Chapter Seventeen
Saturday
Ruby:
"Why are you smiling like that?" Josh asks, green eyes zeroed in on my face.
“Like what?”
“That.”
“I didn’t realise I was looking at you any kind of way.” I lift my chin a bit. “Maybe it’s because you’ve just called me insane.”
It's at this moment I realise Josh isn't just physically hot. He's also temperature hot. Genuinely roasting—heat is radiating through his black bomber jacket and straight into me, as if he's running on a higher setting than the rest of us.
His chest is solid and broad, and his hands on my waist are warm, and I suddenly understand why Victorian women were always fainting.
Is this what swooning is? Because my legs are definitely considering it.
“You alright?” he asks, his eyebrows pulling together.
“Yep.”
“You look a bit weird.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, carry on. First insane, now weird. Really building me back up after that fiasco.”
That gets a laugh out of him, and because I’m still pressed right up against him, I feel the movement of it through his chest before I properly hear it.
Oh, fuck off.
I need to get a grip.
Loosening my arms from around his shoulders, I am overtly conscious of all the ways we’re touching, but when I try to put my weight onto my feet, a bolt of pins and needles shoots down my left leg and I grab him again. “Ow—shit.”
Josh’s hands go tighter around my waist. “What?”
“My leg.” I grimace, lifting my heel slightly off the ground. “It’s waking back up.”
“Not dead then?”
“Not far off.”
He looks down, checking me over, and I use the opportunity to inspect him without being caught doing it.
His hair is darker in the alley than it is under the lights inside, his jaw shadowed slightly from the end of the day, and there’s a tiny mark near his chin where one of my stupid bunny ears must have caught him when I fell.
“Oh, shit. I did actually hit you.”
His green eyes come back to mine. “Yeah.”
“Sorry.”
“S’okay,” he shrugs, not breaking eye contact. “I’ll survive.”
“Are you sure? I’m apparently capable of breaking buildings with my bum.”
“I’m fine. Though I’ve no idea how I’ll ever explain this to your brother.”
I groan at the thought. “Oscar can never know about this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll hear about it forever. He still brings up the time how I rode my bike straight into a wall.”
Josh studies me. “Why’d you ride it into a wall?”
“It wasn’t intentional. I’d never ridden a bike before. It was my first go and I didn’t know how to turn.” I grimace. “Oscar says I just kept pedalling right up until I hit it, then slid down the wall like a cartoon character.”
“Did you not think to brake?”
“I didn’t know how to do that either.”
His mouth drops open. “Why did anyone put you on a bike?”
“I was six. I was old enough to learn.”
“Rubes, no offence, but clearly not.”
“I’d like to see you do better!”
“I can ride a bike.”
“Yeah, now. My six-year-old self would have whopped your ass.”
“More like the wall tried to whoop yours.”
“You’re a dick.”
“A dick who can ride a bike.”
“I can ride a bike!” I’m indignant. “I just had to learn first.”
“Right.” Josh nods with mock solemnity. “After the wall taught you an important lesson.”
I shove at his shoulder, laughing, and another hard burst of pins and needles races down my left leg. My knee dips and Josh catches me around the waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric at my sides as I grab his forearm to steady myself.
“I’m okay,” I tell him.
There’s no hint of laughter left in his face now. His brows pull together while he checks my footing. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, you can let go.”
His grip eases. His fingertips remain against my waist until I put both feet flat on the concrete, then he drops his hands and moves back enough to give me room.
I pull the hem of my top down where it has bunched beneath his hands, then straighten my left leg and press my heel into the ground. A prickling ache runs from the back of my thigh into my calf, but my knee stays firm when I shift my weight onto it. “See? Fine.”
“Can you walk on it?”
“I think so?”
Josh looks down at my leg, then at the stretch of pavement leading towards the road. “Do you want me to give you a piggyback back to halls?”
The offer makes me melt. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. It’s only down the road.”
“I won’t be too heavy for you?”
“Too heavy? Ruby, you’re tiny.”
“I’m five-foot-three and big enough to get stuck in a window.”
“You got stuck in something the size of a fucking cat flap because you’re insane enough to try and squeeze yourself through it.”
“The door was jammed!”
