Page 109 of Time Stops With You

I pause and consider that question. “I won’t go back to the hospital.”

“It sounds like you’ve decided.”

“Yes.”

“So then you haven’ttrulydecided on Nardi.” Darrel looks at me steadily.

His words cut me to the quick, but I won’t deny it.

I’m prepared to love Nardi until I die.

But I won’t love her enough to live.

Twelve

NARDI

My emotions are all over the place. Like a tossed salad, I’m thrown this way and that with just one word from Ronan Cullen.

Embarrassing.

All he does is touch me and my resolve crumbles.

I’ve got no foundation. If I were a ship, I’d be one without an anchor in the middle of a storm. How do I find safe harbor without running straight into the iceberg? How do I stop from crashing and drowning in those icy grey eyes?

It doesn’t help that I’m locked away at home with nothing to do but think. Television doesn’t hold my attention. Neither does scrolling on my phone. I’ve been working non-stop since I was eighteen years old and I feel restless when my hands are idle.

After rearranging the pillows on the couch—twice—and then trying to sweep with one hand and almost whacking myself in the face with the broom, I give up and retreat to my bedroom.

As I watch my humble twin sized bed, Ronan’s promise whispers back to me.

Wait for me tonight.

Heat creeps up the back of my neck as I imagine what that means. His fingers unclasping my bra? His lips on my neck? His body pressing mine deeper into the mattress?

The heat whips into an inferno and I press my thighs together as an unfamiliar and incessant ache makes itself known.

What the heck am I imagining? Ronan Cullen insinuated that he’s a virgin. Even if he isn’t, I can’t imagine a personalitythatreclusive and hermit-like being impressive in the bedroom.

My eyes flash on the bed again. Yup.

It’ll probably be awful.

I shouldn’t imagine anything about him in that way. It’s never going to happen. I won’tletit happen.

I march up to my bed and wrench off my sheets. It’s a brutal task to get the material off with one hand. Flattening myself on the bed, I wiggle the corners free and they roll up with a frightening speed. I continue to wrestle with the sheets until sweat rolls down my forehead.

The pillowcases are next. An ingenious idea dawns on me after three awful attempts at undressing my pillows with one hand.

My teeth become the limb I’m missing. I bite down hard on the pillow, wiggle the pillowcase off and do a little victory dance for the achievement.

Winded but undeterred, I bundle my dirty sheets and pillowcases into a ball and stuff them into a laundry bag.

I leave my apartment with the bag on my back and make the short trip to the nearby laundromat. I’m absolutely, one hundred percent washing my sheets because I’m disgusted by the thought of Ronan lying on them. The thought itself is dirty, thus, I pour in extra fabric softener.

As I wait for the linens to wash, I scroll my phone. Out of nowhere, a lingerie ad pops up on my feed.

My eyes widen and I quickly swipe down so the image leaves.

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