1
Sweet Torture
OWEN BLISS
“Owen.”
I hear a woman’s voice saying my name but I can’t open my eyes. Both lids weigh a ton. Hard as I try, I just can’t make the fuckers open.
“Is it normal for him to be so groggy?”
I recognize my mom’s voice and hear the worry in her tone. What is going on? Why am I so sleepy? And why the hell can’t I open my eyes?
“Nothing’s wrong. He’s only been out of surgery fifteen minutes. Some people are slower than others to wake up after anesthesia.”
Oh, right. I had surgery on my fucked-up shoulder. At least it’s not hurting.
“Owen, I need to get your vital signs again.”
Again? Guess I’ve been out cold; I don’t remember having my blood pressure taken at all.
My upper arm is squeezed tightly and then released. “O… wennn. Think you can wake up and look at me?”
The woman’s voice is soft and sweet, very much like a little girl’s. And so familiar. Makes me want to try harder to open my eyes so I can see her.
I successfully peek through one and then both eyes after several attempts. My vision is blurry, so I blink a few times to bring the woman into focus.
“Hey there. Looks like someone is trying to wake up.”
I’m sleepy as fuck but I fight to keep my eyes open so I can make out the woman’s face. “My name’s Ash. I’m your recovery room nurse.”
Her long honey-blonde hair has fallen forward and is acting as a veil to hide her face as she leans over me. I want so badly to push it away so I can see what she looks like. I wonder if she has an angel’s face to go along with that soft-spoken voice.
“Assh.” My tongue is still thick from anesthesia so her name comes out slurred and sounding more like Ass. Even sedated, I know that’s not great.
She giggles before tossing her hair over her shoulder so she can look at me. “Do you need something?”
I blink again to bring her face into focus. Porcelain skin. Rosy cheeks. I don’t know if I’m still disoriented from the anesthesia or not but I can’t give her eye color a name. They’re a peculiar mix of green and brown with golden flecks. Hazel, I think? “You…are…beautiful.” Wow. I was thinking that—and then poof—the words came tumbling out of my mouth.
Her expression changes to one I can’t place. Maybe a cross between concentration and confusion? “They must have given you some good drugs in surgery.”
“No, honey, that’s my son all the time. I’m not the least bit shocked he’s barely awake after anesthesia and already flirting with a pretty girl.”
OK. I can’t be hallucinating if my mom said that. “See? She thinks you’re pretty too. And she hasn’t had drugs.” I’ll be glad when I can hold my eyes open for more than a few seconds so I can get a better look at her.
“I need to look at your dressing.” My nurse leans over and pulls the top of my hospital gown open to inspect my arm and shoulder. She takes a pen from her pocket and draws a circle on my bandage.
“Looks OK?” Fuck, she smells good. I open my eyes, and damn, her tits are right there in my face.
“All good.” She glances at me and then quickly looks away when our eyes connect. “How’d you mess up your rotator cuff? Chasing too many girls?” Her question could be taken as comical but her tone lacks humor.
“Pitching for the Mets.” That earns a smile from her. But also a head shake.
“Ah, you are a funny one.”
I close my eyes when a wave of drowsiness rushes over me. “Old pitching injury.”
“Which he re-injured by throwing a speed ball.” Mom hasn’t been shy about voicing her aggravation with me. “Doctors warned him over and over that he was going to do serious damage if he didn’t stop pitching. But did he listen?”
“I guess you’ll listen now.” She closes my gown and steps away as she puts her hands on her hips. “Dressing looks good. Need anything? Head of the bed up some more? Ice chips? Bathroom?” What’s she going to do for me in the bathroom? Hold my dick for me? Maybe I need to take a piss if that’s the case. I wouldn’t mind her hand on my cock.
Mom’s phone vibrates. “This is Claudia texting. She wants to come back to see you so I’m going to swap places with her.”
My nurse puts the call thing in my good hand. “I’m stepping out so push that button or have your girlfriend come to the desk if you need anything.”
“OK.” Wait. I don’t have a girlfriend. I open my eyes to correct her but she’s already gone from my room. Well, damn!
She’ll be back in a few minutes to get my vital signs. I’ll set her straight then. Unless I nod off again and miss her. Or forget.
Shit.
My sister pulls back the curtain and comes into my recovery room. “Hey. How is Coach Bliss feeling?”
“Claudia, you have to tell the nurse you’re not my girlfriend if I fall asleep.”
My sister’s head tilts as she smiles. “You always say the craziest shit after anesthesia. I should be recording this so I can put it on YouTube. Or send it in to that TV show where you can win ten thousand dollars for the funniest video.”
I’m not too sedated to give Claudia the finger. “I’m not talking crazy shit. My nurse thinks you’re my girlfriend.”
