Beyond Repair (Broken Girl Book 1) (18 page)

Me:
Please don't leave me.

Callum:
I'm just in the room next door...

Me:
I don't want to be alone.

He walks through my door a second later. I don't move as he climbs into the bed beside me. For the next two minutes we both fight to get comfortable, proving none of us are really used to this situation. It doesn't help that Callum apparently sleeps naked. He clearly hasn't heard of the social etiquette that is pajamas at sleepovers. I should question him about this, but he's doing me a favor and is already starting to snore softly. Besides, it's not like he's attacking me with his man sword. He's politely turned in the opposite direction keeping it at bay. Very gentlemanly of him.

Just as I'm finally not thinking about his member and feeling like I could sleep peacefully, it hits me. I almost want to cry.

"Callum?"

"Hmm."

I let out a short laugh, "I have to pee."

He's too hot. And I don't mean 'here take my panties away' kind of hot. I mean 'holy shit you're like a furnace' hot. He's practically radiating fire and he's wrapped completely around me with his face in my hair. That can't be comfortable for him, I have a lot of hair. I'm not entirely sure how we got into this situation because I definitely wasn't touching him when I fell asleep. However, now it's like we're one person and I'm not sure what my thoughts are about that. Especially seeing as how I can feel is morning glory poking me in the ass cheek, dangerously close to the hell-fucking-no zone. All that is protecting my ass right now is the thin lace panties covering it. Somehow I don't think they're going to save me. He stirs and shifts slightly, pressing harder into me. Luckily his dick moves from immediate accidental anal territory, but enters a whole new area of danger. It pushes right between my legs and is now less than an inch from the throbbing heat between them. I stifle a groan of frustration. This is not good, mostly because it feels kinda good.

How do I always manage to find myself in situations like this? It's like I'm hardwired to make things as awkward as humanly possible. I don't know if I want him to wake up, realize his mistake, and apologize profoundly or if I want him to not wake up and continue to move closer to me. He moves his hand tighter across my hips and nudges the back of my knee with his own. The action forces me to turn over slightly more, giving his invasion of cock better access. Oh fuck. His penis is now pressing on my clit and it's taking everything I have to not rub myself all over it. If I just move to the left a little...

"Shh, Lydia."

I freeze. Pretend to be asleep. That is my only defense right now and I am a master of deception. I used to pretend to be asleep all the time at the nut farm so the nurses wouldn't pester me with their war stories. Just because I'm insane and I express an interest in books, doesn't mean I want
their
story-time every damned day. Plus Callum can't judge me for not moving if I'm as out of it as he is. I close my eyes and force my body to relax against him. It's not like he has a leg to stand on. If he'd just put fucking clothes on, we absolutely wouldn't be here right now.
Thank God he didn't put clothes on
. He murmurs something unrecognizable, mostly muffled by my hair. I stay perfectly still, not wanting to give it away that I am very awake, and very aware of his aroused state, which in turn is making me very aroused. This is a mess. It's a battle to keep my breathing even but I manage it and soon feel myself starting to drift off again. My stupid brain fucks that up very quickly though when it reminds me that I fell asleep with a face full of makeup on and now I probably resemble a demented Halloween clown. I can practically feel the tiny little bacteria ridden germs crawling all over me. I need a shower, and I need it now, but moving means giving up the knowledge that I'm awake. What I need is for Callum to wake up, which will obviously 'wake' me up.

Think, Lydia
. I can't. I can't focus on one thought; there are too many swimming around in my head. The mornings are always the worst. I don't even know what time it is. It's light outside, so it's not my usual rising time of five a.m, which means I've gone longer than normal without any medication due to forgetting to take it before bed. That explains the drumming to my temple. Callum Reeves is bad for me.

As if sensing my inner scolding of him, he moves again and cups his hand around my breast. Well this is beyond awkward now. Luckily, his cell begins to ring before he can start dry humping me like a dog on heat. He groans as he wakes, so I do the same only softer because I'm a girl and we don't make ape-like noises like that. I also successfully manage to hold in my laughter when he jumps back from me like I'm the one about to attack him with an appendage. I turn over as he curses and press my face into the mattress. It's more to hide the amusement on my face but it comes off as me hiding from the morning, so score. I let out another groan for good measure as he answers the call.

"Kate, what's up?"

At the mention of my best friend's name I turn so my back is flat on the bed. I cast a glance in his direction, only lifting my lids halfway so it looks like I've just woken up.
I got this
. He rubs a hand over his face, spares me a quick look, then turns so he's sat with his back to me. Charming. He's just been poking at my lady areas and now he can't even look at me. I must look worse than I think. I sit myself up and pull open the drawer beside me, reaching for my pills. I stare at the tube in my hand. No wonder he doesn't want me. I swallow the self-doubt, the shame, and pour two out into my hand whilst idly listening to Callum.

"Yeah, I'm still here. No we're just waking up. Why? What time is it?"

