Chapter Nine

Dylan

Surely having heavy periods would be enough, but my body says, "Fuck you, you also get cramps so bad you can't move!" And to top it off, the bloating, sharp pains, and not being able to shit indicates another cyst.

It's karma, it has to be. There is no other explanation as to why a woman would have to go through this. Was I a shit human being in my last life? Maybe Vada is right, and I shouldn't intentionally kill ants for no reason. Roman picked Vada up a few hours ago, after I texted him because she was fussing like an old damn hen. I needed her to be occupied and out of my hair for a while, so I could rest without her asking if I was okay or if I needed anything. I do appreciate her concern, but I have it handled.

"Okay, so I texted the group chat with the girls, and I'm trusting you to keep your mouth shut about said group chat, but they said this shit could help."

I look up at Logan from the sofa, and he holds out a grocery bag for me. Groaning, I sit up a little and take the bag.

"What?! No chocolate? Are you sure they know what they are talking about? You should have just walked in with your shirt off. That would have been a distraction."

Logan opens his mouth but slams it shut and pulls his shirt over his head. Not going to lie, I feel better than I did two seconds ago.

"I do have chocolate in the fridge," he admits. "Should I get it?"

"Is the sky blue, Logan?"

He scurries out of the living area and into the kitchen. I hear the fridge open and close again. Thank god I have chocolate in my near future. The only upside to this time of month is not feeling guilty about what I eat.

A knock at the door has me pushing up from the sofa at a weird angle to try and ward off the pain.

"Don't worry, I got it," Logan says, running into the room, chocolate in hand.

"I can open the damn door," I snap in frustration as he pulls the door open.

"Here, you might need this. I think she is hangry and in pain," Logan says, blocking the view of the door.

Brad steps around Logan and looks over with furrowed brows at me half sitting on the sofa, then back to Logan, who still doesn't have a shirt on.

"I was just trying to make her feel better, but she is mean," Logan whines. Brad walks past him and comes to sit on the end of the sofa, placing a hand on my thigh.

"He tried to make you feel better with his shirt off?"

"What can I say?" I huff, falling back onto the mountain of blankets and pillows I have set up. "He is pretty to look at and a huge distraction. Why are you here?"

Brad sighs and holds up a square container.

"When you cancelled your shift because you were sick, I called Ralph to get some of Martha's chicken soup, but I thought maybe you changed your mind about us."

"Back up a hot minute. Soup in a square container? Oh man, where is Vada when I need her? I have learned that soup goes in round containers. It's a thing. And now I feel weird about eating soup from a square."

Brad laughs. "That's what you took from that?"

Brad starts to unbutton his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders. Man, they are nice shoulders.

"You do realise sex is off the table, unless you have a blood kink? I should maybe add it to the list if you do."

Brad chuckles. "I'm trying to distract you, not bed you."

"Oh. Well in that case, keep going."

"Um, as much as I'm liking where this is going, I have an angel to catch. Don't wait up."

Logan swipes his shirt from where he dropped it and pulls it over his head, waving as he walks out the door.

"So, does this distraction include no pants?" I ask, and Brad shakes his head, making me pout.

"How about I heat up the soup and put it in a bowl so you stop freaking out, and then we can watch a movie."

"Okay," I say as he stands. "But I have a better idea: you can read my sex list and cross off whatever is a hard no."

Brad moans, and I laugh as he mumbles under his breath and disappears out of sight. While he is in the kitchen, I tidy up the sofa, so he has a place to sit when he comes back. My pillow and blanket cocoon was really only suitable for one.

After a few minutes, Brad comes back in with two bowls of soup and places them on the small coffee table in front of me, then takes a seat beside me.

Dating someone Brad's age—well, dating is a strong word, but probably suitable for his age demographic, whereas I would have been happy to call it a situationship, purely because it's way too early to call him my boyfriend—means we might not even be compatible in the sex department, and I have high hopes for my sex life.

"What are you thinking about?" Brad asks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "You get a little wrinkle here when you are thinking too hard."

"Nothing important. Just how my body hates me. Like why it is necessary to get a period just to reproduce? They should give some of us who don't care about having kids an ‘opt out' button."

"You don't want kids?"

I shrug. I haven't thought all too much about it, not when I have only technically just finished being a kid myself. "Maybe, sometimes I wonder if the world needs another me, and what if I'm not a good mum? Mine is pretty bad at it, and she is the only maternal role model I've really had. Do you want kids?"