“So?”
“I don’t want her to think I’m unavailable.”
Claudia waddles over and sits in the chair next to my bed. “For real, Owen? You just woke up from surgery and you’re chasing a piece of ass?”
Yeah, I guess I am. “Come on. Do it for me, squirt. Ash will be back in a few minutes.”
She rolls her eyes. “OK. Whatever.”
Claudia’s phone vibrates and she smiles as she thumbs a reply. “This is Bram checking in on you. I can’t wait to see what he says about your hitting on your nurse two seconds after surgery.”
Bram and Claudia have been married six months. She’s eight months pregnant. I think the fucker knocked her up on purpose. And she let him.
I’m still pissed off that Bram was screwing with my baby sister behind my back but I guess I’m starting to get over it. Not like I really have a choice. They’re married with a baby on the way. My nephew, Abraham, will be making his debut in a few weeks.
I’m not ready to admit it to either of them but I actually like my best friend being married to my little sister. I know he’ll take care of her—he always has—so that means I don’t have to worry about other dicks screwing with her.
“Knock, knock,” my nurse says a moment before she pulls the curtain open. Sort of weird there’s only three walls and some hanging fabric separating all the patients. “Time for vitals again.”
I can tell the anesthesia is wearing off. Or maybe it’s just this beautiful woman making me more alert.
She looks at Claudia and her eyes immediately dart to her stomach. I clear my throat, the prompt for my sister to clear up the girlfriend confusion. “Hello. I’m Claudia, his sister.”
“Oh, hi.” Maybe I’m imagining it because I want it to be there, but I think I pick up on some kind of surprise-relief-happiness. “I’m Ashlyn.”
Damn. She said Ash before. I’m sure of it. I assumed it was short for Ashley. But Ashlyn? That name brings back some memories from long ago. The one that got away. Literally.
She pushes a button and the cuff on my arm squeezes again. “Still feeling all right?”
“Better than I have in weeks.” I’ve been in some motherfucking pain for a while. I shouldn’t have been showing off for my team. It was stupid. But I wanted my players to see my talent. Aspire to be like me. Know they were being coached by someone who knew what the hell he was doing. I didn’t play college baseball—and almost go pro—because I was no good at it.
This broke-down shoulder put an end to any hope I had for making it into the pros. I was forced to trade that life for one back in my hometown as a high school baseball coach.
I felt that fucking rotator cuff rip when I was showing the boys my speedball. I wanted to lie on the field and cry like a baby but I held it together in front of them. No way I’d let those kids see me like that.
“They put a block in your shoulder for pain control and immobilization.” Explains why it feels so good right after surgery.
“Which means it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker when it wears off, right?”
Claudia swats my leg. “Owen.”
“Yeah, it’s going to hurt but the doctor will send you home with a prescription for pain meds. You’ll be fine if you don’t wait until it starts hurting to take it. But we’ll talk about that when I give you discharge instructions.”
This was an outpatient surgery so she’ll be sending me home soon. That means I have to work fast if I’m going to score a date with her before I go.
She isn’t wearing a ring on her finger but that doesn’t mean she’s not married or dating someone. I don’t know if nurses are allowed to wear jewelry at work. “Are you single?”
She doesn’t crack a smile as she peels my gown back to inspect my bandage again. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you give me your number so I can call you later? I’d really like to take you out to dinner or something.”
“Or something?” Her veil of hair has fallen again so I can’t see her face as she draws on my bandage. “I don’t go out with patients.”
No way I’m taking that for an answer. “Then it’s a good thing I won’t be your patient much longer.”
This is crazy as hell. I wake up from surgery, see this angel standing over me, and lose my fucking mind because I’m scared I’ll never see her again. I won’t let this be the last time I ever see her.
She releases my gown and steps back. “Dressing still looks good.”
“And so do you.” I know I’m coming on strong but the countdown is on. I need to persuade her to go out with me before she kicks my ass out of this bed.
“I don’t date players.”
I point to my injured shoulder. “Mets put me on the bench. Not a player anymore.”
“I think we both know you are.” Her eyes lock with mine and I see her. I mean I really see her.
“Wait. I know you. You’re… her.” Ashlyn, from five years ago.
She quickly looks away without a reply. “Doc will be in to round on you in a bit and we’ll see about getting you out of here.”
She’s the one. I’m certain of it.
The girl I met five years ago at a party.
The girl in my bed who slipped away in the middle of the night.
The girl I haven’t been able to forget.
I hear a woman’s voice saying my name but I can’t open my eyes. Both lids weigh a ton. Hard as I try, I just can’t make the fuckers open.
