Page 7 of The German's Guilty Pleasure
Slowly, she sat up and tossed her feet onto the floor, standing with an unsteady tilt. I grasped her arm carefully and helped her walk to the closet. “How did you know my size?” She shuffled through the dresses, pantsuits, and skirts.
“It was not difficult, Serenity. I used a personal consultant who assured me you would find these items acceptable. At least until you can shop for what you would like.”
She turned and eyed me. “Are you serious? These are beautiful designer brands. I can only dream about owning clothing this beautiful. I can’t accept them. There must be thousands of dollars in clothing here. Look at the shoes,” she exclaimed. She turned too quickly to point at the shoes lining the wall and ended up in my arms when she tipped over.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and I half carried her to the bed to lay her down. “Nonsense, Serenity. You certainly can accept it, but right now, you need to rest.” She grimaced when the bed touched a sore spot, and I rested my hand on her hip. “I am going to get you some ice and bring the doctor up. Just rest now.”
I rubbed her hip until her eyes closed and she dropped off to sleep. I propped a pillow carefully behind her back, so she did not roll onto the road rash. When I left the room, her beautiful face was surrounded by her red hair flowing across the pillow. It was too much for my groin to handle when it knew it could never have her.
Three
Serenity
I think that car punted me into the Twilight Zone. The doctor had come and treated my cuts and scrapes, I had taken a shower in what was my new bathroom filled with all my favorite products, and dressed in clothing I could only dream about buying before today. I hurt everywhere, but I refused to spend the rest of the day doing anything but what I came here to do. Work.
I stepped off the elevator and grit my teeth together to avoid limping toward his office. I hadn’t broken anything, but the doctor was sure I had sprained my wrist and ankle. I had a brace on both, so I was praying a good part of today was going to be spent sitting down. My head pounded, and I squinted one eye half-closed to block out some of the light.
“I feel like I left home three hours ago as Serenity Matthews and woke up as Goldilocks,” I said, stopping in the doorway to his office.
He was at the door in one fluid motion of his hard, chiseled body. The body I had been pressed up against just a few hours earlier. I had wanted to stay in his arms as much as I had wanted to get out of them. I wasn’t sure what to do with that other than to pretend it didn’t happen.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, taking my upper arm carefully and helping me to the large conference table. He pulled a chair out for me and helped me sit, then grabbed his laptop and joined me at the table.
“I’m hurting, but the doctor says I’ll live. Thank you for all of that,” I said, pointing upward. “I think I was in shock and probably wasn’t making good decisions.”
He lowered a brow at me. “Probably?”
I laughed then, and the release was needed for both of us. “You’re right. I was knocked a little bit silly. The doctor said I don’t have a concussion, so that’s good news, right?”
He nodded once. “She did say you have a sprained wrist and ankle, though. You could take it easy today and ice them down. I would not be upset.”
I brushed my hand at him. “As long as it isn’t strenuous work, I’ll be fine. I will need to deal with the old car later. Maybe I should call Maynard?”
“Done and done,” he said, opening the laptop.
“You called Maynard, or you dealt with the car?” I asked, suddenly on edge.
“Both. I wanted the professor to know you were okay in case you had called him in the state you were in. He said he would call you when class was done.”
I glanced at the clock and figured that would be in about an hour. “And the car?”
“He told me to put her out of her misery, so I had a tow truck pick the car up an hour ago. All your belongings are over there.” He pointed to a box in the corner.
I sighed. “That’s all that’s left of the old girl, huh? She didn’t deserve to go out that way.”
“I assume you have had the car for some time?” he asked, leaning back and resting an ankle over his knee. I noted immediately he wore socks with his dress shoes. Thank God. Nothing made me nuttier than men wearing dress shoes without socks. I know it’s the whole Miami Vice look, but that look died years ago.
“Actually, only about three years. It was Maynard’s daughter’s car originally. She drove it through high school and college until she bought a new one. They handed it down to me so I could get to class and work. It wasn’t worth anything by then, and Maynard insisted I drive it.”
“That was kind of them.”
"If it wasn't for their kindness, I probably wouldn't have made it through college. They didn't have to take me in. I most likely owe them my life."
"I doubt they feel that way, Serenity."
I shrugged. "Maybe not, but all the same, I know how I got to where I am today."
"Hard work and determination from what I can see. The Watkins did not have to house you, but they also did not do the work required to be where you are today."
