Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
JOSH
I jolted awake with a flop onto the thin carpet that did little to save me from the unforgiving concrete floor.
How long had I been out?
I grabbed my phone. 7:03.
Seven. Zero. Three.
It was morning?
I rushed out of the office. Vinny and Erika were asleep on makeshift beds next to Petey’s cage.
Erika had one arm thrown out to the side with her head on a folded towel.
The blanket she rested on didn’t provide much padding.
Asleep, she looked different. Younger. Softer.
But no less beautiful with her brown hair wild and everywhere.
An alarm went off on her phone. She batted at it and muttered something, but got up as if on autopilot. She checked Petey’s fluid bag and then emptied his chest tube. “You look good, bud.”
“You should’ve woken me up,” I said.
With a start, she shot upright so fast that she slammed her thigh on the metal cage door. “Son of a nutcracker.” She bent over at the waist and massaged her thigh. “That’s going to bruise.”
“I would’ve gotten up if you called me.” I tried to smooth down my hair, but it remained nuts based on my reflection in the side of the bank of cages.
“I did call. Twice. You were dead asleep in the office.” She shrugged.
“I was here. Vinny conked out. Petey is fine. His chest tube isn’t filling much.
We can probably decrease our checks to every four hours today.
You can stop the pain meds infusion in another two hours and go to regular fluids and injections every twelve. ”
“Thank you for letting me sleep. I needed it.”
She blinked at me. “Did you say thank you?”
I swallowed a laugh. “Yeah. I haven’t slept through the night in…” I tried to count on my fingers. “I don’t know. Four or five days.”
“You being nice still doesn’t mean I’m staying.”
You stayed last night. You were even nice enough to let me sleep.
While she gazed at Petey once more, she pulled her long hair up off her neck into a haphazard bun and rocked her head as if working out a kink.
Her exposed neck stopped me cold. Instead of looking away like a sane adult, I let my eyes linger on the small indentation at the back of it—the exact spot that used to make her moan when I kissed her there.
Would she still make that sound now?
And—because my brain hates me—did she make that same sound for her boyfriend?
The thought arrived uninvited, kicked its feet up, and reminded me just how little I knew about her life now.
For all I knew, she was blissfully in love.
Engaged. Planning a tasteful fall wedding with pumpkins and artisanal cider.
My gaze snapped to her ring finger.
Empty.
Hope flickered. Then immediately scolded me for entertaining it at all.
When she turned, now massaging her neck, my gaze moved further south where that tight top she’d been wearing last night gaped so low I could almost see each nipple. There was a miniature black dragon half-circling her left breast. I didn’t blame Drew for losing the fight to stare.
She followed the line of my gaze. Her cheeks tinged pink as she gave me a single eyebrow raise.
“They’re…uh… That’s a dragon.” It was all I could muster.
She moved those extraordinary breasts to be more fully supported and covered by the conforming shirt-bodice thing.
“I know they’re…” She pointed at her breasts and shrugged.
“I like to eat and don’t have time to exercise.
Every extra calorie goes right here.” She patted her boobs.
“Well, also here.” She pointed at her ass.
“Mom always used to say men wanted a little something to grab onto, which is why I might as well eat cookies.”
“Cookies are yummy.” I repeated, because my vocabulary had officially shrunk to baked goods and panic.
She laughed—soft, familiar, unfair. The sound hit me square in the chest, right next to the old memories I pretended were archived instead of actively running as background processes.
“You always were easy to distract,” she said.
Easy wasn’t the word. I was a cautionary tale. A man derailed by dragons, cookies, and a woman who knew exactly how to raise one eyebrow and unravel a decade of emotional progress.
I forced my eyes back to her face, where they belonged, even as my pulse kept time somewhere south of reasonable thought.
“For the record,” I said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near fragile, “I approved of you before. The upgrades are just—” I gestured vaguely, because words were traitors.
“Uh-huh.” She tilted her head, studying me like she used to, weighing whether to tease or show mercy. “Will you help?”
“Help with what?” My brain immediately supplied the least helpful answer possible: Touch your boobs? Uh, yes.
She pointed at Vinny.
I stared, unmoving, my imagination in overdrive.
“Did you hear me?” She waved again. “Can you please move him to the car? He’s too heavy for me to lift.”
“Oh, sure.” I leaned down and scooped him up. “The tattoos are nice work.”
Nice, neutral topic. I was proud of myself for formulating the coherent words.
“The artist who did them is incredible.” She put away the towels they’d been lying on and collected her things. “She’s got places in Philly and LA. I had to wait seven months to get an appointment with her locally. Then I flew to LA with a friend for the second one.” She held open the door for me.
“Ah.” I followed her to her car. The cold breeze slammed into me. “You think you can get him back out of the car when you get to your place?”
She kicked her hip out beside her car once she closed the back seat where Vinny rested. The wind grabbed her hair and blew it in her face, before she pushed it behind each ear. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Dr. Voodoo Ears. No, I’m not going to invite you over just because you drooled over my—”
“I did not drool.” I interrupted.
She leaned back against her car, eyebrows raising. “You stared at my chest like it was giving a TED Talk.”
“I glanced,” I corrected. “Briefly. Respectfully.”
“Your pupils dilated.” She rolled her eyes. “You just did it again. You want to touch the dragon, don’t you?”
I stepped into her and growled low, “You want me to touch it.”
Her eyes burned with fire. That familiar, reckless spark crackled between us.
I said, “At least you won’t lie to me and deny it.”
“I never wanted you to touch it.” Her eyes dropped to my lips.
Oh.
She wanted me to kiss along the tattoo.
She hooked two fingers under my chin and tipped my face up to hers. “Lordy, you have a naughty mind. Everyone thinks you’re this handsome Prince Charming, but really you’re a black-hearted pirate.”
I smirked. “You want this pirate to ravish you.”
“Ravish?” She exploded into deep, contagious belly laughter that dragged a laugh out of me too. “No one actually says ravish. You have them all fooled, but I know exactly what lives in that twisty black organ in here.” She poked a finger into my chest for emphasis.
“You’re the first person to accuse me of being a black-hearted, naughty-minded pirate.”
She pushed away from me and strolled around the car. “You like the idea of being a pirate capable of…” She rolled her eyes, but a snort of laughter escaped. “Ravishing.” Then she got serious. “Are you actually sleeping around town or are all the women here hoping they’ll get ravished?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I walked away. I forced myself not to look back. It was hard. So hard.
Once inside the clinic I did a fist pump. For once, I’d gotten in the last word.