Eight #2
“Listen, Jory, I’m starting my life, ya know? I’m an attending now at the hospital, I bought my first place, and I’m ready for the guy, the one guy who’s gonna be my partner and build my future with me. I don’t mean to scare you, but when I met you, I had a feeling that you were the guy.”
The man had definitely confused so-so sex with love.
“Jory?”
“Nicky, you think maybe you just needed to get laid?”
“You know, I’m gonna forgive you for being a total prick since you’re in shock right now and probably getting frostbite.”
“Sorry,” I breathed out. “That was a shitty thing to say.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Nick, I—”
“No. Just shut up and listen. Do you know you never listen?”
It was true, I didn’t.
“Jory, I can get laid any night of the week. What I want is to be in bed with someone I can see a future with, not just a one-night stand. I wanna be your guy.”
“Why do you even care? Why not just call it a day with me?”
“No. We’re not gonna do that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m crazy about you, I told you already.”
“But why?”
He chuckled. “You’re fishing.”
“I’m confused,” I assured him.
“Jory, you’re funny and smart, and those big dark eyes of yours are… And you told me my sunglasses were ugly.”
“They were ugly.”
His exhale was long. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”
“Nick—”
“It’s your lips, they drive me nuts,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I never wanted to stop kissing you.”
He was just the nicest guy who did nothing for me.
“I really…” His voice was hoarse. “Hey, do me a favor? Look up at the street sign where you are and read it to me. I’m heading for my car.”
“No. I’ll call ya tomorrow, I swear.”
“Jory, you need to sleep, and you need somebody to take care of you. I want to be that somebody. Besides, who’s better than a doctor?”
I smiled into the phone and promised to call the next day after work. I hung up while he was still begging me to tell him where I was. The phone rang again immediately, and I realized I had missed eleven calls while I was talking to Nick.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” he asked, his voice icy.
“Sam, I—”
“So help me God, if you don’t tell me where you are right this second, I will shoot you myself as soon as I find your scrawny ass.”
I chuckled. “I thought you liked my ass.”
No answer.
“Is that not right, Detective?”
“You cocky piece of shit. You’re gonna throw that in my face now?”
“Actually, I’m not gonna do anything at all to you or with you or…
Shit.” I was really tired suddenly. The very last of my adrenaline was gone.
I wanted somebody to take care of me. “Just have the other detective call me, all right? I don’t wanna see you anymore. I gotta go. I gotta call somebody to—”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me again or I will… Oh, look at that,” he said at the same time I heard the sharp squeal of brakes.
My head came up, and I saw him double-parked on the street. He slammed his door and came around the front of his SUV. I didn’t even try to stand. I leaned my head against the wall next to the stairs instead. Everything hurt, and I was cold right down to my bones.
“Jory, I’m gonna—”
“God,” I groaned. “What do you want?”
When he didn’t say anything, I looked up into his face. His jaw was clenched and his dark eyes were locked on mine.
“I think I…” There was a ringing in my ears, and I felt like someone had shoved an ice pick into my skull between my eyes. “Oh shit.”
He crouched in front of me, and his hands moved to my face as I rode out the pain. When it receded, I stared into his eyes.
“Jory, your lips are blue.” He groaned before he blew out a breath. “Christ. Can you walk?”
I shook my head.
He took me in his arms, crushing me to his hard chest, and the warmth was instant and amazing. “I’m taking you home with me, so wrap your brain around it.”
“Okay.”
When he stood up, I put my head on his shoulder, and he rubbed his chin over my head.
As everything spun, I was lifted into the car seat.
In the SUV, he stroked my hair as I closed my eyes.
He had the heater up on high, and all I heard was the sound of the blower.
I didn’t remember the rest of the drive.
I was warm, and every single part of me felt heavy. I rolled over and realized I was under a sheet and several blankets in a huge bed.
“You awake?”
I looked up, and Sam stepped away from the window where he was standing.
“Kind of.”
He took a breath. “Good.”
“Thanks.”
“You want something?”
I carefully shook my head.
“This is my place, obviously. I live here alone, so—”
“What am I doing here?”
“You passed out in my car. I had to do something.”
“Why didn’t you take me back to the hospital?”
His jaw clenched. “’Cause you just have a concussion. I know all about those.”
I smiled at him before I looked around the room. “Is it okay if I take a shower?”
“Sure.” He walked over to the bed. “You need help getting up?”
“No,” I said, but I didn’t move. He nodded, staring down at me.
I arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, well, it’s right through there.” He pointed to the right. “I’ll bring you some sweats, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
When he left, I threw back the covers and got up in stages.
First sitting up, then getting my legs over the side of the bed, moving next to setting my bare feet on the polished hardwood floor.
I was so glad I wasn’t dizzy. I didn’t want to do a face-plant onto his Navajo-patterned throw rug, and even more… I didn’t want to need him.
I stood in the shower under the hot water until it ran cold.
When I got out, I went through his medicine cabinet and found only the essentials.
There was none of my cocoa butter lotion, my hair products, my moisturizer, or my lip balm.
I was completely addicted to lip balm and applied it all day every day.
There was a gentle knock on the door after a few minutes.
I hadn’t really registered the first few times he’d tapped since I was busy scrutinizing my black eye and the bruises on my throat.
“Yeah?”
“I put the sweats out here on the bed.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
I finally found some Jergens lotion under the sink, used that everywhere, then waited a few more minutes to make sure he’d left the room before I went out. I didn’t want to talk to him; I just wanted to rest.
The sweats he left me were neatly folded on the bed, there was a long-sleeve T-shirt as well, and when I put the sweats on, I had to turn the bottoms up, like, six times, pull the drawstring really tight, and roll the top over before they would even stay on my hips.
The T-shirt was just as ill-fitting. I would definitely not be borrowing any more of Sam Kage’s clothes.
I climbed back into his bed and lay down.
I was exhausted just from the effort a shower had taken.
“Hey.” He walked into the bedroom. “You feel better?”
I bunched one of his pillows up behind my head, getting comfortable. It was raining outside—really hard, from what I could hear—and I knew it was cold. But I was warm and cozy in bed.
“You look very content.”
“’Cause I am.” I smiled, looking around the room, letting out a deep sigh.
“Ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Who’s Nick Sullivan?”
“Doctor I date.”
“Oh, okay.”
“He’s very nice.”
“Oh yeah? Very nice?”
I grunted because I wasn’t really listening.
“Very nice is the kiss of death,” he assured me, and I felt the bed dip as he took a seat beside me. “Right?”
“Pretty much.”
“He’s into you, huh?”
I glanced up at him and gave him a half grin.
“He must be because he’s called, like, a dozen times. I turned your phone off ’cause I got sick of hearing it.”
“He likes my scrawny ass,” I teased him, smiling.
“I like it too.”
I opened my eyes as he ran the backs of his fingers up my throat.
“At least you’re not freezing anymore.”
The noise I made was halfway between a moan and sigh. I was glad I was under so many blankets so he couldn’t tell I was excited.
“You sound like you’re purring.”
I smiled, and his hand went around my throat.
“I wanted to strangle you when I called and found out you’d left the hospital. I mean, Jesus, Jory, you were almost killed tonight.”
I closed my eyes again, rolling over away from his touch. “Can you get me some water?”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, then left.
I was asleep before he came back.