Chapter 7
7
Emery
I ’m doing chores when the knock at the door catches me off guard.
Who on Earth? And at this hour?
I peer through the spy hole and almost pass out in shock.
It’s him . The guy from the hospital.
My body reacts before my brain; my cheeks flush with heat, and my nipples harden, showing through my thin camisole.
I should be scared, but my first thought is that I wish I were more presentable. My pajama pants, tiny strappy top, and thick socks are not the stuff of seduction.
There’s little I can do except straighten my scruffy bun and hope the lighting is low enough to hide the worst.
God damn. Why is he here?
I open the door and hide behind it. I could have called the police instead and said I had a stalker outside my apartment, but the truth is, I didn’t even consider it.
The reason is shameful; he’s so ridiculously attractive, and he kissed me in a way that left me reeling. That doesn’t make him less dangerous, but it might explain my Dateline-level dumb-assery.
“You followed me home?” I ask, peering around the door. “That’s crazy. What makes you think you can just?—”
He holds up a takeout bag, and I catch the scent of warm noodles.
“I got one spicy miso and one shoyu,” he says. “Not sure which you’d prefer. But if you like both, keep one for tomorrow or share it with your…cat?” He looks over my shoulder. “Or dog, whatever it is. You have a pet, right?”
I frown. “I don’t. What are you?—”
“I could hear you talking to someone before I knocked.”
Oh no. What’s the best course of action here? Do I claim insanity—never a hard sell—or swallow my embarrassment and admit the sad, mad truth?
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was speaking to him,” I say, pointing behind me.
The stranger slides his eyes in the direction of my gesture and then brings them back to my face.
“The houseplant?” he asks slowly.
I square my shoulders. “Yes. It’s not so strange. I treat him well; special plant food, soil nutrients, you name it. Enrichment is part of that.”
He nods solemnly, barely keeping it together. “You should take the same good care of yourself, Emery. Does this rival for your affection have a name?”
“Phil. Phil O’Dendron.”
This hurls him over the edge of control, and he bursts into laughter.
“I love it. Is he Irish?”
I fold my arms indignantly. “No, that’s the genus of the plant, a philodendron. God, you sound like Dante when you?—”
“No, you have me all wrong,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, just charmed. You’re wonderful.”
I don’t know how to respond, and we stare at one another for a beat. He holds the takeout bag toward me.
“I’m Leon,” he says. “And not a houseplant. Does that count against me?”
“Yes, but then again, Phil never brought me food.” I take the bag, trying to keep my tone light. “Are you some kind of vigilante Doordasher? You fight bad guys and deliver food in thirty minutes or less?”
“Something like that. Care to give me a tip?”
“Sure—how about, ‘wait for an order first?’”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
His laugh rumbles from his broad chest. He’s still not wearing a shirt, and I fail spectacularly to ignore his taut abdomen and intricate tattoos as I put the food on my kitchen counter.
It’s another dumb move, turning my back on him like this. But something in me wants him to stay, even if I’m afraid to admit it.
Leon is leaning on the doorframe, watching me intently. He shifts his weight through his hips, adjusting his stance, and I swallow hard.
“Bad guys come in a few different flavors, val’kiriya .” His voice drops as he takes a single step my way. “And so does ramen, apparently.”
“Yeah, but how?—”
“I read your bumper sticker and decided, rather than send the noods, I’d bring them myself. Seeing as I was already in the area.”
“You followed me?”
“Damn right I did.”
There’s an edge in his gaze, a possessive intensity that borders on overpowering. My pulse races as he studies me, his eyes lingering in a way that makes my skin feel feverish.
Oh my God. Obviously, nothing would happen anyway, but if Dante’s lackeys catch me with any man in my apartment, let alone this man, he’ll make my life even more miserable than it already is.
On the other hand, Dante is careful not to bare his teeth at anyone who might get the upper hand. I don’t think Leon has any such concerns; he looks like he would take apart anyone stupid enough to challenge him, and I doubt many would care to try.
Leon’s eyes darken beneath his lowered brow. He’s holding back, ready to break loose at the slightest provocation.
If he kisses me again, I don’t know what I’ll ? —
My phone rings, the trill cutting through the tension.
Panic grips me. No one calls me this late except Dante, and it’s over six hours to LA from New York; his flight must be delayed or canceled. What if he’s on his way back here?
“Go,” I say. “You have to.”
“Okay,” Leon murmurs, his gaze lingering on my face. “But believe me, Dr. Bright—I won’t go far. Leave the blind open.”
He reaches for me, and I freeze, conditioned by the many times my violent fiancé put his hands on me in anger.
I squeeze my eyes closed, but instead of harsh fingers circling my wrist, I feel Leon’s hand on my face, brushing a loose tendril of hair back so he can tuck it behind my ear.
“Easy, Emery,” he says. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”
The gentleness in his voice makes me ache inside, longing for a tenderness I didn’t know I craved. Then he’s gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
I give a shuddering sigh and snatch my phone, frowning at the number before I swipe to green.
“Emery? It’s Debra from staffing. Can you come in early tomorrow?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just got home. How early?”
“Six. Dr. Harrison needs cover for his first clinic because he’s going to the ballet tonight; it’s a make-up gift for his wife after that thing with his secretary.”
Ah, I heard about that. A man with a loving wife and family, who had a dalliance with a young, impressionable woman, knocked her up, forced her into an abortion, and then made it impossible for her to stay in her job.
I’m not in any position to judge the wife or the mistress. I’m here in my fancy apartment, paid for by my soon-to-be-husband, who doesn’t even know what love means.
Some women get to believe in happily ever afters, if only for a while.
Adoration is for princesses in fairy tales, not for lonely women like me who use work to hide from the world and accept mistreatment like it’s all they deserve.
But Leon gave me a glimpse of a life where I don’t allow myself to be pushed around.
Maybe I should try it on for size? Just to see how it feels.
“Tell Dr. Harrison to go to Hell,” I say into the phone. “And you know what else, Debra? Six a.m. is only five hours away, so it’s shitty of you to ask. Take your unreasonable requests elsewhere for a change because I’m saying no.”
I hang up and stare at the phone, half expecting her to call back, but she doesn’t. I’m shocked at myself but proud.
Who is this assertive woman, and what has she done with Dr. Doormat?
My eyes fall on the takeout bag. It’s been months since I last had ramen; Dante likes to pontificate about the adverse effects of carbs even as he tucks into his fifth slice of pizza.
I take a drink and chopsticks over to the couch and dig into my meal, almost tearfully grateful.
It’s not just the physical sustenance; it’s the unexpected soul food of having someone else consider what I want, even briefly.
I still can’t believe I got caught talking to Phil. ‘Mad Plant Lady’ has to be worse than ‘Mad Cat Lady.’
Congrats, Em. You’ve hit new depths of loserdom, but don’t worry—it’s not like an insanely hot man witnessed it. That would have been really embarrassing.
I feel stupid, sure, but beneath that is a primal stirring, an ache that feels deeper than hunger.
I’ve lived a sheltered life, and I didn’t keep my virginity until twenty-six without some restless nights. But the sensation was never this insistent. A simmering tension thrums through me, refusing to fade.
Although I’m exhausted, my need for sleep is overtaken by the urge to give myself some relief, to indulge in a lurid fantasy as I move my hands over my most intimate places.
After all, no one, not even Dante, can take my secret thoughts away.
I close my eyes and see Leon’s intense, focused gaze. He looked at me like no other woman existed.
Tonight, I’ll let myself go. I’ll let my fantasies roam where they will.
And when I come, it’ll be with Leon’s name on my lips.