Her Soldier (That Girl #3) (3 page)

Hands are immediately on me, wrapping me up, pulling me back to a standing position, but this time Beau has me cradled against him. He’s completely holding me up. The top of my forehead fits perfectly below his chin.

“Take it easy.” Beau’s chin rests on the top of my head as my fists clutch his cotton shirt. “Jenni, your injuries are very serious. You have two broken ribs on your right side and several serious bruises. Not to mention the cast on your left arm.”

His words make me wiggle my fingers on my left hand. I knew it didn’t feel right, but in my hazy condition hadn’t even noticed it wrapped in a hard cast. More tears spill from my eyes at the full realization of how seriously my body has been harmed. It’s not like the other times, when I could simply cover the evidence with a long sweater or hoodie. There was no way to conceal these. I’ll have to face them head on day by day.

After mentally berating myself once again, I finally remember why I stood up in the first place.

“I have to go pee.” Tears clog my voice as I try to speak loudly enough for Beau to hear.

Without words, he slowly and very gently guides me over to the entry of his bedroom. Clearing his throat, he continues to maneuver me through piles of clothes and miscellaneous items. I’m unable to study my surroundings too long, as my concentration is elsewhere.

“I’ll wait right here.” Beau leans up against the white doorjamb, which leads into a tiny bathroom.

Taking my first step from him, I shriek in pain. Without his grip on my right side I can’t take another step. Frozen, I can’t even bear to cry or scream again. I simply want to die, seeing no light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t seem to do anything for myself and want life to end.

Hands grab me again; Beau is on my right side, and without question leads me straight to the toilet. In one swift motion he faces me to him, guiding me until the back of my legs are pressed against the chilled porcelain. I feel his hands slowly drag down my pants while his deep brown eyes stay magnetized on mine. Silent tears tumble down my cheeks. I have no words. He never breaks eye contact with me while he pulls down my panties and gently eases me down into a sitting position. Once I’m settled on the toilet, he backs up again, never changing his very serious facial expression.

I hear his body fall back against the doorjamb and know he’s waiting for me with the door wide open. Moments pass by while I try to digest the whole scene.
I can’t even walk, let alone get to the bathroom by myself.
My brain reels from what Beau just did for me without question. I force my bladder to release, but nothing happens, and then once again I’m distracted by my thoughts.

“Beau, could you please shut the door?”

I watch as his very masculine tanned arm reaches around the corner and shuts the door.

“Thank you.” My voices cracks in an odd way, and I feel silly when the words leave my mouth.

Different parts of my body begin to wake up as I focus on peeing. My head begins with a steady throb, sharp pains gyrate through my right side with each breath I take, and my legs begin to shake. The shaking slowly creeps up into my torso. I feel chilled, trying to calm my trembling body.

“I can’t pee.”

Yet again I feel foolish telling Beau this information, but my need to get back to his couch is greater than anything else. The door opens, but this time he doesn’t make eye contact. Rather, he walks with his back to me to the sink and turns on the water. In the next moment he is bent over the bathtub turning on that faucet.

“It’s an old trick my grams taught me. Just listen to the water.”

Beau doesn’t leave the room this time. He stands there with his back to me. The sound of the running water is powerful and also very loud, causing my bladder to finally cooperate with me. And even though Beau is standing mere feet away, I finally pee and it’s the best feeling I’ve had in hours. Flushing the toilet, I try to stand again.

“Done?” he asks with his back still toward me.

“Yes, but I can do it this time.”

“I don’t think so.” Beau faces me again, staring me down with those eyes. “Don’t fight me on this. You’re in too much pain.”

Again he reaches down, finding the hem of my pants and pulling them up. A slight smile spreads across his face.

“Oops, panties first.”

I let out a little giggle as he reaches back down, placing my panties in the perfect position and then readjusting my pants.

“Whose are these, anyway?”

“Mine. I didn’t know what else to put you in.”

And as if seeing the question all over my face he immediately answers it.

“I brought them to the hospital, and the nurse helped you get into them.”

A sigh of relief fills the tiny room along with a slight moan of pain.

“Thank God, but I don’t even remember getting here, Beau.”

“You’re on lot of pain pills.”

Beau once again maneuvers me, gliding me over to the sink.

“You don’t have to look in the mirror.” Beau’s strong hands brush all my hair to one side of my neck. “Just wash your hands. I see past the bruising and swelling. Jenni, you’re a beautiful woman.”

I do as I’m told, not ready to look into a mirror yet.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Well, I’d like to think I’m doing it because I’m a good guy.”

“You are a good guy. Thank you, Beau.”

“You don’t know me, Jenni. I try, but I’m not any good.”

I turn around in his arms, facing him; Beau doesn’t lose his grip on me at any point.

“You saved me.” Standing on my tiptoes, I place a gentle kiss on his cheek. I feel the roughness of his stubble, and something happens when my lips are on his skin. Something deep down in my gut twists, and I don’t know if it’s a warning sign to run or a sign of something else.

Beau guides me again through his room, and this time my eyes are able to focus on items. I zone in on a picture of a baby girl on his nightstand, next to a pair of dog tags, and questions run wild in my head. I push down the curiosity and concentrate on making it back to the couch. Even with Beau at my side, the pain is getting worse with each step, and the main source of it is still settled in my right side.

“You need to try to eat and take some pills.”

We pass the couch as Beau steers me over to a small table with two chairs. I notice a dish.

“I made you this. You need to take a couple bites so these meds don’t tear up your belly too bad.”

Sitting down, I clearly smell the scent of the pizza pocket in front of me and then hear my stomach growl. Beau shoots me a look with a raised eyebrow.

“Guess you know what’s best.” I shrug.

I can tell Beau is dying to pry at certain questions, so I decide to clear the air once and for all.

