Sharing Jack’s Bed: Part 4
We worked our way back as quickly as we could, his arms around me the entire way. They had never felt better. Within minutes we were back at the Mercer house, brushing snow off of ourselves and each other after kicking off our shoes. He took me upstairs and to the bathroom to look at my elbow, which I had landed on harder than I thought. Jack set me up on the sink before starting to clean out the cut I had managed. Just as he finished up I looked him square in the eye. “What’s the prognosis, doctor? Will I live?” Setting his hands on my hips, he stepped so that his body was in between my legs. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you didn’t.” His eyes were purely sincere …