20. Dragon
Chapter Twenty
DRAGON
Iwoke up thirsty.
I was going to die if I didn’t uncurl from my safe, warm, perfect cocoon and get a drink.
But maybe death would be better because then I wouldn’t have to move.
There were things on the other side of movement that I didn’t want to deal with.
Like multiple fractures, maybe my mother sitting in the hospital chair, on the edge of her seat for the moment she could lecture me about how I was going to put her in an early grave if I kept doing stupidly dangerous things involving fuel and tread.
I forced myself to sit up, frowning down at my coveralls. Not in a hospital then. Good. They had terrible food. Where was I? The room was dim, but a lava lamp on a side table showed a velvet Elvis poster and an enormous man sleeping in a chair across from me. My dad?
He stretched out a denim-clad leg, and something in my stomach curled. Horse. His legs were even longer than my dad’s. And he was sprawled on that 70’s chair sleeping. He looked relaxed, almost normal, not the usual brooding, egocentric jerk we all loved to hate.
He was put together very well. I liked to watch him fight Nix, and not just because I liked it when Nix made him bleed. And kissing him? I’d been horribly hung-over, but he still knew how to kiss a girl’s socks off. Not that I’d been wearing socks. I wasn’t wearing socks now, either.
“Are you finished ogling me, Dragon, or do you need to undress me with your eyes a little longer? You’d better ogle and eat crackers at the same time.
” He gestured a lazy hand at the bed beside me.
The half of the king I wasn’t on had trays and trays of crackers and bottles of various water/sports drinks.
I grabbed the bowl of saltines and nibbled while staring at Horse. I wasn’t ogling him. I was trying to figure out why I was in the same room as him. Things were fuzzy, but then it all came back, and I froze, not eating while the horror of the past…
I took a long drink of water and then asked, “How long have I been out?” I grabbed a handful of goldfish crackers. I hadn’t had goldfish crackers since I was a kid. I hadn’t felt so out of control since I was a kid, either.
“The attack was yesterday evening, around four. You spent some time dealing with the drug, and then today you rested pretty well. I had to go and do some business for a little while. Ran into Daniela. She’s coming by in a few minutes.
So if you’d rather stay with her, that’s an option.
I’m glad we agreed that you shouldn’t stay in your own apartment until we get to the bottom of this. ”
“Didn’t we already decide I was staying here?” I said slowly. I wasn’t entirely sure that had really happened. Why would Horse want me here in his guest bedroom if he didn’t want any other women in here? It didn’t make any sense.
He smiled broadly. “I’d love you to stay with me, absolutely would make selling the fake baby daddy thing much easier, but whatever makes you comfortable.
” He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood.
“You know what you should do? Come on a tour with me before your friends arrive, and you can see if the apartment would work for you.”
I grabbed a bowl of crackers and scooted out of bed, still feeling weird and wobbly. “Yeah. More information is always a plus. If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind me infringing on your holy sanctuary of bad taste,” I mumbled, glaring at the nearest velvet Elvis poster.
“I do mind. I’d prefer if you stayed here. It feels weird to have such a big apartment with only myself, but it’s so hard to get good roommates. I had this one, just partied all the time, particularly when I had a five o’clock start date the next morning.”
“I take it you don’t want me to have benders at your place.”
His dark, masculine brows rose. “Benders? While you’re pregnant? No. I don’t want you to have those in my place. Or any place. And if there’s anything I can do to help mitigate your need for excitement, let me know. I’m a really good Scrabble player.”
“Scrabble?” I frowned at him. I used to play Scrabble with my dad. “That wouldn’t be terrible.”
He opened the far door and gestured me through. “Welcome to the castle.”
I started past him, then stopped and turned so I was right at his chest, both of us in the doorway. “Horse, I hate to say this, so listen up.”
He leaned close enough that his nose almost brushed mine. “I’m listening.” The way he was looking at me started to make my skin prickle. He had this way of looking at you that made you feel like the only person in the world.
“Thank you for letting me find refuge in your empty nest of iniquity. And the crackers. And the heroic rescue. My mother would have lost it if I were murdered.”
He laughed, low and warm like a crackling fire on a cold day. Good thing we were in Vegas and there were no such things as truly cold days.
