7
Grant
She was here again––or still, I couldn’t be sure which. She had her cool fingers resting on my hand, and it felt wonderful. The rest of my body ached like I had been in a horrific crash. Oh wait, I had.
This time when I tried to open my eyes, they worked. I didn’t dare try to move anything else just yet because I could already tell it was going to be torturous.
She hadn’t noticed that my eyes were open, so I had a moment to check her out before she caught me. Cute was the first word that popped into my mind as I gazed up at her. She didn’t have the practiced perfection that so many of the actresses in L.A. paid big bucks to achieve, but she had a wholesome girl-next-door appeal that no amount of plastic surgery or makeup artistry could create.
A cry emerged from somewhere out
