Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Ineed to get a grip on myself. When I woke up and August wasn’t right next to me in the bed, I freaked out. To the point I screamed, because my first thought was someone got him. That whoever is trying to kill him actually found him.
My blood turned cold.
I’m still shivering. Even now, after being enveloped in his warmth, I’m still shivering with terror. The scary thing is, I was afraid for him, not me. I need to find a shrink. Or maybe I should call Jade…
But I can’t do that. What would I say? Oh, by the way, I was shot at today? She’d be over here in a heartbeat, threatening August with all kinds of bodily harm.
I don’t need to get her mixed up in this mess. It’s my mess. Well, it’s Riley’s mess, which I’m forced to endure yet again. Although as August’s arms tighten around me and I sink farther into him, I’m not sure endure is the right word. I can’t say I hate being this man’s fake girlfriend.
I could do without the whole shooting thing, but other than that, he really has been the perfect gentleman. He hasn’t pushed for anything sexual. He hasn’t been harsh or cruel to me. He’s been nice, oddly nice. I don’t think any of my real boyfriends were this nice.
Without thought, I lift my face, shifting upwards until my lips brush his, my tongue pushing into his mouth.
Not that he puts up a fight. Then I lift onto my knees, straddle his lap, and press myself even closer against him.
My kiss turns hungry. I’m like a madwoman.
I’m starved. I need him. My fingers tangle through his hair.
It’s soft, and I make a mental note to look at what products he’s using.
A knock at the door has me pulling back, breathless. I look behind August to see his friend.
“Sorry to interrupt, kids,” Colton says, not seeming sorry at all as he struts into the room—yes, struts.
When I go to slide off August’s lap, he tightens his grip around my waist and I flinch. His eyes shift from the tray Colton places on the bedside table to me in a heartbeat.
“What was that?” August asks.
“Nothing,” I tell him. “What’s in the bowl?”
“I thought you might need a pick-me-up. I didn’t know August was already giving you one.” Colton winks. “Anyway, I made you tea. And by some miracle, this asshole actually had real food in his pantry for once so I made cereal salad.” He smiles proudly at me.
Maybe I was too hasty in judging Colton. He seems like a totally different person when he’s not trying to sleep with me.
“Cereal salad?” I peer over into the bowl. “Did you mix Lucky Charms, Froot Loops, and Fruity Pebbles?”
“Yep, cereal salad,” Colton confirms.
While I’m distracted by what looks like the best salad I’ve ever seen, August lifts the hem of my shirt, revealing my bare skin.
“Motherfucker,” he curses as his fingers press along the bruised skin, his touch light as a feather. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“I think you already did,” I whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” He stands, with me in his arms, and carries me into the bathroom.
“I’m fine. It’s just a graze,” I tell him.
“A graze you never should have fucking got. It’s not fine, Hayley.” August is mad. Although I don’t think his anger is directed at me. No, it’s at whomever’s after him. “This is my fault.”
“Someone trying to kill you? Probably your fault.” I shrug. “Us being at the tree farm? That was my idea, my fault.”
“Don’t do that,” August says, lifting my shirt again. I don’t even think about what he’s doing until the whole thing is over my head and tossed onto the floor.
“Do what?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious that I’m sitting in front of him in just my shorts and a lacy bra. Why didn’t I wear a sports bra today?
“Blame yourself.” August moves to the cabinet and pulls out the first aid kit.
“Hayley, you’re really missing out. This salad is delicious.” Colton walks into the bathroom, bowl in hand.
“Get the fuck out. Now,” August growls, standing in front of me to prevent his best friend from getting an eyeful, to go along with the mouthful of my cereal the bastard just downed.
“What’d I do?” Colton asks, unfazed by August’s anger.
“She doesn’t have a shirt on, idiot. Get out!” August yells.
“You’re the one who took it off,” Colton says before calling out to me, “Hayley, I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”
I smile. “Is he always like that?”
“Unfortunately,” August grunts. “This is going to sting. Sorry.” He pours the antiseptic onto some gauze and then wipes over my wound.
I suck in a breath, because it does sting. “You know, it’s just a graze. I’ll be fine,” I tell him.
August leans down and blows over the small scratches, cooling the burn. Then he presses gentle kisses just over the bruise.
“Are you seriously trying to kiss it better?” I laugh.
“Yes.” He peers up at me. “Is it working?”
I smile wider. Who would have thought that this big, bad monster would try to kiss me better?
“I’m not sure. I think you need to keep trying,” I tell him.
August stands to his full height. His hands cup my face, tilting it upwards, and then he’s kissing me. Not for show, not to fake it in front of cameras. No one is here to see and he’s still kissing me.
Sure, when I kissed him on his bed, he returned it. But I thought maybe he was just being polite. There is nothing polite about the way he’s kissing me now, though.