Page 28 of Some Like It Hot
“I’ll bet not.”
She didn’t know why she said that—it just felt, well…she could see him. A restless kid buttoned up, his golden brown hair shaved, marching in rows to class, sitting perfectly at a desk, and in truth, it hurt a little.
He gave her a true, tiny grin. “Maybe not. But I behaved well enough for my dad to let me come home for my last two years of high school.”
“Right before he shipped out?”
“Yeah. Maybe so I could be with my mother—Beau was already at the Naval Academy by then.”
“Wow. All heroes in your family.”
“Except me. I’m nothing like my dad, or my brother.”
She shook her head. “Whatev—”
“Seriously. I’m not a hero, Larke. You called it. I’m reckless, I love anything that is hot and dangerous, from fire to…well, don’t be fooled. I’m not a good guy. I was totally going to sleep with you a couple nights ago, and that hasn’t left my head in the least.”
“But you didn’t.Wedidn’t. Because my head wasn’t in the right place, either.” Except. “Why didn’t you? You didn’t even try to put the moves on me.”
He was looking at her strangely, a tenderness sinking into his eyes a moment before he blinked it away. “I dunno. I guess I lost my game, like Tucker said.”
Hardly. But she didn’t want to suggest otherwise. Because he turned a little red and that only made him more… Aw, there he went again, wheedling into her heart.
Especially when he cut his voice low, his eyes still on hers. Devastating. “Or, maybe I realized that I wanted something more than just a night with you.”
Her throat tightened. She got up, rubbed her hands on her pants. “Yeah, well…I think…um…”
A beat. Then he smiled. “Calm down, Larke. I’m just saying I’m glad we didn’t.” He didn’t add ayet. Or a wink or anything to suggest something more.
“Oh. Uh, me too.”
“But I wouldn’t turn down a kiss.”
There he was, the charmer she couldn’t stop following.
Would probably still follow. Right into trouble, danger, and heartbreak.
“I should go.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Or, you could stay. I might go into cardiac arrest. I need a good medic.”
“Cardiac arrest—from a dislocated shoulder?”
“And broken clavicle. Don’t forget.” He was scooting over in the bed, patting the empty space. “It’s late. And listen, nothing exciting is going to happen. I’m on drugs. And I hurt everywhere.”
“You’re on morphine.”
“I still hurt.”
For some reason, she didn’t think he was kidding.
Even when he added, “But it would make me feel much better if I knew I was under your medical care.” His mouth tweaked up on one side.
“So, this is your best game?”
“I mentioned the drugs part. I could try harder.”
“No, it’s working,” she said softly and slid onto the bed beside him, on top of the covers. But he was warm and strong and put his arm around her as she settled her head on his unhurt shoulder.