"I have never really cared either way. I'm not a big planner, so I would rather just see what happens and if it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

"I guess that's a good way to look at it."

We both eat our soup, and surprisingly, I feel a little better. Who knows if it was the food or the fact that Brad came here to check on me. Yes, Vada cares, and Minnie would have no idea it's that time of the month. But honestly, I'm glad—not that he would do anything nice for me. Tears spring to my eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Don't look at me," I snap, pulling the blanket over my head.

"Is everything okay under there?"

"No, I'm a crier when I'm on my period. Do not get used to it—I will be back to normal in a few days."

Brad laughs and lifts the blanket. "I won't judge you, not until after your period."

Then that feeling hits me. The one where you know you have bled through, that combination of warm, wet, and soggy all at the same time. And if you are as lucky as me, it's normally accompanied by a pain so bad it feels like an alien is clawing its way out through my uterus. The sound that comes out of me has Brad pulling the covers off. Sweat lines my brow and my hands shake.

"What can I do?"

I shake my head, hoping he gets that there is nothing he can do. As the pain starts to taper off, I know I have to tell him what just happened. I really don't want to. His first time here should have been planned. I would have showered and run a brush through my hair at the very least, and I'd have shaved. Right now, if he found all this sexy, I would accuse him of bestiality.

"Dylan, if you don't tell me how to help, I will have to call your brother, and that's probably two conversations you don't want to have with him."

"Fine. My cramps get so bad I can't move, and on occasion some women get this awful gush—yes, we feel it—but I have bled through."

Brad jumps from the sofa and looks down at me in a panic. "You have bled through? Is this a hospital situation? Should I call Chad? His brother husband is a doctor."

I snort and reach for his hand. "First of all, no, it's just a shower situation. And second, brother husband?"

Brad smiles. "Well what else does he call the other guys banging his girlfriend? And don't even ask that next question. No, I do not want a brother husband, especially not if it's Logan. And no, you can't have a sister wife either. I don't share. While whatever this is, is happening, there is no one else."

"And what if I want someone else?"

"Then we have an adult conversation about it and end things."

I nod. "Okay. I'm going for a shower. You can wait in my room if you like, and we can go over that sex list when I'm done."

Brad helps me up, and I don't dare look at the mess I have left on Chad's old sofa. He helps me to my room, and I find my period undies, a pad so big it could be compared to a surfboard, and an old shirt that falls to my knees, plus two towels.

"I'll be back," I tell Brad, and he sits down on my bed as I exit the room.

There is only one bathroom to share between the three of us. For a guy, Logan is really clean, and it's borderline annoying that he organises his skincare routine alphabetically in a carousel-style organiser.

Turning on the water, I undress and put my soiled clothes in the corner of the room folded up, so no one has to see that. I step under the spray as soon as the temperature isn't ice cold, which only takes a few seconds in this weather.

I turn the hot water up until it burns me like I'm in the pits of hell, giving myself a few minutes to enjoy the heat on my back.

After I'm clean, I shut the water off and step out. Grabbing my towel, I quickly dry off and get dressed, wrapping my head with the smaller of the two towels. I open the door and steam billows out into the hall. Making my way back across the hall to my room, I find it empty.

Hobbling down the hall as quickly as I can manage, I find Brad and panic sets in. "What are you doing?"

His head pops up like a kangaroo in headlights, his eyes wide and mouth open, like he doesn't know how to answer. His hands are covered in yellow kitchen gloves and one of them holds a sponge.

"Scrubbing your sofa?"

The way he answers is more of a question, like he doubts himself.

Hurrying over to him, I snatch the sponge from his hands. "Just no."

Brad looks at my red face and smiles. "Are you embarrassed? It's just blood. I clean up worse at the bar."

I whine, covering my face with my hands. "Still, our first time alone and I'm on my period, and you are cleaning my bodily fluids off the sofa that belongs to your twin brother."

"You're right. We should call Chad and tell him he needs a new sofa."

I baulk at him. That is not what we should do. Not even close.

Brad laughs. "I'm fucking with you. Let's get you into bed. How about I put the cushion in the laundry, and you can soak the cover. It shouldn't stain now—I cleaned most of it."

I nod because what else can I do? It's not like this night could get any worse.