Good point. I throw back the false sanity and make a grab for my own cell. I have four missed calls from Kitty, three texts, and various other messages that I'll probably ignore. Everybody wants something from me, and I'm not exactly willing to give anything away. I check the time at the same time Callum curses. 8.47am. I climb out of my bed and make my way to the bathroom. Now that he's awake, I can shower and wash the grime from my body. I leave Callum muttering away in my room. I need to make myself human and leave the apartment today. I have to fix these issues with my pills and I need someone not so crazy, to help me. 

"Wake up you lazy fucker," I shout, banging again on the side door of the bar.

The window above cracks open and my Uncle Roy's annoyed face appears. His hair is even more spiky and out of control than usual, his eyes barely open. He scowls down at me from above so I flash him my best 'you have to love me because we share blood' smile. He growls in response.

"Fliv, what the hell? It's ass o'clock. You better be dead or dying."

I smile fondly. I love this man, "It's almost ten. Quit whining and open the door. I need a favor."

He gruffs, but his head disappears back inside and thirty seconds later he's opening the door and inviting me inside, albeit reluctantly. I stroll in, ignoring the fact that he's sans shirt, and go straight up the stairs to his apartment. He wanders into the bedroom so I make myself useful by making a pot of coffee. Uncle Roy is as caffeine dependent as myself, so I'm not going to get anywhere with him until he's had a fix. I place the cups on the chipped table between his sofas as he returns looking slightly less insane and thankfully fully dressed. He slumps down on the opposite sofa to me, snatching up the coffee and taking a large gulp. I smile at the sense of familiarity and look around the space.

It hasn't changed since I was a kid; smoke stained walls, mismatched furniture, curtains that are older than me. Roy has never married, never had any kids, so he's like the oldest bachelor in Park Bay. His place is simple, like him, and he doesn't have much. He has a heart of gold though, and I love him, despite his homeless appearance and less than welcome approach to all things people.

"I heard you punched that cop," he says, with something resembling pride in his voice. "Wish I could have seen his face."

I can always count on this guy to give my life choices the thumbs up, even if they are ridiculous and leave me in a mess.

"Yeah, well, apparently I have an issue with authority."

He nods.

"You get it from your mom," the familiar darkness clouds his face at the mention of my mother. We don't talk about her much, for him and for me. He coughs and clears his throat. "Next time, let me do it. The guy is an asshole."

"Gotcha," I sip at my own coffee and decide that since he's talking I should broach the reason I'm here. "So, I need your help with something."

"Okay," he says, and couldn't possibly sound more skeptical. Why do people always think that my ideas and favors suck? I'm really pretty smart. They should focus on that. Maybe I could ask Callum to do some of his PR magic on the town in relation to me. Okay, even I know that’s ridiculous.

"Just hear me out, okay? I swear I'm not having an episode or losing my shit, again," he nods so I continue. "I think my doctor is trying to kill me."

He chokes on the mouthful of coffee he's just taken, "Jesus, Fliv. What do you mean trying to kill you?"

"Well, he's put me on this new medication and ever since I've been jittery. I'm tightroping my way through life every day and I can't take it."

His eyes soften, "Have you spoken to him about it?"

"Yes," I sigh. "He just keeps saying that I have to give them time but I'm about a day away from a breakdown."

As if on cue, my head begins to throb. I press my fingers into my temples in a pathetic attempt to silence it, "I need someone less fucked up than me to come and see him with me. He can't argue with sanity and as I'm seriously lacking in any form of sanity..."

He releases a breath, "Fliv, you'd tell me if this was anything other than medication issues, right?"

In a heartbeat
.

"Yes," he's about the only person I would tell besides Kitty.

"Okay, when is your appointment?"

"Uh," I give him my best smile. "I don't exactly have one. He's fielding my calls so I'm planning on just showing up."

"You wanna make a scene at a doctor's practice?"

"I don't want to. I have to."

He stands and pulls his coat from the back of the arm chair in the corner, "Well come on then," he shakes his head. "You're going to be the death of me."

Why does the world hate me? Why can't things ever just go my way? And why the fucking hell has Doctor Tyde decided that now is an awesome time for him to take a new job in some other town? This has to be some sort of joke. What the hell am I going to do? The ditz behind the counter flusters as I glare at her, demanding to see whatever new doctor is taking over. She's obviously new and hasn't been warned about my temperament. I actually miss the Barbie. I give up on her and march over to Claire's office, banging on the door. Roy stands next to me, muttering at me to calm down. He knows I'm about to explode, can feel it. Hell, I bet half the town can feel how close I am to seriously displaying my shit all over the place. It's too late though, I'm past calm. I can feel every ounce of blood in my veins boiling, can hear every single noise around me like it's on full volume, and I can't see past the black hole trying to suck me in. The dark itch creeps up my body. I scratch at my arms, desperate to satisfy it, but not even getting close. It all feels too familiar and I need to feel numb. Claire pulls open the door and immediately steps back as I push past her and inside.