Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
WHO brOUGHT THE SAUCE?
Iwake up clawing at my own neck, still trying to pry his hands loose.
For a second, I don't know where I am.
Then my room comes into focus.
The pile of dirty clothes in the corner.
The neat rows of parts from the alternator I’d been rebuilding on my desk.
The crack in the ceiling I’ve been meaning to patch for six months.
Home.
Shit.
I scrub at my face with both hands, then force my eyes to focus on my phone.
Eleven in the morning.
I was only unconscious for a couple hours, but my body feels like I got hit by a truck and then backed over for good measure.
I stare at the ceiling and try not to think.
It doesn't work.
My throat still aches from where that vampire nearly crushed my windpipe.
The weird cop from this morning keeps popping back into my head.
And then there’s Kallie.
Which is its own fucking problem.
Steam.
Wet skin.
Lavender eyes.
Fuck.
I throw an arm over my face.
The universe is clearly trying to kill me.
One way or another.
Grabbing my glasses, I pull on the sweatpants I’d abandoned on the floor and head for the door.
The smell of bacon and coffee hits me immediately.
My stomach growls.
The rest of me remembers Kallie is in the kitchen.
Fantastic.
Kallie’s standing at the stove.
Yoga pants.
Tank top.
Curly hair piled on top of her head.
I immediately look at the coffee pot.
The coffee pot is safe. It’s never derailed my train of thought just by existing, never looked at me with lavender eyes, never—
Kallie glances over her shoulder and smiles.
Right. Fuck the coffee pot.
“Did you go to the grocery store?” I ask.
Mostly because I need to say something before my brain melts.
Her smile softens.
“I had groceries delivered after you went to bed.”
My gaze catches on the dark circles beneath her eyes.
The way she’s trying a little too hard to sound normal.
The way she’s making breakfast after one of the worst nights of our lives.
But then it turned into one of the best mornings in my life when she let her walls down, just for a bit, just long enough for me to explore parts of her I never thought she’d let me.
Something in my chest tightens.
Yesterday, she watched a guy nearly crush my throat.
And somehow she's the one taking care of me.
As usual.
“Huh. Should’ve thought of that,” I admit.
It’s not enough.
I want to tell her she doesn’t have to pretend she’s okay.
I want to tell her she scared the shit out of me.
I want to tell her that I’ll worship her body every day if she’ll let me.
Instead, I pour coffee.
And immediately spill the coffee.
“Ah, shit.”
Kallie laughs.
The sound settles somewhere deep inside me.
Somewhere dangerous.
So we carry breakfast to the couch.
The dining room table is buried beneath paperwork, laptops, and whatever book Kallie is currently pretending she's going to finish.
Neither of us ever eats there anyway. We always end up here.
Me on one end. Her curled up on the other.
Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like two roommates sharing an apartment and started feeling like... something else. And after this morning, pretending otherwise feels like a lie I’m getting worse at telling.
Damn it.
Kallie settles beside me and hands over a fork.
Sunny-side-up eggs. Bacon. Toast. Grapes.
The full treatment.
Which is weird enough on its own.
Breakfast like this is usually reserved for birthdays, holidays, or the occasional emotional crisis.
Considering yesterday involved a vampire trying to crush my throat, I guess this qualifies. I dig in immediately.
Kallie doesn’t.
She’s staring at her plate. Picking at the edge of her toast. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
Something twists in my gut.
“I was wondering…” Her voice trails off.
I lower my fork.
“Kal, whatever it is, just spit it out.”
Her eyes flick up to mine. For a second, she just stares.
And there it is again.
That weird tension that’s been hanging between us all morning.
Like we’re both trying very hard to act normal.
Like normal is still an option.
“Would you come with me today? To walk the dogs.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Her shoulders relax.
Just a little.
Most people probably wouldn’t notice.
I do.
I always notice.
Watching Kallie work is dangerous.
Not because she’s hot, though she absolutely is.
It’s because she smiles at every dog like it’s the most important creature on earth.
Because she remembers all of their ridiculous names.
Because she somehow convinces eighty-pound monsters to behave with nothing but stubbornness and sheer force of personality.
Because every time I look at her, I find one more reason I’m completely screwed.
“You’re not taking Hank.”
I blink, snapping out of my thoughts.
“What?”
