Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“You just have to relax,” Cindy said, sensing my negativity. “You’ll have fun, I promise. And no dick pics.”
I laughed, turning around just as our boss walked in the door. I snatched my phone back and shoved it into my pocket, without even shutting down the app. Cindy began digging into her meal as if nothing were wrong. I felt my face go hot and washed my shame down with a diet cola. If only Porter wasn’t off-limits, that would solve all my problems. Problems, I reminded myself, that began and ended with him.
We were on two different sides of the law. I had to forget him, and fast. Within a few days, he would be a free man, and all I would have were the memories. I had to purge these feelings from my heart before he left, or his absence would eat away at me. And there was only one way to accomplish that—by talking to him.
It made sense in a kind of backward way. If I could prove to myself that my interest in him was purely professional, by spending time with him, then I would be happy to see him go. His graduation from the program would mean only good things for him: a return to his friends and his job. I would be able to move on and care for other patients in the same professional manner, and that would be the end of it.
I resolved to seek Porter out more often from here until his release date. I needed to prove that what I was feeling wasn’t anything more than fondness. I waited until the end of my shift, until five minutes before I was supposed to clock out, before going to find him. That way I wouldn’t be taking time away from any other patients for my social call.
I found him in the game room, playing cards with one of the other residents. He set his hand down as soon as I came into view, giving me no excuse to duck out. He met me halfway, maintaining a friendly distance but obviously pleased to see me.
“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing,” I said, feeling like my motives were on display.
“Good.” He gestured towards the doorway, and I agreed. We moved out of the crowd, toward the safety of the nurses’ station. He stopped in the center of the common area, just far enough away from everyone that we could have a private conversation, but in plain view so that no one could accuse us of impropriety. “My therapist says I’m making progress.”
“That’s great,” I cheered. That would mean that he would be leaving soon. The thought brought more heartache than joy, and I scolded myself.
“I was thinking of getting a cat,” he said, changing the subject.
“That’s a good idea,” I said encouragingly. “It will give you someone to care for, and pets provide stress relief too.”
“I’m gonna name it ‘Good.’” He caught my eye with a devilish twinkle.
I laughed. “I guess we can never get the two together, then.”
“Seriously.” He straightened his mouth into a hard line. “I’ll call it ‘Cat.’”
“Why?” I could feel myself leaning in toward him and checked my body language.
“It’s a cat. It won’t know its name,” he argued.
“I’m not so sure.” I hesitated. “I think Evil knows her name.”
“Well, she’s not an ordinary cat,” he said playfully.
“That’s right.” I couldn’t argue. He was scoring points and not in the right direction. Or rather, it was the right direction, just the one that made things more complicated and not less so. “I wanted to tell you I’m off tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He accepted as fact that I cared enough to share my schedule, without asking why. “Grocery shopping? Laundry?”
“A little of both,” I admitted.
“Have fun.” He smiled that disarming smile that made me feel like anything was possible.
I wanted to lean in and kiss him. But that was forbidden, as was hugging or shaking hands. I wondered if I could get away with a fist bump and offered one with a shy smile. He grinned, taking the invitation and setting his knuckles next to mine. That first touch, the only one we had ever been allowed, sent an electric shock through my hand. His was solid yet gentle, applying no more pressure than necessary to make the connection. I didn’t think a fist bump could be erotic, but looking into his eyes, I could see our future in one brilliant flash. We could do so much more than a sterile greeting in an institution. We could—no, we should—be on the beach somewhere, wearing bathing suits and holding hands.
I broke contact a moment later to avoid a lingering touch. It wouldn’t do to have anybody see how much I wanted to dive into Porter’s arms, especially not Porter. I gave him a friendly nod and walked away, ducking into the safety of the locker room. After I had changed my shoes and grabbed my bag, I emerged to see him sitting in the receiving area, reading a magazine. He looked up just briefly as I slipped out the door. One more stolen glance between us, its meaning clear.