Chapter 2 #2
Of course, no answers came and as quickly as it had gone, my vision and hearing returned and I was falling.
Naturally, I cursed myself for not wearing a helmet.
This is what I got for trying to look cute and do something new.
A busted head. My elven magic forced its way through my body without thought, in what I thought was an attempt to protect me, but it failed to ward me from impact.
Instead I hit the ground, landing on my left arm.
I could feel my skin scrape against the concrete and I cried out from the sharp pain. Better than my head, I suppose.
A deeper shout from a voice that was definitely not me, spread a booming curse through the air. I looked across the street to see Harris on the ground, lying on his back, staring up at the sunny sky with angry eyes.
Where the hell had he come from, and how had I not noticed him long beforehand?
Sure, I was deep in my thoughts, but not so much that I didn’t notice anything around me.
Then again, I was distracted by my painful levitation.
What was that? A magical heart attack or stroke?
Is that how they worked? No, I wouldn’t have recovered that quickly and why would it be magical?
I sat up, cradling my bleeding and scraped arm, peering at Harris. His long black hair was pulled back in a low bun, and he was wearing black shorts and a T-shirt with sneakers. I hadn’t seen him look that casual since we were teens. “Harris?”
Harris groaned and stood up, looking over at me still on the ground with my bloody arm. “Fuck, you’re bleeding.”
He rushed over to me and picked me up in his arms. I yelped in surprise. “What are you doing? It’s just my arm. My legs are fine.”
He ignored me and instead tightened his grip. “How do we know that? What the fuck just happened?”
I had never been picked up like this by Harris before, and I didn’t exactly hate it. “You felt it too? Momentary blindness and floating and pain?”
He nodded, his eyes darkening as he continued to assess me. “Someone did something to us. Shit.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? Like a magic attack?”
He looked around the fairly quiet residential street, eyes narrowing. He was going into work mode. “I think so. Do you feel any magic around us? Is the attacker still here?”
I closed my eyes, using my elven and mage magic to sense another magic user but came up with nothing. “No, I don’t feel anything.”
He didn’t look relieved, not that I blame him. This was scary. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“What do you mean? Why are you here?”
He raised his shoulders, looking slightly uncomfortable. “When you put the suggestion out there about taking a vacation, I decided to listen.”
“And you picked the same time and place as me?”
“It just seemed practical, seeing as Marcus has the beach house here. I should have known enemies would follow me here. I can’t even go for a fucking jog.”
Did I really believe that? Maybe this was his sneaky way of seeing me. That dinner certainly made me want to see him again. For old times’ sake. “Uh-uh, and you think they, whoever they are, followed you around and waited to attack me too because of you?”
He was already busy typing away on his phone as I spoke.
Most likely letting his right hand, or whoever, know of the attack and springing into defense or offense mode.
I had no idea how the mafia moved. “It’d be na?ve to assume otherwise.
We aren’t safe out here. Do you have a first aid kit at your place?
Or I can get some things from the pharmacy. ”
“Yes, I have one back at the cottage.”
He looked back at my abandoned but intact bike. “Can you ride on the back of the bike, or can I carry you there?”
He really was doing too much, but I had to admit that I liked the attention. “I can.”
His face took on a more serious glare. “I won’t get you hurt. I promise.”
We positioned ourselves on the bike, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. My fingers could barely grip each other across his stomach.
His ridiculously defined, hard stomach. Was he always this muscular?
And did he always smell this good? Like woods and something mildly sweet.
I sucked in another whiff of him and pressed my fingers tighter to his stomach as he began to pedal us in the direction of my cottage.
And for a mild minute, I was distracted by a very important question. “Hey, how do you know where I’m staying?”
I felt his stomach clench. Was that from confusion? Embarrassment? Me touching him? “What? Oh, yeah. I didn’t even think. So, this is the right way?”
I replied in the affirmative, and we made it back to my place in one piece. When I got off the bike, I expected Harris to leave, but instead he set down the kickstand and followed me. I turned slightly to him, giving a questioning look. “I can clean myself up.”
He nodded as he kept walking. “I know you can, but I’m making sure. Also, we’re going to have to pack you up because you can’t stay here now. It’s not safe. Clearly someone knows we know each other.”
I snorted. Of course, he’d be taking charge.
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted answers.
“Oh, now you care about whether I’m okay,” I muttered as I unlocked my door.
Okay, chill, girl, where did that come from?
Well, we knew where that came from. I could fake like everything was fine between us when his brother was there, but with just the two of us, the memories and hurt wouldn’t disappear.
Harris paused before entering the cottage, a pained look on his face. “Cammy-”
I walked further in, my anger rising at the memory of the time we spoke all those years ago, dulling out the ache of my banged-up arm. “I think the first aid kit’s in the bathroom. I’ll be back. Please close the door before flies get in.”
When I came back from the bathroom, Harris was standing in the open kitchen talking on his phone and looking around like he was inspecting the place for what I didn’t know.
“I’m getting you guards and another place to stay. This isn’t going to work.” He walked toward me and took the kit from my hands. “Let me do this.”
He tilted his head to the dining table, adjacent to the kitchen. I dutifully followed. As I always did. As everyone did. “Still bossy, I see.”
I hated to take orders but also, I had no idea what was going on.
I could be angry, but I couldn’t be stupid.
I wanted a peaceful vacation to clear my head, not dodging magical attacks and I knew better than to think this was a coincidence.
Someone could have been following him, but they waited until I appeared to do anything.
He shrugged, face unnervingly neutral. He was in business mode. “Sit.”
Once again, I followed directions. Why was I doing that? Well, I did hurt my arm. There were other hills to die on.
He moved a chair in front of me, and I watched silently as he went through the kit and pulled out the things he needed. “Now that I have you captive, you’ll let me apologize,” he stated more as a demand than a question as he poured benzol peroxide on a cotton ball.
That was so him to say it that way. “Apologize for what?”
He glanced up at me quickly with a doubtful look before focusing back on what he was doing. “For how harsh I was when we spoke all those years ago.”
I huffed. “And ending our almost twenty-year friendship out of the blue.”
He lifted my arm, and I bared my elbow to him.
He then leaned forward and breathed over my wound as he dabbed at it with the damp cotton ball.
I still felt a bit of the sting, but not as much had he not breathed on my skin.
It was surprisingly nurturing of him and mildly seductive.
For the second time that day, my stomach twisted with something close to desire for him.
He looked at me with hooded eyes. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head as he put a large band-aid on the wound and then leaned back as if admiring his work.
I eyed him expectantly. Was that it? I was twenty-seven the last time we talked, and now I was at the ripe old age of forty-two, and he just casually said sorry for tossing our friendship in the trash for no reason.
I kept my mouth shut as I waited for him to say more words to better his so far sorry apology.
He squinted his eyes, a slight smirk on his lips.
I hated him. At least I actually wanted to hate him because why did he have the pure audacity to look so damn good?
He always had. And there went my stupid heart, beating so rapidly I thought he could hear it.
How did I still have a crush on him after all this time?
I’d been married and had a few boyfriends, but the boy I had my first crush on at ten was still it for me.
I’d kept it to myself, like a soldier, and things had been much easier after he yelled at me back then.
However, he was so sweet the other day and, although he’d crashed into me just now, the way he’d taken care of me was swoon-worthy.
But I had to be strong. I couldn’t let him off the hook.
Despite his smile and hypnotic eyes. What was he trying to do here?
We’d never flirted before. Well, not strongly.
Wait, was he flirting with me? Was I reading too much into this?