Page 28 of Resisting Mr Black
The smell of toast fills my nostrils as I walk into the kitchen, and I’m relieved that my stomach doesn’t turn at the smell of food.
I slide onto one of the black kitchen stools and Art places a plate of hot buttered toast and a mug of dark coffee in front of me.
“I took a guess that you don’t take sugar.”
“No, I don’t.” I take a big gulp of coffee as he leans forward on the counter and turns his attention back to the news on the TV. I suddenly feel awkward for everything he’s done. “Thank you. For last night and looking after me, and this.”
His dark eyes hold mine as his lips twitch into a smile, then no soon does it appears it’s gone. “Don’t go into that club again. It’s a dive. And don’t drink so much when you go out. It makes you easy prey.”
I shift uncomfortably on the stool at the telling-off he’s subjecting me to. But I know he’s right.
“So, if the club is a dive, why were you there?”
He turns his attention back to the TV, avoiding my gaze. “I was in the area. I know the managers of some of the clubs in town. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
I’m not sure I buy his excuse but go with it because I don’t need to know any more about the club. I remember what happened there. It’s the events of the night after we left that are a bit blurry. “What happened after we left?”
“Lucy went home, and I put you in my car and brought you back here.”
I take a bite of toast. There’s something niggling away at the back of my mind and I can’t quite explain it. “Was there anything else? Did we talk?”
“You don’t remember what you said, do you?”
The question fills my heart with dread and wipes out my appetite. I drop the toast on the plate, my mind frantically turning over, desperately trying to remember what I said. No doubt it was something incredibly embarrassing. The look on my face must say it all because he tilts his head to the left and smiles as he watches my obvious struggle.
“You asked me if I was your guardian angel, which I thought was quite sweet. Then you said you needed to stay away from me because I’m dangerous, which I thought was intriguing, then you asked me if I was into S & M, which I thought was quite funny.”
I want the floor to open and swallow me up whole as the mortifying final piece of the previous evening slots into place. I remember him carrying me from the car. How it felt so good in his arms. How he put me to bed. How he made me feel so safe.
Shit!
He’s watching me closely. The smile has gone, and he’s waiting for me to justify myself.
I grab my mug and take a long drink of coffee to buy myself some time to come up with a decent explanation.
“I was drunk,” is the best that I can manage. I place the mug down and hope he’ll let it go. “I always talk rubbish when I’m drunk. Just forget what I said.”
“There’s a saying. The drunken mind speaks the sober heart.”
I pick up the half-chewed slice of toast. “I’m never drinking again. You’ve got the right idea about not touching the stuff. Do you not drink out of choice or—” I trail off, realising my attempt to change the conversation might have caused me to put my foot in it.
“Or… am I an alcoholic?”
“Erm… well.”
“No, I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t like the man I become when I drink.” He pushes himself off the counter and frowns. “Why do you think I’m dangerous?”
I look out of the window to the high-rise flats and office blocks far away in the distance across the river. I can’t admit it’s because I think I could fall hard for him, and he’d break my heart into a million tiny pieces when he dropped me and moved onto the next adoring female. But I’m stuck because my brain’s still not on top form yet and can’t think of a viable explanation to give, that doesn’t make me sound like a silly schoolgirl.
“I don’t want to get hurt,” I admit.
The crease line in his brow disappears. “I won’t hurt you,” he says softly. “And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.”
I want to believe him, but there’s darkness to this man that I’ve never known before and it leaves me exhilarated and scared all at once.
Suddenly his phone rings from the other side of the counter and I see Tara’s name flash on the screen before he cancels the call with a frown.
“Come on, we should head into work.” He looks at me. “I’ll give you a lift, you’re in no fit state to drive. We can talk S & M in the car.”