Page 51 of Up In Flames
“Here. I’ve got some water and your meds,” he says, sliding his arm around my back, helping me sit up just enough so I can swallow without choking.
I knock them back and almost choke anyway when he says, “Good boy.” There is no sexual undercurrent in his words, but that doesn’t stop me from whimpering. Thankfully, he thinks it’s because of the pain I’m in.
“It’ll be better soon. Just try to relax,” he says, continuing to coach me through this with his deep voice.
“My neck and shoulders hurt so bad,” I whine. Stiffness from the whiplash is already affecting my ability to relax, and any movement in my neck makes me see stars—and not in the good way.
“Can you find a comfortable position if you sit all the way up?” Knox asks, moving behind the couch he’d laid me on.
I attempt to do as he says, and I’m about to tell himno wayuntil I feel his giant hands land on my shoulders and start kneading gently. He’s applying enough pressure for me to feel it, but not so much that it causes me to tense under his touch, and before I know it, the pressure in my head is lessening. Whether it’s because of his hands or the meds, I can’t be sure, but I don’t even care at this point.
The last coherent thought I have is,I hope I don’t drool when I pass out.
Right before myface smashes against the water, something pulls me back. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to not go under, but I don’t know what stopped me, and I fight it.
“Taylor.”
My name is almost enough to bring awareness to me, but not quite, and I try to lash out again. But this time, my arms are pinned to my sides.
“Taylor!”
My name comes again, and my brain fights through the fog.
Opening my eyes, I’m face-to-face with Knox.
I startle, the events of the last six hours not catching up fast enough for this reality to make sense.
“What the hell?”
“Hey, you’re fine. You’re safe. I just needed to wake you up again.”
Slowly, it all starts coming back.
The concussion. I’m at Knox’s house. On his couc?—
This isn’t a couch. And I’m no longer in my swimsuit.
Oh hell.
“Knox, what happened to my swim trunks?”
It’s not even dark outside yet, so I can see the color rising in his cheeks as he answers.
“They were damp, and I didn’t want to put you to bed in them.” Suddenly, his eyes bug out of his head. “Oh, Jesus, Taylor, I swear I didn’t touch anything or look?—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth to get him to shut up.
“Knox, I honestly don’t care if you seeortouch my dick. I’d just prefer to be awake for itandthat it be standing proudly at attention and not drooping in a medicated stupor when you do so.” A pained expression crosses his face. Not knowing the reason behind it kills me. “Oh, God. What’s that look for?”
Knox shifts uncomfortably before clearing his throat.
“It must not have gotten the memo about medicated drooping.” I don’t realize I’m smiling until Knox says, “I’m hoping that smile means you’re feeling better?”
I take a quick inventory of my current status and am pleased to find that “My head doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did, so that must be a good sign,” I finish out loud.
“I’m sorry I had to wake you, but doctor’s orders and all,” he says shyly, standing next to the bed.
“Thank you for letting me stay with you. I really didn’t want to spend the night at the hospital.”
