Page 6 of Flyboy's Nightingale
Writhing under me as I slide balls deep into her tight sheath.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when the sound of the door groaning open wakes me. Opening my eyes, I find half the club, and the Ol’ ladies standing there, watching me. I make visual contact with all of them before I decide to speak. They all look tired and stressed, making me wonder if any of them have cracked a smile or laughed since they saw me last.
“You guys didn’t have to dress up for little ole me,” I joke, before cracking a grin.
That breaks whatever tension-filled silence was plaguing the room. All the guys come over, shaking my hand, the ladies softly pat me on the chest. Once everyone has reassured themselves that I’m awake, they all settle in, and start chatting. I tilt my head back on the stack of pillows underneath my head, listening to them, taking in all the voices, and quietly observing their ongoing conversations.
This here is what family is all about. The only thing that could make this reunion feel better, would be if Riley was here with me, sitting at my side.
CHAPTER
THREE
Riley
I walk outfrom my appointment wiping away the tears. This will be the last time I cry about this. I knew it was a long shot, and now I know with certainty that it's never going to happen. I will never be able to carry my own babies. There is nothing that anyone can do with all of the damage from my PCOS. I make it to my car and fall into the driver seat sighing, just exhausted from all the emotions, and crazy, non-stop motion over the last forty-eight hours.
I sit there, numb, letting it all settle in—Flyboy coming off sedation, running into a man that knows my father, and learning that there is no way without miraculous intervention that I’ll ever be able to give birth to a baby that shares my DNA. I pick up my phone realizing that no one in my life right now knows everything there is that’s going on with me. Scrolling through my contacts, my heart squeezes when I come across the name of who I thought was my one, true friend. Her betrayal is what taught me that my judgment of people is subpar at best. Ever since the night that I learned she had been keeping tabs on mefor my dad and brother, I knew that I could never let anyone get that close to me, not ever again.
My phone starts vibrating in my hand with multiple text messages, startling me. I pull up the messages and have to read the text about a dozen times before I can register what it’s saying.
Red: HE IS AWAKE!!!!!!!
Red: He has asked for you.
Red: HE’S AWAKE. Woman, get here!!!!!!!
I can’t breathe. This can’t be right. There is no way. It’s too good to be true. They just decided to take him off sedation. It should have taken more than mere hours for him to recover, most sedations take patients days to wake up from. This has to be a joke. My brain spins in a million directions, and like she can read my mind, my phone vibrates in my palm again.
Red: This is not a joke. Take a breath and get your but here!
Laughter bursts free from my chest. How could I, for a second, second guess the woman? She would never play tricks like that. I throw my phone in my passenger seat and crank my car’s ignition over. It’s time to get to the hospital and see what’s going on. Butterflies take flight in my belly—my emotions assault my insides as I get closer to my destination.
Why would he ask for me specifically?
Then my thoughts wander and questions begin to plague me.
What condition is he in?
Why would he ask for me?
That’s the one I focus in on, and the same one that I can’t seem to let go of. We did nothing but flirt and circle around eachother before his accident. He always seemed to have a tall, lanky blonde wrapped around him. There is no way that he would be into me. Not to say that I am not gorgeous, because I know that I’m not hard on the eyes, and I love every inch of myself, but I damn sure am not a size two. And I sure don’t have that Barbie doll look going for me, I’m a nurse, and most of the time I wear blood and vomit on my scrubs. Meaning, I'm without a question, not his go-to type.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that he would sleep with me, and even keep me around when he doesn’t have someone else to warm his bed. He’s a man, a biker, after all, and they love anything with a set of tits. The one thing I absolutely refuse to be again, is a dirty secret—for any man. They will either love me and be proud to do so, or they can take a fucking hike off the side of a cliff—without a bungee cord or a life raft.
Pulling up to the hospital, I put my car in park, and pull the keys from the ignition. I step out, taking a steadying breath to get control of my nerves. When I feel as if I can control my overwrought emotions, I go in the main entrance avoiding the ER as well as all the people waiting inside. When the elevator opens on the ICU floor, I’m met with a wall of leather. My heart rate spikes and my head swims with some of my deepest darkest moments. I stand there just looking at them, not seeing or hearing anything going on around me. As the door starts to close, one of the guys turns to me, and my lungs finally release, letting go of the grip on my much-needed oxygen.
“Riley? Are you okay?” Pretty Boy inquires.
“I’m-I’m-I’m good.” Is all I get out of my mouth before the doors ding, and fully close.
Reaching out, I push the button to reopen them, only I’m a second too late, and I’m headed down to the first floor. Growling in frustration I push the button to go back up. Readying myself for the wall of leather, I smooth my sundress down and place asmile on my face. The doors open and to my surprise the only one standing there is Pretty Boy smiling wide.
“I thought I would free up some space for you, Riles.” When he calls me, the smile on my face turns genuine.
“Well, aren't you a gentleman?” I wink.
“That, Riles, is not what I am. What I am, is a man that knows when a woman needs time and a little space.”
