Page 85 of A Stop in Time
Once I arrive at the gated entrance, I realize it’ll be a bit of a struggle to get her keys from her pocket without jostling her too much, let alone unlocking things. I decide to unlock my car and ease her along the back seat. After making quick work of the gate, I slip behind the wheel and drive inside only to stop briefly and lock up behind me.
She can get pissed at me all she wants later, but I’m not leaving her alone like this.
It takes me three guesses before I find the correct key to her living quarters above the building. It’s small but neat, and I easily find her bedroom.
Gently, I lay her on the covers of the neatly made king bed that takes up most of the space in the room. Unfastening her boots, I remove them before lifting her legs and placing her in a more comfortable position on the mattress.
I remain beside the bed, unable to drag my eyes off her. She appears so much softer in her sleep that it’s like looking at a completely different woman. Without thinking, I reach out and trace my thumb beneath the purplish-green bruise under her eye.
I still don’t know what the fuck to make of the fierce protectiveness she brings out in me.
I’m only stickin’ around because I need her help. That reminder has me drawing away and retreating a step from the bed.
I ignore the way my stomach tangles itself in a knot and force myself to leave the room.
The worn leather armchair sitting in view of her bedroom gives a faint creak in protest when I sink into it. I tug her coffee table closer and stretch my long legs out in front of me, propping my feet on the sturdy wood. Weariness has me exhaling a long, slow breath and I lean back against the chair’s cushions.
I link my fingers at the back of my head, my attention riveted on the sleeping woman in the bedroom.
The woman who’s got me intrigued as fuck when I sure as hell shouldn’t be.
41
MAC
Monday
My eyes flash open to stare at my bedroom ceiling, and relief instantly blankets me. Evidently, the universe took pity on me for once and granted me a reprieve from my sleepwalking shenanigans.
I blink the sleep from my eyes when something past my open doorway draws my attention. Surprise suspends my breath in my chest. Holy shit.
Having pulled my coffee table closer to prop his outstretched legs on it, Daniel sits, asleep in my living room chair. Eager to study the man who fascinates me on so many levels, I slowly sit up.
Of course, he has that creepy Terminator thing going on, because the instant I do, his eyes flash open, zeroing right in on me.
His voice is husky with sleep, but his gaze is alert as it sweeps over me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” A sudden onslaught of insecurity hits me, and I avert my eyes from his probing ones. Running my hands over my hair, I’m surprised it’s not a complete rat’s nest. “I’m okay.”
Shit, this is awkward. It’s all my fault, because I’m the idiot who passed out on a city bus and made him resort to carrying me home. Evidently, he also felt the need to babysit me through the night.
Like I said, awkward.
He drops his feet from the table. “I gotta head out and get cleaned up.” Rising from the chair, he rolls his shoulders before pushing my table back where it’d been. “I’ll be back.”
Without another word, he disappears from view. The faint rustling sound of him putting on his boots drifts through my doorway, shortly followed by him pulling my door closed behind him. Silence blankets everything in his absence, as if I somehow imagined his presence.
The leather chair’s indentation from his body serves as the only proof that he was actually here.
I slump back against the bed and stare up at the ceiling once again. “He’s coming back.” My whispered words hold more anticipation than I’d care to admit, but no one’s here to witness it.
Nor the slight smile that teases my lips.
* * *
I don’t exactly weigh the equivalent of a feather, so I’m resigned to the fact that I do actually owe Daniel for carrying my ass all the way home yesterday.
Plus, he brought me lunch and has been hanging around since. But not in his usual arrogant I’m doin’ what I wanna do kind of way. He’d asked if he could use my Wi-Fi so he could “do some catchin’ up on things.”