Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(5)
“No you can’t.” I knocked it from her grip to prove it. The keys arced through the air, clattered onto the ground, then skipped across the concrete until they crashed into a heap against the base of a wrought iron lamppost.
“Hey!” She shoved out of my hold. “You don’t have to be mean about it.”
“I’m not being mean. They” —I pointed toward the end of the alley— “would have been mean.”
When she huffed away to retrieve her keyring, I rushed alongside her, then scooped it up before she had a chance. I shook out the jumbled keys, rubbed them over my jeans to dust them off, and handed them back.
With a fierce glare, she swiped them from me. Then she stormed ahead, back toward the street. I followed. But after two steps, she whirled around.
She propped her hands on her hips. “Why did you come back, anyway?”
Adorable didn’t begin to describe how she looked: dark hair tousled, pale skin flushed, full lips drawn down into the sexiest pout.
I walked closer.
She held her ground.
By the time I stood within reach, she’d half-turned toward her house. A nearby streetlight bathed her face in a golden glow. Her eyes narrowed. “Why did you come back?” she repeated, her voice just above a whisper.
Hope washed across her face a split second before those delectable lips twisted into a smirk.
I tugged her jacket free from my belt loop, then held it up. “You forgot this.”
Her hopeful expression fell. Then she snatched the fabric from my hand and stomped backward.
I strode toward her.
She paused, letting me.
A foot. Half a foot. Two inches. As I closed the distance, her head tilted back, gaze locked with mine.
“What are you doing?” Her voice went breathless.
“Don’t know.” Mine grew ragged.
Something unnamable drew me to her. Seconds later, the reason hit me. Being near her quieted all the racket in my head. Until I didn’t even hear the never-ending rhythm. And all I saw was her.
My world narrowed to the pulse at the hollow of her neck, her throat as she swallowed.
Her gaze lowered to my mouth. Those luscious lips parted.
Then she stared into my eyes, lashes fluttering. “When will you know?”
Good question. And as I stood there, seconds ticking by as we both breathed harder and harder, no answer came.
Her eyes began to widen, like the electric thing buzzing between us surprised her too.
Frustrated and tired, I grabbed her hand and led her back to her front porch.
“You’re going inside your house. Safe and sound. I’m going home.”
She didn’t resist. Or say another word.
Maybe we didn’t have to. Too much had already been exposed in what hadn’t been said.
In the twenty minutes it took to drive home, I’d cleared my head. Mostly. Windows down, cold air whipped through the cab while I’d lectured myself on all the reasons taking Kiki up on her offer was the last thing I needed.
Once I pulled into my short driveway, put the truck in park, and cut the engine, I’d wiped all thoughts from my brain about what I couldn’t have. Easy to do. Been doing it long enough.
A stereo blasted from inside as I stuck my key into the dead bolt.
I stepped in, slammed the door, and threw the bolt. Then I slid the chain across.
No change in the haunting alternative rock that vibrated our plaster ceiling.
The only light in the room was the one I’d left on above the stove. I dropped my keys onto the counter, crossed to the foot of the stairs, and stared up toward the dark second-floor hall.
“Lo?” I shouted loud enough to wake the neighbors…across the street.
The only response? The music turned up a couple more decibels.
I dropped my gaze, stared at the worn edge of the bottom step. The caring half of me wanted to pound on her door, check on her. The smart half knew better.
With a headshake and a heavy sigh, I retreated to the safety of the kitchen. I popped open the fridge, grabbed a beer, then went to the living room and dropped onto our threadbare couch. Tired to the bone, I closed my eyes. Then I guzzled down the bottle, absorbing the chill of the liquid along with the soulful music.
I accepted my situation. The girl upstairs? What I’d signed up for.
She was the reason I couldn’t take Kiki up on her offer, wouldn’t take something for myself.
Because apparently I didn’t get to have happiness.
A part of me wondered if I had any left to give.
As I sank into sleep, thoughts of Kiki flowed in: the confident girl in the alley hell-bent on proving she could take care of herself, that glint of hope in her eye.
Kiki…
A scratching sound permeated my brain.
“Wha—” The word strangled in my dry throat, then died.
My eyelids were glued shut. I blinked down hard, twice, before they opened.
Bright white assaulted my eyes. Lots and lots of white…
Disoriented, I pushed upright. On a white slipcovered couch.
“Oh.” I’d never made it past the living room.
Fuzzy memories sharpened by small degrees as my gaze wandered over the pristine snowy rug, then up pale maple shelves to linger on a stack of books with pastel-colored spines. Yet despite the innocence of my surroundings, my mind gravitated toward the debauched thoughts I’d had last night.