“I don’t have parents. They both left me a long time ago. They couldn’t stand my annoying personality. My aunt Danielle took me in, and she’s my only family. I only have two true friends who will worry about where I am, but not too much because I’m known to disappear for periods of time.” Dropping my head, I focus on the silver fork lying next to my plate. “You could say I have a track record of making bad decisions and having an addictive personality. If it’s all right, I’d just like to crash here for the next couple days until I can walk.”

My face burns after the question leaves my mouth. I feel like a fool asking to stay and basically spilling my guts to him. Internally, I cringe. What the fuck, outwardly I cringe and would give anything to be able to stand and walk out that door. Too ashamed to look up at Beau, I keep my head down and nibble at the pepperoni pizza pocket in front of me. Two white pills are slid into my view. Beau leaves his hand on the table near the pills, and when I don’t look up he clutches my hand, squeezing it a bit.

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed. I’m not sure I’d let you go right now anyway.”

His words relax me somewhat, making it possible for me look up at him. His face is still serious with a touch of comfort to it. And when I make eye contact he doesn’t let go of my hand. Beau picks up both of the pills and holds them to my mouth, and naturally I open up for him. Before I have time to grab the glass of water he has it at my lips. The pills go down easily, and I finish the rest of my food while Beau busies himself in the kitchen. My fingers find my lips, caressing them and remembering the feel of his touch on them and his scruff from when I kissed him. There’s something about this man.

I shake my head in disbelief. This is just like the typical Jenni, falling for the nearest, hottest guy with a pulse. I get sucked in so easily, and it’s always for the wrong reasons. I sit here broken and fantasizing about a complete stranger.

“Are you done?” A deep voice drags me from my thoughts, and when I look up Beau is standing before me.

I simply nod, unable to talk from everything swirling around inside me. It’s like one poisonous thought after the next, with a vicious roller coaster of emotions as a chaser.

“I gave you two painkillers. We need to stay on top of them to control your pain. They will probably make you sleepy.”

I nod again, saying nothing, and feel myself falling off the deep end for this man. I try to remind myself to not get tangled up again in my masochistic cycle of pain and torture that always involves men.

“C’mon.” His hand cradles me as he easily carries me to the couch. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

Beau gently places me down on the sofa, now covered in a blue plaid fleece blanket with matching sheets. I know these weren’t here before because the thick material covering the couch was irritating the skin on my arms.

“Thank you for all this.” My hand mindlessly brushes over the soft blanket.

“No problem.” Beau turns around, heading for his bedroom.

My eyes flash toward the large set of windows, seeing nothing but a black sky with a few streetlamps lighting the way. It’s night. He’s going to bed.

“Beau.” The word escapes my mouth before I can even process my next move.

He stops dead in his tracks, not turning to me, but with this back facing me while his hands are perched on his hips.

“Will you stay out here with me?” Tears threaten to pool up again as I ask the question, and my voice trembles.

He says nothing, standing still in the doorway as I cringe with fear and anxiety.

“Never mind, I’ll be fine.” I pause, searching for more words and hating the awkward silence mingling between us. “Um, thanks for making me this bed.”

Beau begins to move again, stepping into his bedroom, flipping the light on, and I can hear some rustling. I take his movement as a no, so I decide to make myself as comfortable as possible on the couch. Balanced at the perfect angle on my left side, I find a position that allows me to breathe easily, and I even let out a slight cough without causing too much pain in my ribs.

The light remains on in Beau’s room, and I can hear each of his movements while he gets himself ready for bed. The sounds of a running faucet, him brushing his teeth, and then some sounds coming from his bathroom. I even hear him let out a little growl and then turn on the shower. The apartment is very tiny, and I swear I can practically smell the steam from his extremely hot shower.

I analyze each one of his moves and try to picture them as he completes each step of his bedtime ritual. Finally, he flips off the light to his bedroom, and my heart deflates a bit. I’m not sure what I was hoping for, but just hearing him move about his space was distracting enough for me not to focus on any other parts of my seriously fucked-up situation.

Moments later, I hear his feet padding across the room. I look up and see Beau standing in the light pouring from his window. He’s clothed in flannel pajama pants with no top on. I only stole a glimpse of him shirtless before, and that was in a sleep and drug induced state. Now, only beginning to feel the effects of painkillers, I have a much better view. The sight of bare, tan chest makes me smile. My eyes not so discreetly follow the line of muscles down to the top of his pants, and yep, he has the perfect outlined V.

“Jenni.”

“Beau, please stay with me.”

This time I don’t hesitate or act ashamed of my question. I force my voice to be strong and demanding. The truth is I need to be held by this man tonight.

He lifts his hands from his hips and slowly drags them through his wet hair, contemplating my question. His hands finally rest on the back of his head while he stares me down.

“This is a slippery slope, Jenni.”

“I’m sorry.” My fingers pick at the edge of the dainty seams on the blanket. I avoid looking at his face. “I need you now, Beau.”

In a series of movements, Beau climbs onto the couch, and not the way I expected him to at all. He’s covering my body with his. I removed the hoodie sweatshirt I was wearing and am left in a white tank top, braless. His upper torso presses into my exposed skin. He’s thoughtful and puts all of his body weight into the couch instead of on me.

“Can I kiss you?” Beau drops his forehead to mine, softly brushing his lips against mine. “I need to kiss you, Jenni.”

I nod. Beau’s lips touch mine tentatively at first. The scabs covering them don’t distract him from his mission. I find myself kissing him back, wanting more and more of his taste. My fingers slowly curl in his hair as he continues to kiss me. He doesn’t push for more or explore any other part of me. Closing my eyes, I take in all of him. His kiss is protective and intense. So many emotions are conveyed through the simple kiss, making me want more of him, but knowing it’s not the time or place.