Page 25 of Tucker
Giggling,she makes an attempt to leap and grab the bottle. Her body lands against mine,making me sway a little and my hand wraps around her back to keep her fromfalling backward.
Hershirt has ridden up and my palm rests on warm skin while her fruity breathwafts across my neck. It’s like I never had a choice. I don’t know who movedfirst, but our lips slam together as if it’s the most natural thing in theworld.
Myhand moves to her plump little ass, and she moans into my mouth as I dart mytongue between her lips. The bottle is forgotten on the counter as she fists myshirt and kisses me harder. I slide both hands under her ass and scoop her ontothe counter, never breaking the kiss. I never want to. Her hands are in my hairnow, tugging it, and it seems like an hour passes before we break apart.
Breathinghard, I look down at her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. She’s every bit asturned on as I am. She’s also shit faced which means I can’t even though I wantto. The last thing I want is for her to think I took advantage of her,especially when I know she has been sexually abused in the past.
Realitysmacks me hard in the face when I remember that fact. Unfortunately, my cockdoesn’t give two shits about any of these reasons. It’s trying to bust outthrough my zipper. I have to stop this. I have to get away from her.
Shelooks up at me, and I watch her face fall as she sees me pulling back. “I-youshould go to bed,” I tell her. Grabbing the bottle of bourbon, I turn and fleeto my room where I know I’ll be jerking off to the memory of her body pressedto mine.
* * * *
Asickening thumping has taken over my head and my stomach bubbles with oldalcohol and regret.
Ikissed Leah.
Ikissed the hell out of Leah.
Andthen I left her sitting alone in the kitchen, her lips still swollen from theintensity of our kiss. I got carried away and scared myself at how out ofcontrol I let us get. I was seconds away from stripping her clothes off anddoing something we’d both regret.
Afterthat kiss…I don’t know how I stopped myself from taking it further. She tastedso good. Her lips were soft and plump and perfect. If I’m being honest, it wasthe best kiss of my life.
Straining,I try to hear if she’s up, but the house is silent. No matter how much I feellike warmed over hell, I have to get up and moving. Today is Thanksgiving and Ihave to be at the hospital.
Ashower helps, but I know I need to put something in my stomach. Leah’s door isopen as it usually is when she isn’t in her room, so I assume she’s downstairs.I don’t know what to say to her. She thinks Dare is the only obstacle we’d faceif we started a relationship, and I can’t tell her how much more fucked up thanthat things are.
Itturns out I don’t need to say anything to her. She’s already left. There’s anote on the counter saying she fed the animals and reminding me I’m invited toDare’s for Thanksgiving dinner today. Judging by the note, it’s like nothingever happened. A small part of me hopes she was drunker than I realized anddoesn’t remember, but a larger part of me would be devastated. That kiss wasphenomenal. I don’t want to be the only one to remember it.
Myphone lights up with a text from Dare. Shit. Did she tell him?
Dare:We expect you here, asshole. Six p.m. Ayda made homemade noodles.
Ihad no intention of going, since I’ll be at the hospital all day, but there’sno chance in hell now.
Witha sigh, I eat a slice of toast and drink my coffee, trying to shake off theliquor and memories of the night before. Today will be hard enough as it is.
Thetraffic is light as I make my way to the hospital. Most travelers have alreadyreached their destinations, I guess, plus most businesses are closed. Thehamburger place on the corner is open at least. I make a note of it since I’llmost likely want to stop for something on the way home.
Thesmell of the long term wing of the hospital smacks me in the face like italways does, turning my already queasy stomach. A few nurses smile and greet meas I walk down the white hallways I know as well as my own house.
WhenI tap on the kitchen door, one of the usual cafeteria workers lets me in. “Hey,Tucker, good to see you. Are you here to help out?”
“Justpoint me in the right direction.” This part of the hospital is for long term orpermanent residents, kind of like a nursing home. Most of the patients haveserious illnesses that make residing here instead of a home more reasonable.Not to mention, some of them are very young.
Likemost hospitals, it isn’t well funded and the only reason there is anyacknowledgement or celebration of holidays is because the staff and some of therelatives of patients volunteer.
“Canyou peel those potatoes and dice them up?” she asks.
“I’mon it.”
Thenext few hours pass as I peel vegetables, wash pots, and help set up the buffettable in the multipurpose room. Some of the other volunteers have decorated itwith brown and yellow streamers, and some of the kids who live here have madepaper turkeys and pilgrims.
It’safternoon when everything is ready and the patients are brought in. Nursescirculate to keep an eye on everyone while volunteers spoon out plates of foodand sit with the residents to eat.
Thisyear I’m the mashed potato guy. I put a scoop of mashed potatoes on each plate,listening to the laughter and conversations as patients come through the line,usually with a family member or volunteer helping them. There’s an unbelievableamount of joy in the room considering their situations. A lot of these peoplewill never leave this wing of the hospital.
Onceeveryone has a full plate, I head for the door. “Tucker! Either eat with us ortake a plate!” one of the night nurses calls out.