“Wow. Your mother would have lost it? I would have lost it. Fighting with you in the lobby gives my life meaning. If you really feel like you owe me, agree to stay here and be the best roommate ever.”
I rolled my eyes and stalked past him, still holding the crackers.
“I didn’t say I owed you; I said thank you.
There’s a difference.” Why did he want me to be his roommate?
It was weird to think that there was any way he couldn’t find a good roommate if he wanted one.
He had his team. No, it would be awkward to have a team member living with you when you were the leader, and of course he couldn’t be close friends with other team leaders because they were opposition.
I could tell that Horse would have preferred Nix to be his friend, but Nix didn’t really do close relationships, at least not until Kitten.
Was Horse genuinely lonely? He had plenty of women, but none he let get too close.
That’s what bothered me the most about him, the fact that he was wasting his life out here when he could have been building real happiness with someone.
Maybe he had a reason he couldn’t let people in, like I did. A hidden wound.
We stepped into the ridiculously large two and a half story apartment, with plenty of open space so he could practice on the mats stacked against one wall with all the weapons displayed neatly above.
There was a fireplace on the opposite wall with cozy furniture around it, overstuffed, large, Horse’s size, with pictures of Horse winning fights and races along with various martial arts slogans.
A large stretch of glass showed a garden, not a city view. Interesting choice. “You have a garden,” I said, walking to the glass wall.
“Yeah. Sorry for all the weapons. I only just now realized how stupid it is to have so many different kinds of blades on display.”
“They look like they’re all practice grade. You should have Nix up. He’d love to work out with you. I’d love to work out with you if I weren’t pregnant. I haven’t done sword forms forever.”
He got this weird look on his face and cleared his throat. “You’d do sword forms with me? That’s so cool.” He beamed. “You’re going to be the best housemate ever.”
His enthusiasm was disconcerting. Maybe he really was lonely.
Maybe sometimes I was too. I nibbled a cracker and then cleared my throat.
“Sometimes I take apart engines in the living room.” I nodded over at the couches and chairs.
“I’d probably do that a lot here if I couldn’t use the mats or the bags. ”
He patted a punching bag hanging from the two and a half story ceiling on thick chains. “No problem. Engines are glorious.” He looked around the room and then nodded at a twisted engine behind glass. “Like that.”
I went over and peered at the old crank engine. “What is this?” I read the little plaque next to it. “First Ford to run in the Indy five hundred?” I looked at Horse who smiled, slightly embarrassed.
“It’s a classic.”
I laughed and tapped the glass. “Too bad it’s behind glass. That would be really fun to take apart.” I loved that he had an engine behind glass. It showed a streak of sentimentality that he apparently kept hidden.
“Well, that might make it lose value, but for the sake of fun…” he said slowly, dark brows coming together.
I raised my hands. “No. It’s fine. I won’t touch your prized engine. Do you want to show me the kitchen?”
“Yes.” He nodded and walked backward a few steps before whirling around and heading around a curved wall. I stopped for a second to stare at the enormous piano. It didn’t really match the weapons or the punching bags, but it was a gorgeous thing, all glossy black and curves.
“You play?” I asked.
He glanced at it and then at me. “Some. It came with the apartment. It’s too big to move.”
“It’s stunning.”
He blinked at me and then looked at the piano like he hadn’t really seen it before.
“I guess. Yeah. I guess it takes craftsmanship to make. Like a good custom beast. Anyway, dining room…” He stopped and stared inside the room that had a wall-sized picture of Horse getting punched hanging behind the long table.
Red gloves, his face all squished up, sweat droplets flying and rolling down his face.
It wasn’t at all the kind of picture I would imagine an egotistical fighter would plaster on his wall.
I walked into the room to get a better look.
That forearm attached to the glove that just punched Horse had to be Nix.
And in the background, in the stands, you could see me leaning on the bars, yelling something about putting up his mitts, Jezebel’s silhouette beside me.
With his face so close, I could see every single one of Horse’s pores. Not a picture made for adulation.
“It’s to remind you to keep up your mitts,” I said, flashing him a smile. “I like it.”
He blinked at me, a weird look on his face. “Yeah. It’s super flattering.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “You always look good when you get punched in the face. It’s a gift.”