Page 47 of Misguided

It’s almost comical, the way his head hangs between my thighs, his hair brushing against the apex of my leather pants. Good for a little teasing later.

“Honey, you’re gonna have to help me.” I tap him on the back between his shoulders.

“You came back,” he mumbles, the words barely coherent.

“I never went anywhere.” I place both hands under his shoulders and jerk. “Can you help me?”

He slams a hand down to his left, and then promptly falls on his back again.

We repeat the same process, more or less, five more times before he finally manages to get to his feet. My side strains, my shoulders protesting at his dead weight, as I guide him across the yard.

He stumbles a few times, but we manage to get up the steps before he completely hits the floor again.

Crackers hesitates mid-step as he crosses the entrance on the other side of the doors. He leans back, head twisted to the side as he looks us over.

“What the hell? I wondered where you two went.”

“A little help?” I nudge Dog with my foot, and he groans.

Crackers chuckles and then runs a palm over his face to wipe the humor clear. “Those prospects sure know how to get their own back.”

“It’s not funny.” I frown. “What if he’d collapsed somewhere and choked on his vomit?”

“Wouldn’t be a first around here.”

“Unless he died from it.”

Crackers steps out onto the porch and gives me a firm slap on the shoulder. “Never mind, fair maiden.”

I roll my eyes. “Just help me get him into bed, would you?”

Crackers bends his knees and tucks both hands under Dog. “Which one?”

“Mine.”

He pauses, Dog suspended in his arms. “Are you sure?”

“Somebody’s going to have to watch him, right?”

“I guess.” He shrugs, making Dog bob in the process, and then heaves him to his feet. “Come on, trooper. Time for nigh-nighs.”

I follow as Crackers damn near carries Dog to bed; the sinking pit in my stomach telling me this probably isn’t such a good idea. As mad as I am at the jerk, there’s a definite flutter that tells me I also still care enough to want to hear his excuse.

A wise woman would leave him to suffer in solitude and walk away.

A foolish woman would nurse him until he felt better, trying to win his heart by playing the perfect girlfriend.

Me? I’m going the same old route I’m used to: straight up the middle. I’ll watch him, make sure he recovers, but he’ll also have a lot to answer for if he expects me to stay on good terms with him.

“You want help undressing him?” Crackers asks as he heaves Dog’s legs onto the bed.

I shake my head, placing my hand to Crackers’ arm. “Nope, I’m okay. Thank you.”

His eyes say it all before he even opens his mouth. “I hope you know what you’re doin’, Mel.”

“Do any of us?” I ask with a small smile.

I know how he is with Beth. Everyone can see how much he loves her, but it seems that even after a year he’s still denying the truth to himself. He’s hardly in a position to comment on the mess I’ve got going on here.

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