Kallie doesn’t even look up from untangling leashes.
“You’re taking Sir Wigglebutt.”
“The dachshund?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, Kal. I’m not walking the fur-missile.” I point at Hank. “Let me take the big guy off your hands.”
“Not a chance, hotshot.”
“Kallie—”
“Nope.”
“Seriously? What’s the big deal?”
She turns to me and gives me a look. The kind of look that says she’s already had this argument in her head and decided she’s right.
The kind of look that says not only is she right, she’s been right since the dawn of fucking time, and anything else is a waste of oxygen.
I stare down at the alleged Sir Wigglebutt, currently attempting to lick his own ass.
Did I mention he’s ten pounds soaking wet? I could hurl him like a football. In fact, he’s sort of shaped like one.
“I’m perfectly capable of handling Hank. I bench more than you weigh.”
“Maybe, but you’re also injured. And the only thing Hank is going to drag today is my dignity and probably my left arm out of its socket. ’Kay? Cool?”
Before I can come up with a defense, she hands me Sir Wigglebutt's leash.
“And I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
The words are quiet. Almost like she didn't mean to say them out loud.
Something warm settles low in my chest.
“Oh.”
Kallie immediately looks annoyed. Probably because she accidentally revealed she cares.
“Don't make it weird.”
Too late.
Not that I tell her that. I value my continued survival.
Kallie rolls her eyes and turns away before I can say anything else, gathering the remaining leashes into one hand.
“Ready?”
“As I'll ever—”
A sharp bark immediately cuts me off.
Sir Wigglebutt attempts to launch himself after a squirrel approximately three times his size.
I tighten my grip on the leash.
The squirrel looks unimpressed and the dachshund looks personally offended.
And just like that, we’re off.
Hank tries to drag Kallie into a bush.
She plants her feet and yanks him right back. To my complete disbelief, Hank actually listens.
“How—” I start.
Kallie doesn’t even let me finish. She’s already moving, Hank heeling beside her like a show dog, like he didn’t just try to eat a bush.
“Trade secret,” she says, not looking back.
The wind catches Kallie’s hair, causing a few curls to come loose. She tries to stuff them back up into her messy bun, but more escape with every step.
Honestly, it’s a battle she loses every time, but I’m not about to point that out. Not when it’s taking all my energy not to just stare at her like a lovesick idiot.
I mean, what even is my life?
And frankly? I’m willing to take every last crumb of her I can get a hold of, even if it means following her around with a football-shaped fur ball.
I’m trying not to stare at her, which is exactly why I’m the first to see her freeze, her gaze fixed on something in the trees.
She goes tense, making Hank react and stop walking.
“You okay, Kal?”
It takes her a second to answer, her gaze searching for something, and I look in the same direction to see what’s happening.
But all I see are people walking around, some holding hands, others with kids, there’s even someone flying a kite by the pond.
Nothing unusual.
Definitely no one as threatening as last night.
Thank fuck.
“I thought I saw… Nevermind.”
She shakes her head as if dismissing the thought, but the forced casualness in her posture tells me she’s still on high alert.
Hell, I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk in the dark for a while after last night’s events.
I should definitely offer to meet Kallie at the hotel after her next shift. Maybe she’ll actually accept my offer now. After last night, and after this morning…
I’m busy remembering all the ways she’d moaned my name, opened herself to me, looking relaxed, carefree and so fucking beautiful, that I don’t notice Sir Wigglebutt pullin me towards a nearby bench where he walks underneath like it’s a doorway.
Unfortunately for me, the doorway is too short, and I smack my knee right into it, shattering the daydream of her smooth, wet skin.
I let out a sharp yelp. “Ow!” I rub at the joint while Sir Wigglebutt wraps his leash twice—no, make that three times—around the nearby garbage can.
“What happened?”
Her lavender eyes meet mine with concern.
I just throw her a smirk. “You were wrong. Sir Wigglebutt is a much bigger menace than Hank the Tank.”
Her answering laugh makes me forget every bruise and ache. That sound is worth any price, and I’d pay it a thousand times over just to keep hearing it.
I would absolutely endure every and all hardships again and again if it means I get to hear her laugh like this all the time.
New goal unlocked.
Find all the things that make Kallie laugh. And moan. And gasp my name.
Yep.
Solid plan.