“And your leg is busted.” He shakes his head, stepping closer and turning his back to me. He bends at the knees, one hand braced over his thigh, and he looks over his shoulder at me. “Get on.”
“Josh, be for real.”
“I am! You can’t walk. It’s only five minutes away.”
I look at the width of his shoulders beneath the black bomber jacket, then down at my leg. The ache has dulled, but there’s still a tight pull through the back of my thigh.
“Rubes.” He tuts. “Get on with it.”
“Alright, alright.” I move in behind him and place both hands on his shoulders. Heat pushes through the jacket into my palms, and when I lift my left leg, his hand slides around the back of my thigh to guide it over his hip before he reaches for the other.
My breath hitches in my throat, and I fight to be normal about this.
“Ready?”
“No!”
He stands before I’ve finished answering, making me yelp and clamp my arms around his shoulders. My breasts press against his back, my cheek nearly knocking into the side of his head, and his hands slide under my thighs to hold me up, long fingers spread wide against the backs of my legs.
From up here, the ground looks very, very far away. “Christ, you’re tall!”
A low laugh rumbles out of him. “Are you only just realising?”
“Well, no! But it feels a bit different now I can see over the tops of buildings!”
“You’re a bit of a diva, aren’t you?” He starts walking, adjusting his grip beneath my thighs when I slip lower against his back. “I’m gonna drop you off at halls and then circle back for your phone. Is that okay?”
I’d completely forgotten about my phone. My head turns towards the club behind us, where the music is pounding away. “Shit.”
“You forgot Brooke has it?”
“I’ve been a little distracted.” I sheepishly admit.
Josh tilts his head and I catch the edge of his smile. “Only a bit.”
I rest my chin against his shoulder and look past the side of his face as we cross the road, the streetlights making everything glow orange and hazy. “This is the second time you’ve rescued me.”
“Twice in two weeks. It’s going to make for an interesting year.”
I smile against the shoulder of his jacket. “You say that as though I’m going to keep needing your help.”
“You got attacked by a swan and trapped in a toilet window within, like, eight days.”
“Bernardo did not attack me.”
“He was coming for both of us.”
“He was coming for you.”
“All three of us were going to die that night.”
“Now who is being dramatic?” I scoff. “And this wasn’t an emergency.”
“You were hanging out of a building.”
“I was halfway to freedom.”
“You were halfway to a head injury.”
I tighten my arms around his shoulders when he steps off the kerb, my body lifting slightly against his back before settling again as he crosses the road.
His hands adjust beneath my thighs at the change in level, thumbs pressing into the backs of my legs through my tights, and I have to focus very hard on the glowing orange pavement ahead instead of the fact I can feel every movement of his fingers.
We turn onto the road leading towards halls and I glance back once more at The Shed, now half-hidden behind the university buildings. “Do you actually have to go back for my phone?”
“Unless you want to leave it with her? I think Brooke is staying at mine and Ewie’s tonight.”
I lift my shoulders. “I could get it tomorrow.”
“I really don’t mind getting it for you.”
“It feels cruel to make you go out of your way for me. Again.”
“You’re not making me. I’d feel better if you had it.”
“I think you’ve done enough.”
Josh’s voice goes deeper. “How about you let me decide when I’ve done enough?”
My heart flutters. “What happens if Brooke leaves before you get back?”
“I’ll call Ewan.”
“And if Ewan is drunk?”
“So what if he is?”
“How do you know he will answer?”
“He always answers me.”
We turn again and the halls come into view at the end of the road, lit windows stacked above each other in the dark.
My leg has stopped throbbing enough that I could probably walk from here, but I don’t say anything and I’ve stopped worrying about whether I’m too heavy for him.
He doesn’t seem to struggle carrying me at all.
He turns his head towards me. “You’re not going to let me carry you up the stairs, are you?”
“No.”
“What if you can’t make it up?”
“I’ll crawl if I have to.”
Josh lets out a quiet laugh and faces forward again. “That I’d pay to see.”
“Have I not been embarrassed enough?”
“Dunno. Day’s not over yet.”
“Fuck off, Josh.”
He laughs again and carries me the rest of the way towards halls, slowing as we reach the entrance. I expect him to stop there, but he angles straight towards the doors instead, and when I realise what he’s doing I lift my head from his shoulder.