“Is it normal for him to be so groggy?”
I recognize my mom’s voice and hear the worry in her tone. What is going on? Why am I so sleepy? And why the hell can’t I open my eyes?
“Nothing’s wrong. He’s only been out of surgery fifteen minutes. Some people are slower than others to wake up after anesthesia.”
Oh, right. I had surgery on my fucked-up shoulder. At least it’s not hurting.
“Owen, I need to get your vital signs again.”
Again? Guess I’ve been out cold; I don’t remember having my blood pressure taken at all.
My upper arm is squeezed tightly and then released. “O… wennn. Think you can wake up and look at me?”
The woman’s voice is soft and sweet, very much like a little girl’s. And so familiar. Makes me want to try harder to open my eyes so I can see her.
I successfully peek through one and then both eyes after several attempts. My vision is blurry, so I blink a few times to bring the woman into focus.
“Hey there. Looks like someone is trying to wake up.”
I’m sleepy as fuck but I fight to keep my eyes open so I can make out the woman’s face. “My name’s Ash. I’m your recovery room nurse.”
Her long honey-blonde hair has fallen forward and is acting as a veil to hide her face as she leans over me. I want so badly to push it away so I can see what she looks like. I wonder if she has an angel’s face to go along with that soft-spoken voice.
“Assh.” My tongue is still thick from anesthesia so her name comes out slurred and sounding more like Ass. Even sedated, I know that’s not great.
She giggles before tossing her hair over her shoulder so she can look at me. “Do you need something?”
I blink again to bring her face into focus. Porcelain skin. Rosy cheeks. I don’t know if I’m still disoriented from the anesthesia or not but I can’t give her eye color a name. They’re a peculiar mix of green and brown with golden flecks. Hazel, I think? “You…are…beautiful.” Wow. I was thinking that—and then poof—the words came tumbling out of my mouth.
Her expression changes to one I can’t place. Maybe a cross between concentration and confusion? “They must have given you some good drugs in surgery.”
“No, honey, that’s my son all the time. I’m not the least bit shocked he’s barely awake after anesthesia and already flirting with a pretty girl.”
OK. I can’t be hallucinating if my mom said that. “See? She thinks you’re pretty too. And she hasn’t had drugs.” I’ll be glad when I can hold my eyes open for more than a few seconds so I can get a better look at her.
“I need to look at your dressing.” My nurse leans over and pulls the top of my hospital gown open to inspect my arm and shoulder. She takes a pen from her pocket and draws a circle on my bandage.
“Looks OK?” Fuck, she smells good. I open my eyes, and damn, her tits are right there in my face.
“All good.” She glances at me and then quickly looks away when our eyes connect. “How’d you mess up your rotator cuff? Chasing too many girls?” Her question could be taken as comical but her tone lacks humor.
“Pitching for the Mets.” That earns a smile from her. But also a head shake.
“Ah, you are a funny one.”
I close my eyes when a wave of drowsiness rushes over me. “Old pitching injury.”
“Which he re-injured by throwing a speed ball.” Mom hasn’t been shy about voicing her aggravation with me. “Doctors warned him over and over that he was going to do serious damage if he didn’t stop pitching. But did he listen?”
“I guess you’ll listen now.” She closes my gown and steps away as she puts her hands on her hips. “Dressing looks good. Need anything? Head of the bed up some more? Ice chips? Bathroom?” What’s she going to do for me in the bathroom? Hold my dick for me? Maybe I need to take a piss if that’s the case. I wouldn’t mind her hand on my cock.
Mom’s phone vibrates. “This is Claudia texting. She wants to come back to see you so I’m going to swap places with her.”
My nurse puts the call thing in my good hand. “I’m stepping out so push that button or have your girlfriend come to the desk if you need anything.”
“OK.” Wait. I don’t have a girlfriend. I open my eyes to correct her but she’s already gone from my room. Well, damn!
She’ll be back in a few minutes to get my vital signs. I’ll set her straight then. Unless I nod off again and miss her. Or forget.
Shit.
My sister pulls back the curtain and comes into my recovery room. “Hey. How is Coach Bliss feeling?”
“Claudia, you have to tell the nurse you’re not my girlfriend if I fall asleep.”
My sister’s head tilts as she smiles. “You always say the craziest shit after anesthesia. I should be recording this so I can put it on YouTube. Or send it in to that TV show where you can win ten thousand dollars for the funniest video.”
I’m not too sedated to give Claudia the finger. “I’m not talking crazy shit. My nurse thinks you’re my girlfriend.”
“So?”
“I don’t want her to think I’m unavailable.”
Claudia waddles over and sits in the chair next to my bed. “For real, Owen? You just woke up from surgery and you’re chasing a piece of ass?”
