Page 58 of Wild Love
I sit up, and the smell of something greasy and fried hits my nose. My mouth waters. “What is this?”
“It’s lunch.” She drops it in my hands and then goes to the kitchen and gets a cold ice pack, and swaps it out with the warm one on my knee. “Is that okay? Do you need anything else?”
She takes a seat on the chair, kicks off her shoes, and pulls her feet up under her. Her brows pinch together. “Maverick?”
The concern in her tone snaps me out of it. “Sorry. What?”
“Are you okay? You look a little pale?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Perfect.”
She keeps staring at me. My chest tightens, and I’m struggling to come up with something funny or teasing to reassure her I’m fine. I am fine, but I’m caught off guard that she thought of me while she was gone, that it occurred to her that I might want something to eat. It’s dumb, really.
“You brought me food.”
“Yeaaah,” she says, slowly drawing out the word. “I thought you might be hungry. No biggie, if you’re not. It’s grilled chicken and sweet potato fries. I know sweet potato fries aren’t healthy, but—”
“Thank you,” I interrupt her, and my voice cracks, so I clear it again.
She hits me with a smile that chases away the loneliness. “Welcome.”
18
Dakota
I throwmyself into my new job and ease into living with Johnny. He made room in the living room for my furniture, which we never use, but I love seeing it every day.
Another thing I love seeing every day? Johnny, shirtless. I know, I know. I hate myself a little for admitting it even to myself.
But I’m going on a date tonight with a guy I met online. Marco is twenty-three and a grad student at UMN. He seems nice, and he’s cute-ish. I’m not sure he’s my soul mate, our conversations so far have been stilted and a little awkward, but I’m holding out hope that we’re better in person. And even if it’s a total waste, hopefully, it’ll clear my mind so I stop having dirty fantasies about my new hot roommate.
Dressed and ready for work, I walk out of my room to find Johnny three feet away doing pull-ups in the doorway of his room. He put up some adjustable bar, and, wow, his back is impressive.
“Morning,” he chirps as he continues to lower and lift his body.
I force my gaze down and mutter the greeting back.
“Smoothie is on the counter.”
“You’re too good to me.” I pick it up and take a drink. He has really improved on my morning drink, and it tastes even better when I don’t have to make it.
He joins me in the kitchen, hopping around on one foot.
“Where are your crutches?”
“My bedroom, I think. I don’t know. I’m good.”
I shake my head and move closer to him so he can lean on me. “When do you go back to the doctor?”
“Today, actually.”
“You didn’t say anything. Do you need me to drive you?”
He grins. “Nah, I’m good. Though I do like when you go all mama bear on me.”
I roll my eyes. “You really make a girl regret being nice.”
He chuckles.