“You can put me down now.”
“I’m taking you to your door.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Josh.”
“What?”
“You’ve already carried me all the way here. Put me down.”
“Your room is on the third floor, Ruby.”
“So?”
“So” he sounds frustrated. “I’m taking you upstairs.”
“I can walk just fine!”
“Can you?”
The question is annoying enough that I loosen my arms and start wriggling to get down. “Put me down and I’ll prove it.”
“Stop moving.”
“I’m trying to get off.”
“And I’m trying not to drop you, you stubborn little thing.” His hands tighten beneath my thighs as I shift, and I go still when the movement pulls my chest closer against his back.
“Fine.” I growl. “Then lower me.”
Josh bends until my trainers touch the pavement, keeping hold of me until I’ve moved both feet beneath me.
When he straightens, I take a careful step away from him and roll my left ankle once, then bend my knee.
The ache is still there, sitting high behind my thigh now rather than running all the way down my leg, but it’s nowhere near as sharp as it was outside The Shed. “See? I’m fine.”
“You’ve only taken one bloody step!”
I take another, schooling my features when pain shoots up the back of my leg.
“Ruby.” Josh snaps my name, his jaw tightening as he watches the way I favour my right side. “You are limping. Just let me carry you up.”
Should I be impressed by this? Should it feel romantic?
I don’t know, but it does. I mean, I don’t think being carried upstairs is particularly swoon-worthy in itself, and definitely not because I’m incapable of dragging myself up three flights if I have to, but because Josh looks genuinely irritated by the idea of me hurting when he could do something about it.
“I can manage,” I tell him, although it comes out softer than before.
His eyes stay on my leg. “You shouldn’t have to manage it when I’m standing right here.”
“You shouldn’t have had to carry me at all.”
“Just let me take you up,” his voice is almost begging. “Then I’ll go get your phone.”
He’s called me stubborn but he’s clearly just as bad. “If you are insistent on helping me, go and get my phone. I’ll get upstairs and pop the kettle on so you can have a cuppa when you get back.”
His jaw works once, and I can tell he hates this compromise even though it is objectively the sensible one. “Fine,” he slowly relents. “But if you get halfway up and your leg goes again, you sit down and wait for me to come back.”
“I will.” I turn towards the entrance and take the first few steps carefully, forcing myself not to favour my right side too much because I can still feel his attention on me.
By the time I reach the doors, I glance back. Josh is still standing where I left him. He holds his hands up. “I’m only making sure you don’t stack it.”
“I’m alright.” I swipe the keyguard. “I’ll see you in a minute.” Looking back, Josh doesn’t move. “You do not have to wait until I am inside the door.”
“Just humour me.”
“Have you come across a serial killer in your time or something? What do you think could possibly happen—” A violent bang cracks above my head before I finish the sentence, loud enough that every muscle in my body seizes at once.
I scream and duck, both hands flying over my head as something scrapes hard against the glass above me.
I don’t get time work out what the hell has happened, before Josh is moving. “Fuck!” He reaches me in a few strides, one hand catching around my upper arm while the other braces across my back as he pulls me away from the wall.
My bad leg twists under me when I stumble into him, fingers gripping the front of his jacket while my heart pounds so hard it feels lodged in my throat.
“What the fuck was that?” he demands, looking up towards the windows above us.
“I don’t know!”
We’re frozen in time. Wrapped in silence except the rush of blood in my ears and panting from both of us.
Then another scraping sound comes from above, followed by a frantic burst of wings.
Josh’s arm tightens around me as something grey drops past the glass, and I scream again before the shape rights itself in the air and flaps unevenly across the courtyard.
We both watch it go.
It was a pigeon.
I’m still gripping Josh’s jacket when he slowly looks down at me, his chest rising hard beneath my hand from the sprint across the pavement, and the expression on his face is so blank that I think he might actually be traumatised by birds.
“It was a pigeon,” I breathe, feeling like I’ve entered some kind of simulation where all birds are out to get me.
Josh’s green eyes are intently on me. “Jesus, Ruby. What the hell did you do to piss off so many birds?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “This stuff only started happening to me when I met you.”