Yeah, I guess I am. “Come on. Do it for me, squirt. Ash will be back in a few minutes.”
She rolls her eyes. “OK. Whatever.”
Claudia’s phone vibrates and she smiles as she thumbs a reply. “This is Bram checking in on you. I can’t wait to see what he says about your hitting on your nurse two seconds after surgery.”
Bram and Claudia have been married six months. She’s eight months pregnant. I think the fucker knocked her up on purpose. And she let him.
I’m still pissed off that Bram was screwing with my baby sister behind my back but I guess I’m starting to get over it. Not like I really have a choice. They’re married with a baby on the way. My nephew, Abraham, will be making his debut in a few weeks.
I’m not ready to admit it to either of them but I actually like my best friend being married to my little sister. I know he’ll take care of her—he always has—so that means I don’t have to worry about other dicks screwing with her.
“Knock, knock,” my nurse says a moment before she pulls the curtain open. Sort of weird there’s only three walls and some hanging fabric separating all the patients. “Time for vitals again.”
I can tell the anesthesia is wearing off. Or maybe it’s just this beautiful woman making me more alert.
She looks at Claudia and her eyes immediately dart to her stomach. I clear my throat, the prompt for my sister to clear up the girlfriend confusion. “Hello. I’m Claudia, his sister.”
“Oh, hi.” Maybe I’m imagining it because I want it to be there, but I think I pick up on some kind of surprise-relief-happiness. “I’m Ashlyn.”
Damn. She said Ash before. I’m sure of it. I assumed it was short for Ashley. But Ashlyn? That name brings back some memories from long ago. The one that got away. Literally.
She pushes a button and the cuff on my arm squeezes again. “Still feeling all right?”
“Better than I have in weeks.” I’ve been in some motherfucking pain for a while. I shouldn’t have been showing off for my team. It was stupid. But I wanted my players to see my talent. Aspire to be like me. Know they were being coached by someone who knew what the hell he was doing. I didn’t play college baseball—and almost go pro—because I was no good at it.
This broke-down shoulder put an end to any hope I had for making it into the pros. I was forced to trade that life for one back in my hometown as a high school baseball coach.
I felt that fucking rotator cuff rip when I was showing the boys my speedball. I wanted to lie on the field and cry like a baby but I held it together in front of them. No way I’d let those kids see me like that.
“They put a block in your shoulder for pain control and immobilization.” Explains why it feels so good right after surgery.
“Which means it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker when it wears off, right?”
Claudia swats my leg. “Owen.”
“Yeah, it’s going to hurt but the doctor will send you home with a prescription for pain meds. You’ll be fine if you don’t wait until it starts hurting to take it. But we’ll talk about that when I give you discharge instructions.”
This was an outpatient surgery so she’ll be sending me home soon. That means I have to work fast if I’m going to score a date with her before I go.
She isn’t wearing a ring on her finger but that doesn’t mean she’s not married or dating someone. I don’t know if nurses are allowed to wear jewelry at work. “Are you single?”
She doesn’t crack a smile as she peels my gown back to inspect my bandage again. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you give me your number so I can call you later? I’d really like to take you out to dinner or something.”
“Or something?” Her veil of hair has fallen again so I can’t see her face as she draws on my bandage. “I don’t go out with patients.”
No way I’m taking that for an answer. “Then it’s a good thing I won’t be your patient much longer.”
This is crazy as hell. I wake up from surgery, see this angel standing over me, and lose my fucking mind because I’m scared I’ll never see her again. I won’t let this be the last time I ever see her.
She releases my gown and steps back. “Dressing still looks good.”
“And so do you.” I know I’m coming on strong but the countdown is on. I need to persuade her to go out with me before she kicks my ass out of this bed.
“I don’t date players.”
I point to my injured shoulder. “Mets put me on the bench. Not a player anymore.”
“I think we both know you are.” Her eyes lock with mine and I see her. I mean I really see her.
“Wait. I know you. You’re… her.” Ashlyn, from five years ago.
She quickly looks away without a reply. “Doc will be in to round on you in a bit and we’ll see about getting you out of here.”
She’s the one. I’m certain of it.
The girl I met five years ago at a party.
The girl in my bed who slipped away in the middle of the night.
The girl I haven’t been able to forget.
Thank you for reading Chapter One of Sweet Torture.
He left without warning. Now he’s back—with a son she never knew existed and a second chance he doesn’t deserve.
Ready to find out what happens when heartbreak meets redemption? Get your copy now.
He left without warning. Now he’s back—with a son she never knew existed and a second chance he doesn’t deserve.
Ready to find out what happens when heartbreak meets redemption? Get your copy now.