After four full days of bed rest, Neecy couldn’t take it anymore. She was bored beyond anything and tired of sitting or laying around. So, when Yager left the room to get her something to drink, she slipped out of bed and slowly made her way downstairs.
As she carefully and slowly walked, her free hand against the wall to keep her steady, she marveled at the rest of Yager’s house. She’d felt like his apartment was luxurious even with all that manly steel. But his house was just astounding.
Tasteful, comfortable, inviting. She could easily see herself spending time here.
Dammit. She’d been afraid this would happen. Afraid she’d get comfortable.
Afraid she’d let Yager in. And dammit, she had. He’d barely left her side for four days and he had yet to get cranky about it. She moved, he was up asking her what she needed. She sighed, he rubbed the back of her neck. She burped from all that damn soup, and he chuckled.
His treatment of her should annoy the living hell out of her, but it didn’t.
Actually, she liked it. A lot. It almost made her forget what she was really scared about.
Neecy made it down the stairs without Yager catching her, but as she reached the last step Mike stepped around the corner. He looked at her with one raised eyebrow. “What are you doing out of bed, young lady?”
“Don’t you start, Molinski. I couldn’t take it anymore. So I’m making a break for it. And what happened to your face? Did something peck you?”
“I’m not discussing it.” His adorable blue eyes strayed to her hand gripping the handrail. Yeah, getting to the living room wouldn’t be easy, but she was willing to take it one slow step at a time.
Mike moved up close to her. “I swear, Lawrence. You spoiled chicks.”
“Yeah. Catholic orphanages are known for the way they spoil their kids.”
He smiled as he reached down, wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her up. He carefully avoided touching her major wounds and didn’t jostle her tied arm.
“Well aren’t you gallant for a boy from the ‘hood,” she joked, relieved she wouldn’t have to make that walk to the living room.
“Don’t make me drop you, sweetie.”
The pair walked into the living room and right into Yager. He had her requested juice box in his hand and the deepest frown possible on his face. Glaring, he watched the two.
Mike didn’t hesitate. “Take her.” He practically threw Neecy into Yager’s arms, then grabbed the juice box and walked away.
“Don’t look at me like that. I couldn’t stand another second trapped in that room.”
“Fine.”
Yager walked her over to the couch and sat her down. Shoved the television remote into her hand and a book on the lives of computer hackers in her lap.
“Happy now?”
She smiled up at him, knowing it would annoy him. “Ecstatic.”
With a grunt, he headed back to the kitchen. A minute later, he came back out and handed her another juice box. Then he stretched out on the couch, laid his head in her lap—after pushing the book out of his way—and went to sleep.
Yager woke up when it was dark outside. His head was still in Neecy’s lap, but the Crows now filled the room. Not the birds—thankfully. The women. They spoke and laughed in whispers and he realized they were trying not to wake him up.
Yawning, he turned on his back and looked up into Neecy’s battered but beautiful face.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Sleep okay?”
“Yup. I had your sweet scent to keep me company.”
“Awww,” all the Crows sighed out.
“Shut up or I’m calling my birds,” Neecy barked.
“Someone’s bitchy,” one of the Crows laughed then the sound on the television went up as did the Gathering’s conversation. He glanced over and realized that yes, they were actually watching reruns of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”
Neecy’s free hand slid through his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed. Man, he could easily get used to this. She fit perfectly into his world. Even injured and cranky as all hell. The way she fit in his arms when asleep. The way she threatened to spit soup at him if he brought her anymore. The way she smiled at him when she caught him staring at her.
Neecy was perfect. Well…perfect for him. And he wanted her healthy and well and living with him forever.
“They’re getting ready to order some Chinese food. Want any?”
“Yeah. I’m starving.”
Janelle walked in from the backyard. “You put your hands on me again, Molinski, and you’ll be scratching those tiny balls with a claw.”
Yager winced as Janelle stormed into the room, leaving the doors wide open. Goddamn, Mike. Of course, one look at the big blonde girl’s face and Yager was sure she could handle herself quite nicely, but still, no touching without permission. Especially when it came to the Crows. “We’re going to need a credit card,” she announced to the room. “The Ravens ordered half the menu. You’d think they’d never eaten before.”
“Didi’s got a card,” Katie offered as she lounged in one of his massage recliners.
She had it going full blast and appeared to be enjoying herself.
“Then where the hell is Didi?” When no one answered, “Didi!”
Now Neecy winced. “Yo! Janelle! Could you act like ya got a little class?”
“Could you,” Janelle mimicked back to Neecy, “back the fuck off?”
Neecy glanced at Yager and he suddenly realized she was embarrassed. He didn’t know why, though. Especially when Mike ran backward into the room through the doors Janelle just came through. Yager could hear Tye yelling, “Go long, Bro! Go long!” Then the football hit Mike in the chest. He caught it, but it flipped him over the couch, his head slamming against Yager’s two thousand dollar coffee table.
“Fuck! Where’d this table come from?”
Now he was embarrassed. Did Mike not have any sense at all? Stupid question.
Of course he didn’t.
Didi stormed into the room, the National Enquirer in her hand. “You know what I would love from y’all? If I could take a shit in peace just once in my goddamn life!”
Neecy rubbed her eyes. “Oh, my God. This is spiraling,” she muttered low so only he could hear.
Yager turned on his side, facing her, and whispered, “Now that you’re getting better, they’re getting comfortable.”
“God, I’m sorry, Yager.”
“About what?”
She glanced around the room. They were all talking at once. A bunch of loud, noisy birds. “For them getting so fucking ‘comfortable.’ ”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He motioned to Mike. “Really. There’s nothing.”
Neecy looked over and they both watched as Mike—who recovered quite nicely from his dance with the coffee table and now stood by the couch—decided to rest his forearm on the top of Arri’s head. She had been standing quietly by him waiting to put in her food order, Yager guessed, based on the fact she held the menu in her hand. Painfully shy, she probably hated that Mike just made her the center of attention.
“Hey! Get off me!” She slapped at his hands.
“Oh, come on. Like you’ve never been used as a stool before.”
Gasping in indignation, Arri jumped away from him. “You…you…”
“Say it, Arri,” Janelle urged.
Apparently that was all the prompting little Arri needed. “You a-‐hole!”
The room grew quiet. Everyone staring at Arri.
“What?” she finally asked.
Janelle sighed. “Katie.”
Without relinquishing her chair, and therefore her massage, “Mike Molinski. You put your motherfuckin’ hands on me again and I’ll cut off your nipples and make them into a fashionable headband.”