Page 17 of Heart Sick

“That’s deep,” she says, and just when I think I’ve misjudged her, she reveals why the only thing I could ever connect with was music. “I want you balls deep in me. You’re so fucking hot. All the other nurses are going to be so jealous when I tell them about this. You have no idea how sexy you are, do you? It took every ounce of willpower not to do this sooner.”

Life is fucking weird.

I know I should probably be flattered, but I just feel so numb…and fucking alone.

But suddenly, something happens, something which has the air becoming thick and electric, as it would just before a thunderstorm. The heavens are about to open and drown us all. But I welcome it. I want to catch the raindrops with my tongue.

I peer off into the distance, over Monique’s head, when the doors slide open and a flicker of warm honey catches my eye. I feel…something, but it’s more than that. It’s the motherfucker in my chest which skips a beat.

On any other day, I would be hoping it wouldn’t restart, but today, that doesn’t happen. I am desperate for it to return to normal rhythm so I can take in the woman who comes into view.

Whois she?

She is strapped to a chair and pushed by the disgusting creep, Noah. I hope he isn’t assigned to take care of her because he’s a filthy asshole. All the nurses have mentioned this. I’m surprised Dr. Norton hasn’t fired his ass.

A sudden possession overtakes me and I envision ripping off Noah’s scrawny arms and beating him to death with them. I’ve never felt this before.

I can’t take my eyes off her. It feels almost sacrilegious to do so. Her hair is a beautiful golden brown and I imagine the summer sun highlighting the blonde throughout. Her face is utterly enchanting. I literally can’t look away.

The infernal bastard in my chest begins to beat stronger, a joyous tune because it seems to have found its home. How does this make any sense?

She looks small, but I don’t allow her size to fool me because I get the feeling if she wasn’t strapped to the chair, drugged out of her mind, she would be kicking Noah’s ass. I want to see her up close, but I suddenly remember Monique’s hand is still around my cock.

“Oh, you’re so hard.”

Yes, I am, but that has nothing to do with Monique.

Noah wheels the woman away and parks her chair under the other pergola across from us. She is far away now, but it doesn’t matter. I can smell her cherry blossom perfume. I can hear her jovial laughter. I want to know her, but I feel like I already do.

Images once again flash before me, but I don’t recognize a single one.

Suddenly, everything quietens, akin to the calm before a storm. I beg her to look at me.

I need it.

I want it.

And on cue, she lifts her chin and although a field of roses separates us, I feel it. We lock eyes and everything shifts and she becomes my focal point. The epicenter to why I am here.

My mouth parts as I’m about to come, and I can feel her watching me closely because she knows, she knows what is happening beneath this blanket. Even though I can’t see her clearly, I see her in my mind. My mind, my body…his heart recognizes her.

And in my mind, I see her rolling her eyes and smirking, and if that isn’t the hottest thing I have ever seen, then take my eyeballs because I don’t need them anymore.

And only when she leans down, her soft lips tickling my ear as she gives me permission, whispering, “Come,” do I do as she says.

I come so hard, but it’s still not enough because it’s not Monique’s hand I want. I feel like a bastard, but to Monique, I’m only someone to brag about. This isn’t going to inspire sonnets anywhere.

When I return to the now, the woman is staring off into space and I wonder if maybe I imagined the whole thing. Is that how fucked up I am?

Monique stands and reaches into her pocket for some tissues to clean herself off.

She stands in the way, and I don’t hide my displeasure that she’s blocking my view. She turns over her shoulder to see who I’m looking at.

“Oh, gosh, not you too.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance.

It seems I’m not the only one who is enchanted.

“What’s her name?”

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