Seven Years of Bad Luck

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Authors: J.L. Mac
Tags: Contemporary
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the effort it took made my head throb harder. I leaned in against his firm muscles. My head lolled against his pectorals—nothing to complain about. “My head,” I groaned.
    “Come on.” I was in no condition to argue with his demand, so when a black Cadillac Escalade appeared before us curbside, I allowed him to usher me into his car, and he belted me in. He took the keys from the valet and got behind the wheel.
    “My car.” My eyes were shut, but I could smell him beside me, and I could feel him looking at me. I could feel his arm resting against mine on the console between our seats. The contact between us was initiating a lightning storm of nerves deep in my stomach. It felt like butterflies on steroids.
    “I’ll take care of it.”
    “My sketches?” I began to worry at the thought of my beautiful sketches being scattered and lost in the large airport corridor.
    “I have them.”
    Man of many words.
    “Do you take care of random strangers all the time?”
    “No, just you.”
    I had asked the question with intent to be sarcastic, but he seemed to answer with sincerity.
    “Are you an artist? Did you do these?” I peeked through a cracked eyelid to see Ben shuffling through the many sketches while we waited at a red light.
    “Hey, give me those, and no, I’m no artist, but those are mine. My friend is an artist, and this is his work.” I had both eyes open, and the sun was much too bright to keep them that way for long. I snapped my sensitive eyes shut.
    “My apologies. I didn’t mean to intrude, but can I just say that these are beautiful? What will you do with them if you don’t mind my asking?” I cracked my eyes open again to attempt a fitting answer. He looked at me quizzically, and I couldn’t help but admire those beautiful blue-green eyes of his.
    “I, uh, I will have them… permanently.” It was a highly vague response, and I expected him to push for a more specific answer, but he didn’t. He just nodded his head and focused back on the traffic around us.
    “So, if you are not the artist, then who is?”
    “His name is Fred.”
    “Your boyfriend, I assume.”
    “No. Not my boyfriend. Fred is a friend of mine. He lives back home in El Paso.” Even in profile, I could see Ben’s face grow serious, and his brows bunched together.
    “I thought you said you lived here when we met in Book Ends .”
    I felt the need to reassure him. “Well, yes. I only just moved to Dallas from El Paso. I had business to attend to in El Paso; that’s where I’ve come from today.” I put my fingers to my temples and began rubbing at the unforgiving pain there.
    “I see.”
    We arrived at the hospital a short while later. Ben sat beside me in the waiting area and did a good job of distracting me from the awful pounding headache I had.
    “God, I hope this doesn’t take all night. You know you can leave. I appreciate your help and all, but really I’m fine, and I can call my friend to come get me.”
    He turned his intense gaze on me. “I won’t leave you alone here.” The moment he spoke those words, I felt my face drop, and my heart clenched in my chest. I couldn’t help but remember that the last time I was in a hospital, someone else spoke those exact words to me but for far different reasons. I felt the threat of tears coming, and I did my best to battle them away. Ben noticed the shift in my expression.
    “Hey, are you all right?” He leaned in close to me when he spoke and placed his warm hand on my knee. I could feel his breath against my skin again, and it had the same effect on me as it did earlier in the airport. It was warm and coaxing against my body. I felt the urge to wrap my arms around him, but ignored it.
    “Yeah, I’m okay.” My voice sounded unconvincing.
    “You don’t look okay.” I was getting uncomfortable and worried that if he kept pushing, I would start crying, adding to my humiliation.
    “Really, I’m fine. Why are you even here? I don’t need a sitter.” My

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