“Hey, wait!” She blocks my way when I turn to go. “You can’t. I mean, it’s my fault you fell, and I…” She frowns. “Don’t I know you?”
“That’s a good pick-up line, you know.”
“What?” Her brows arch, then she frowns again. “I wasn’t… Oh crap. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
What the hell am I doing? I’m being an asshole when she’s trying to be nice. “I was just screwing with you,” I mutter. “I’m friends with Micah. Evangeline’s boyfriend?”
“Oh, right.” She looks uncertain again. I bet she can’t remember my name or where she’s seen me to save her life. “Can I offer you a ride home? It’s the least I can do. Or maybe the hospital?” She glances at my walking stick. “To get yourself checked out?”
“No, no hospitals.” I shudder. “I’m all right, really. Just need to pop a few painkillers and warm up. My place ain’t far.”
And oh fuck, going up those stairs will probably kill me. Not to mention I never got around to buying those painkillers in the first place, and there’s nothing at home to get me through the night, not even booze.
At least I wasn’t run over. Small mercies. I’m like a cat with nine lives, but even I would have trouble ungluing my flattened self from the asphalt.
“You sure?”
Oh yeah, so sure. Sure I can’t go home like this.
I pull my cell from my pocket, thinking to call Shane or Jesse, ask them if I can crash at their place tonight, but the damn phone looks dead. “Shit!”
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” I shove my cell back into my pocket. I’m shivering harder now in my drenched T-shirt and pants, and I clench my fingers on the handle of the stick. “Mind if I use your phone to call someone to pick me up?”
“Your leg.” She’s giving me a serious look, and fuck it’s hot. “What happened?”
“Broke it.”
Which is making a very long story short, but Jesus on a toast, I need to get out of this rain and sit down somewhere, take the weight off my leg before I keel over.
“Oh man.” She shifts from foot to foot and bites her lip. Shouldn’t be so distracting, dammit. “You do you have an elevator at your place, right?”
“Nope.”
“You don’t…?” She gapes at me. “Then can I call your roommate to come pick you up?”
“Don’t have one. Roommate, that is. Not yet.”
Maybe not ever. The last one who came by to see the place never called back. Still hoping, though.
“I can’t leave you like this,” she whispers.
“Sure you can.” I plaster on my brightest smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“No. I’m serious. I feel so bad about this.” She rubs her hands up and down her bare arms. “Why don’t you come over to my place?”
I blink at her, the rain water stinging my eyes. “What?”
Brilliant response. That’s me, the brilliant conversationalist. And probably also in need of a hearing aid, because she can’t have said—
“Come over to my place. It’s close by, and the elevator works. You can dry yourself, I’ll make you something to eat, and we can check your leg and your hands. You’re bleeding.”
I am? I unclench my hand, turn it palm-up, stare at it. Oh yeah. I am. Skinned my palms and probably my shins, too.
Joy.
“You sure?” It sure is tempting—for oh-so-many reasons. My teeth are chattering, my stomach is rumbling with hunger, and avoiding the stairs sounds like a fucking wet dream. Not to mention—her place. Manon’s place. She’ll be there. “I’ll make a mess in your apartment.”
She tsks and waves toward her car, parked at the curbside. “Don’t expect anything fancy or tidy. This is a fair warning. It’s more like a war-zone, really.”
Hard to believe. Can’t be worse than my place.
But I don’t care. I wouldn’t mind entering a fucking war-zone if it meant seeing her, talking to her for a while longer.
Which is fucked-up. I know, okay? I’m the biggest idiot in the world. She didn’t even remember me, doesn’t know a thing about me—and if she ever finds out about my past… I’ll never see her again.
So yeah. Laugh all you want. I don’t fucking care.
***
Gritting my teeth with each and every step at the pain shooting up my leg and a pounding headache, I make my way to her car. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse…
But that’s bullshit. Things always take a turn for the worse, right when they seem to be going better.
It’s a good trick, this one. Life has it down pat. Lets you relax a little, only to trip you up when you least expect it. God knows, it happened to me so often I should be able to see the pattern by now.
Besides, chin up. And stop whining. How basic is that? You aren’t dead, plus there’s a hot chick—the hottest chick ever—taking you home. Her home, with promises of warmth and food and…
And nothing. That’s all. More than what you have now, though. More than you ever hope to get with her.
Take it.
Keeping a groan behind my teeth, I fold myself into her small car and prop my walking stick between my legs. I’m shivering with cold, and fuck, need to stretch my leg, but there isn’t any space.
Suck it up, Seffers.
To take my mind off the pain, I glance at her as she slips in behind the wheel and cranks up the heater. Even dripping wet, long dark hair stuck to her face and neck, she’s beautiful.
Scratch that, she’s even sexier like this. Of course she is. Her dress is glued on her body like second skin, the light gray almost see-through. I can see clearly her black bra, the curve of her tits, and fuck, why was I feeling sorry for myself?
This is worth the pain.
“Hang on,” she says, and without the noise of the rain, her voice’s soft and exotic. Musical. I can’t place her accent. “We’ll be there in two minutes.”
I unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth and nod. The heater is warming up the air fast, at least, and I’m not shivering my bones loose anymore. I work on keeping my eyes straight ahead as she drives off, on the wipers sluicing water off the windbreaker, and on the street, the pools of light cast by the lampposts and shop fronts.
She parks outside a white building, three stories high with big lit-up windows and trees on the sidewalk. Red maples, their leaves already turning ruddy with the onset of fall. We had them outside out house, too, when I was little.
Feels like centuries ago.
She turns to me, flashes me a brief smile. “Home sweet home. I hope, uh…” She turns the engine off and sticks her tongue out to the side. Makes me want to laugh. Or maybe I’m just nervous. “Hope this is okay. I may have pressured you a little to come over. I just didn’t feel okay leaving you there, you know? But if you change your mind, I can still drive you back to your place, or call a cab for you.”
I blink at her. She’s… sweet. Don’t know why it catches me by surprise.
“It’s fine,” I mutter. “Honest.”
The thought of going back to my cold and empty apartment right now is damn depressing.
The smile flashes again—small, white teeth, the canines slightly crooked.
Charming. Cute.
Hot.
I lick my lips. God, I want to kiss her. This is fucked-up. So instead, I throw my door open and start the slow process of getting my sorry ass out of her car.
“Let me help you.” She comes around and grabs my arm, steadying me as I try to find my footing. Her grip is shockingly strong for such a small girl.
She puts the walking stick in my hand and closes the door as I take a few tentative steps, hissing and leaning on the stick when my knee shoots fire up my leg.
Ow, dammit.
When she puts a slender arm around my back, I suck in a sharp breath—not from pain this time. Her touch lights up a different kind of fire in my blood. I was semi-hard during the car ride, and now I’ve gone to diamond-hard in two seconds flat.
Oblivious, she helps me to the entrance of the building and punches a code into the keypad by the door. It clicks and we enter into the dark but dry lobby. Fuck, it’s cold in here. Her arm is a naked flame wrapped around me.