Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I was desperate to shed my clothing, to crawl all over him and make him mine. Yet there wasn’t any further we could go in the parking lot. I had deliberately parked there to stop myself from going too far. I knew I couldn’t trust myself or him if we were alone in a bed.
It had to end. I took hold of my senses and detached my breast from his mouth. Tucking the girls back into the bra, I leaned back, licking my lips. He seemed to sense that it was over, releasing my shirt and lightening his touch. I slid off him, back into the driver’s seat.
“I’m going to take you home,” I whispered.
“I can’t convince you to come in?” he responded.
My breath caught, imagining all the fun we could have rolling around in his bed. Somewhere, practical Aly took charge and shut that door. There would be plenty of time for sex just as soon as we ironed out all the details. Gina’s conversation had shaken me more than I realized. What if Linc wanted nothing more than a quick fuck? What if that was all I wanted? We were too close to risk all the drama that mixed signals would create. No, I would take him home and drop him off.
Linc saw it in my eyes as I pulled backward out of the parking lot. He relaxed into the seat, letting air out in a tired stream. I felt like a vixen, working him up and then letting him down. It couldn’t be helped. I wasn’t going to scratch that itch until I was sure that no one was going to get hurt.
13
LINCOLN
Aly dropped me off and I was able to coax her into one more passionate kiss before she playfully kicked me out of her car. I couldn’t stop grinning. She drove away, her eyes sparkling, all the anxiety over Gina’s intrusive questions forgotten.
I was glad she’d hit the brakes. Aly was too special to just climb into bed with. She wanted to go slow, and I respected that. Still, my body felt like a coil that had been wound too tightly.
Going inside, I skipped the stupid TV shows and went to bed. For the first time since the VA hospital, I was able to stretch out and it felt so much more comfortable than the couch. I kept my shoes on. If I was going to trade the couch for the bed, I was at least going to be able to get up at a moment’s notice.
Mrs. Washington had put clean sheets on, and the blankets made me feel warm and comforted. I wondered if this was what the rest of the world felt like every night before drifting off. I thought about Aly and our hot make-out session in the car. I would never look at the customer’s parking lot the same again.
I slept all the way through to the next day, surprising myself and making me re-evaluate my aversion to the bed. My phone was ringing from the nightstand. I picked it up and pressed the button to answer.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Matthews?”
“Yes.”
“This is Ryan from the VA hospital.”
I sat up, rubbing my eyes with my free hand, “Yes?”
“We’d like you to come in today so we can discuss your benefits.”
It was the call I had been waiting for. One of the counselors at the VA in Georgia had helped me apply for benefits, but they said I would have to wait two to four months before my name came up. In the meantime, I had been establishing myself in Singer’s Ridge and was doing a pretty good job of it. Still, with help from the VA, I could eliminate my rent payments, possibly get some money for food, and consider a better education. Whatever they were offering, I was going to take.
“When?” I asked.
“Can you be here at ten?” the counselor responded.
“Yeah,” I answered.
I swung my legs out of bed, delighted to discover that I was already dressed and ready to go. I checked Uber but the closest driver was almost a half hour away. I needed to get to the VA administration building in Nashville and I only had an hour to do it. By the time Uber got here, turned around, and went back to the city, I would be at least ten minutes late in the best of circumstances. I needed a ride.
I called Porter at work. “How did last night go?”
“Fine,” he said.
“Is Gina upset?”
“Not really.”
“Good.” I rushed into the real reason I had called. “I have an appointment at the VA today. I’m sorry, but they just called. I didn’t know about it until now.”
“Okay, no problem. You can take the day off.”
“Thanks, but I also need a ride.” Suddenly, it didn’t feel so bad to ask for help, at least not from Porter. He had a way of quietly reassuring you that he had your back, as if all the time he spent in recovery had taught him a thing or two about responsibility. I knew he hadn’t seen combat, but I felt we had shared a similar journey. Maybe he was further along than I was, having a few sober years under his belt. If the service was like addiction, then I was newly clean and struggling to maintain my sobriety.