Southern Heat by Natasha Madison

Author:Natasha Madison [Madison, Natasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Willow

The soft knock on the door makes me look up. My hair is in a French braid, thanks to Amelia, who came in, and in a matter of minutes, it was tied up, and it felt great. "Come in,” I say softly, sitting on the toilet seat. Holding my elbow in my hand, I’m waiting to put the sling on.

The door opens, and Chelsea comes in slowly with the black bag in her hands. "Hi." She smiles at me, and I just look at her. She is so beautiful, and her eyes are so kind. She quickly closes the door behind her. "I brought you choices,” she says, and I just look down at the black bag.

My own black bag sits by the door in a low heap since all I had in there were two pairs of jeans that were almost bare from wearing and two semi-clean shirts. There is only so much you can clean while living in a car. "Um," I start, “I have a couple of things in my bag, but with everything that happened …"

She smiles at me. “I know," she says softly. “But the good news is I have some things here." She puts the big bag on the floor in front of me and unzips the bag, squatting down. “Now, what were you thinking?”

My mouth opens as she opens the bag and shows me all the clothes inside it. I’ve never seen so many clothes in my whole life. I also have never owned more than five things at a time. “We didn’t know if you would want to wear jeans or if you wanted to wear shorts.”

I look down at my legs, seeing that the bruising is still there, fading slowly. “Jeans,” I tell her. “Always jeans,” I say, and she takes out a white pair and a blue pair.

"Do you want to wear blue or white?" she asks, and I just look down at the two in her hands.

"I’ve never had white jeans,” I say, and I want to kick myself. I should just take the blue jeans and a T-shirt and thank her.

"Then white jeans it is,” she says, holding the pair out to me. “And how about a shirt?”

"Just a regular T-shirt is okay,” I say, and she smiles and gives me a black one. "Thank you,” I say, holding the T-shirt in my hand and touching the softness of it.

"Here you go,” she says, handing me a white bra with matching panties.

"Um." I look down, and my legs shake with nervousness. “I don’t know what to say."

"Can I speak freely?" Chelsea looks at me, and I just stare at her. “I don’t want to step on any toes." She looks down and then up again. “I never want to disrespect you or insult you." She wipes away a tear with her thumb. “Quinn didn’t handle any of this right," she says, and my finger taps the clothes on my lap. “He’s a horse’s ass for sure."

"We can agree on that one,” I say softly.

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