Page 18 of Marry Your Best Friend

8

GABE

It’s like heaven and hell, all wrapped into one. Heaven because I have Chrissy in my arms. She was able to sleep through the night, and any time I tried to move away, she held me tighter. It is hell because my cock is hard, and I can’t do anything about it. I want to push her to her back and slide into her, but I don’t have that right. Hell, she’d probably freak out if I even tried it.

Chrissy is sprawled on my chest, and as she lifts her leg higher, her thigh grazes against my hard manhood, and there’s no holding in the groan that erupts from me. I know the minute she wakes up and realizes what’s happening by the way she tenses against me. I gently untangle myself from her andmove to the edge of the bed, head in my hands. “Sorry,” I mutter.

The bed shakes as she sits up behind me. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s a natural reaction for a man to wake up with nocturnal penile tumescence, also called morning wood.”

I groan again. There’s no way I can sit here and listen to her talk about my erection, even if she’s talking about it in a medical way. “Just give me a minute, huh?”

She gets out of the bed, and the sight of her walking away with her tight booty shorts just makes me harder. I force my gaze to the wall in front of me and try to think about the most unsexy things I can think of. Fuck, this is embarrassing. She’s Chrissy, for fuck’s sake. I shouldn’t be reacting this way to her.

When I’m finally going flaccid, she comes out of the bathroom and has changed into another pair of shorts and a tank top. She’s without a bra, and her nipples are pressed against the tight shirt. Fucking kill me now.

I grunt as she passes by. “I’m going to start breakfast. Take your time.”

I swear I hear her giggle as she walks down the hallway.

When I seem to have calmed down, I get up and make my way over to the chair where my clothes are. I grab them and get dressed before going into the bathroom. There’s two toothbrushes in the holder, and for just a second, I panic, but then I remember that it’s the same toothbrush I used the last time I was here. I get cleaned up and then make my way out to the kitchen.

“I’m hoping that was my toothbrush in there because I used it.”

“Yep, it’s yours. Whose else would it be?”

All I do is nod because it feels good knowing that there isn’t some other guy spending the night here. I lean against the counter. “How you doing?”

I watch as she pours black coffee into a mug and hands it to me. “Here you go. Just like you like it.”

I take the mug from her hands. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

She shrugs and turns back to the stove. “You took care of me last night. The least I can do is feed you.”

She turns off the stove and dumps the eggs in a bowl and sets them on the island. The toast pops up, and she sets them on a plate and butters them before sitting them next to the eggs. “Have a seat.”

“What can I do?”

She laughs and points to the stool. “Have a seat.”

I listen to what she says and sit down. This is how she is. She enjoys taking care of people, and I’m not going to fight her on it. I serve food onto the two plates and then pat the seat next to me. As she sits down, I pour from the orange juice carafe into our glasses. “This is perfect, honey.”

“I didn’t have any bacon.”

I shrug. “I don’t need bacon. This is perfect. I usually eat a granola bar for breakfast.”

She gasps. “You eat one granola bar?”

“Okay, maybe two… or three.”

“Gabe, you have to eat more than that. You can’t do your job and just eat a granola bar.”

I know she’s going to keep on, so I grab her hand and thread our fingers together and then hold her hand on my leg. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Now eat.”

She’s smiling up at me. “I need my hand back to eat.”

Reluctantly, I release her, and she picks up her fork. We’re both silent; she’s probably thinking about her day, and I’m thinking about her.

She breaks the silence. “I don’t think I’m cut out for working in the ER.”

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