Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“Sir, yes, sir,” she tosses over her shoulder before climbing in. I don’t reply. Instead, I enjoy the unobstructed view Kyra is giving me. Her clothes cover more than her normal gym attire. Her jeans are formfitting, the top too for that matter, and damn, it’s like I didn’t just jack my cock in the shower.
“Jesus, busting my balls on the daily,” I mutter, grabbing the seatbelt and holding it out to her.
“You’d be bored otherwise,” she’s quick to reply, taking the belt out of my hand. I make sure our fingers touch. Exactly what I’ve been doing the past two weeks when everything changed. Anytime she’s near, I’ll find an excuse to get close or touch her. Not once has she pulled away. On the contrary—she sinks closer into my body, her fingers will linger when ours graze, and the looks she sends my way tell me more than enough.
“Damn straight.” I close the door, grab my crutch, head to the driver’s side door, and climb inside. I’ve mastered getting in without looking like a complete dipshit, using the grab handle and my right leg while the crutch stays planted on the ground with my left side. I guess I can thank the big guy above or whatever else is out there for not fucking up my right leg. Then I’d have to learn how to drive all over again or get some kind of rig outfitted. I don’t even want to think how long that would take.
Kyra stays quiet, doesn’t ask if I need help. Once my ass is planted in the seat, I pick up the crutch and place it in the backseat. Kade gave me so much shit for buying a four-door truck. I knew better. While Florida is the sunshine state, the weather can turn on you in an instant, and the last thing I need or want is for my shit to get soaked in the bed of the truck.
It doesn’t take us long to leave my place on the beachside of New Smyrna, driving down the small road that leads out to the main hub of our downtown area. The tires eat up the red brick road. We’re early enough in the day, especially for a weekday, that our streets aren’t full of beachgoers. We remain silent the entire way, enjoying the comfortable silence as we cross over the drawbridge, then hit the main road away from our beach town in order to get on the interstate. I’d have much rather stayed local, as in ten minutes up the road, but the VA doesn’t feel the same way. You do what they say, or nothing is covered by insurance, and the costs for this are pretty damn steep.
“You okay?” I ask once we’re cruising down the interstate, driving with the flow of traffic. Kyra has been quiet since we left the house. Something has to be on her mind. Usually, she’ll start a conversation or start fiddling with music. Today, not so much.
“I am. Just thinking.” I’m about to respond when both of our phones go off at the same time. I glance at my screen. A weather alert appears. I’ll have to take a look once we’re at the doctor’s office. “Well, shit, the hurricane we saw brewing the past few days is now in full effect and getting closer to landfall on the west coast. Dad will be calling soon enough. I never did understand him. War zones, no problem. A hurricane, he’s another level.”
“It’s a control thing. Even in war, there are certain elements we know what we’re getting into. Hurricanes create mass destruction, tornadoes come out of nowhere, and flooding only adds to the shit show,” I explain as I flip my blinker to merge onto the off-ramp.
“I guess I can understand that way of thinking, then. Maybe.” She takes a deep breath. My eyes leave the road for a minute to try and get a feel for her. What I don’t expect is to see her looking my way.
“Since we’re over here, after this we’ll grab some food then get supplies.” There’s a big-box store. I've got plenty of food at my house, and a whole home generator. We should be good, but it wouldn’t hurt to stock up non-perishables and other shit.
“Alright.” She pauses. “Are you nervous about today?” I take a moment to compose my thoughts. Depending on how well I’m healing is all dependent on how today goes.
“Yes and no. I’ve done everything I can. All I can do now is leave it in the doctor’s hands. The pain is gone; that’s a win in my book.” Our conversation dwindles down as we turn into the VA hospital. Kyra taking my hand in hers is a surprise, but I don’t pull mine away. Instead, I squeeze it once before threading our fingers together.