Resisting the Player -- [Completed - Unedited]

Chapter 38: McDonald's

He holds up a McDonald's bag. "I brought you food."

I sleepily smile at him and sit up, adjusting my pillows.

Aaron pulls the little table-like surface attached to the bed out, and takes out my food for me, crumpling the bag up and putting in the trash can by my bed when it's empty.

Chicken nuggets, fries, a Sprite—which is fine because I changed my mind, like, half a second before I fell asleep—and an Oreo Mcflurry.

I immediately start sipping on the Oreo drink as Aaron opens the containers of my food, snagging a fry.

I glare at him but don't do or say anything, and he grins at me, taking another fry.

Ass.

I put the Mcflurry down and take a packet of ketchup out, emptying it on to the lid of the nuggets container.

Taking another packet of ketchup and doing the same thing I did with the first one, I glance up to see Aaron staring at me.

Literally, just staring at me.

His eyes flicker over my face, examining my features, lingering on my mouth.

I open my mouth to speak, but his eyes snap to mine, and I can't. It's more like I don't want to, actually.

He's staring at me like I'm his everything. I don't know why I think that's the look he's giving me, but I do. He's looking at me like I'm important to him, like he cares about me more than anything, even himself.

The thing that's really freaking me out though, the thing that's causing my throat to close up and my heart to pound in my chest, is the fact that he's never once gave Tiffany that look. Not one in their three, almost four, months of dating has he ever looked at he like he's looking at me.

What the fuck?

I don't know what to think—don't know what I'm supposed to be thinking, let alone doing—right now.

A small voice in the back of my mind whispers that it's because he likes me more than Tiffany—or he never liked Tiffany in the first place—but that's absurd. Absolutely crazy.

This is why I don't listen to the voice in my head.

I avert my eyes from Aaron's and stare at my food, grabbing a fry and lifting it to my mouth, chewing in silence.

I want to leave. I had managed to keep the panic of being in this tiny room at bay, but now everything came rushing towards me.

Small rooms like this sometimes get to me, especially if I feel like I'm trapped. And I felt trapped now with a broken leg.

A touch on my arm makes me snap my eyes up to meet Aaron's, which are filled with worry. "Calm down, Cassie. It's just me."

He glances over at a machine that's letting out a fast beeping sound and then back at me.

Oh, shit, that's my heartbeat, isn't it?

The door opens and a young looking nurse—who can't be that much older than me—bustles in, pausing briefly when she sees the food on the table and sending me a skeptical glance.

"I'm here to check your vitals," she tells me, moving closer and starting to mess around with the machines that I'm connected to.

An awkward silence envelopes the room, and, me being me, I break it by saying something.

"Do you want a chicken nugget?"

Aaron bursts out in laughter, and a smile quirks on my lips. Even the nurse laughs.