken and veggies and make a night of it. Before I had gotten any further into the daydream, the doors opened, and a dozen patients shuffled into the common room. I stood to take my place in the group therapy room.

Ididn’t think I was going to get any visitors, but I was wrong. Leave it to Mike to be more invested than a friend should be. Years ago, he had taken the fall for me, bought drugs to try and secure my freedom from the dealers who were after me, and gone to prison for it. The one stand-up thing I had done to repay him, helping to rescue his wife, seemed so far in the past. I hadn’t expected anyone to come, but I was grateful he had.

I had been in the low-risk area for a couple of days and had gotten to know some of the residents. A few of them weren’t so bad. I sat through a few card games and had a regular table to eat my meals at. They put me with a roommate who snored, but he didn’t jump up on the bed at midnight and declare his allegiance to Satan, so I couldn’t complain.

Gina had been by to see me a few times, just enough that I couldn’t tell if she was interested or not. She was consistently friendly and open, sharing more of her personal life than I thought she usually shared, but I couldn’t be sure. She smiled affectionately but never touched me, not even a pat on the back. I was beginning to think I would leave this place without ever resolving the sexual tension between us. I had to play the part of the drug user, unavailable for romantic relationships. She had to play the part of the professional nurse, friendly and caring but reserved. If there was more to it, I couldn’t tell.

She came to get me in the gym. I was doing push-ups in the narrow space, getting creative with the method. It was just a game, just something to stay occupied. I put my hands as far apart as they could go and still support my body, rocking from side to side as I pressed up and down. I didn’t realize I had an audience until the exercise was over and I put my knees down.

She clapped appreciatively. “How many of those can you do?”

“Eleven,” I answered, coming to my feet and brushing my knees off. I didn’t mind her watching. Of all the people who could have caught me flexing my muscles, she was the one that might pay dividends.

“You have a visitor,” she said.

I brushed past her, through the narrow space that was meant for a door. In that moment, when we were both confined to the four-foot entrance, I could smell the soap she used. It was a lemon-vanilla scent, clean and wholesome. Our chests were centimeters apart, so close that I could feel the aura surrounding her. Just one more inch and I would be able to enjoy the swell of her breasts against my skin. Her chin was tilted up, her eyes following me as I moved. Our lips passed close enough to kiss—if only I had the abandon to do as I pleased. I slipped free, removing myself from her presence before her proximity became intoxicating.

She inhaled sharply as I passed, giving me hope that she felt the same as I did. The moment over, I left her behind as if she had just been a messenger delivering a summons and not the person I most wanted to see. Walking over to the visitors’ area, I found Mike in one of the chairs, a Styrofoam cup in hand.

“Mike!” I took the rest of the distance in stride, thrilled to see him. I thought I had this whole thing licked, that I was going to make it through treatment without any friends on my side but seeing my oldest and closest friend waiting for me was almost too much. I swallowed the tears before they could emerge and clapped him into a big hug. “You came?”

“Of course I came,” Mike laughed. “Did you think I would leave you out here in the big city on your own?”

“How’s Tammy?” I asked, taking a seat.

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