Well Played (Well Met #2)(58)

He hazarded one glance over his shoulder, a skeptical look on his face. “Of course I’m sure. You think I’d leave you stranded?”

No. If there was one thing I knew for sure about Daniel, he wouldn’t leave me stranded.



* * *



? ? ?

“It’s just up ahead.” I leaned forward in the passenger seat of Daniel’s pickup as he navigated us through the rain and onto my street. “Third house on the left. With the light on.”

“Got it.” He swung into my driveway. “Wow. I have to say I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” I looked at the rain-soaked driveway, then back at him again.

“Yeah.” He pulled to a stop and for a moment we both sat there, windshield wipers throwing rain from one side of the windshield to the other, staring at my parents’ completely unimpressive house. “I had no idea receptionists in dental offices made so much. That’s a pretty nice house you’ve got there.”

“What?” My laugh echoed in the cab of his truck, louder than I’d intended it to be. “No. No, this isn’t my house. You know that.”

“What?” He turned in his seat to look at me. “You said third house on the left. This isn’t your house?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean . . .” I huffed. “I don’t live in there.” I pointed to the side of the garage, to the stairs that led to the door of my apartment. “I live up there. You knew that. From my emails.” Hadn’t I explained my whole apartment-over-the-garage situation to him?

“Up those rickety stairs? No. You’re not going up those stairs in the rain.”

I clucked my tongue and unfastened my seatbelt. “Oh, yes, I am. I do it all the time.”

“Not in those little shoes, you don’t. You’re going to slip.”

“I’m not going to slip.” He was right, but there was no way I’d admit it. The wood plank stairs were soaking wet by now, and these sandals had no tread on the bottoms. I could absolutely break my neck trying to prove him wrong.

“Come on.” He unclicked his own seatbelt and turned off the truck. The windshield wipers slammed to a halt and the truck cab filled up with silence from the sudden lack of engine noise. “I’ll help you up the stairs.”

I scoffed. “What are you going to do, fireman-carry me up there? You’ll get a hernia and we’ll both fall.”

He sighed a long-suffering sigh. We really hadn’t been together long enough for him to be this annoyed with me. “No, but I can walk behind you and make sure you don’t slip.”

I sighed in response and peered up toward my door. So close and yet so far. I’d hoped that while we were bickering the rain would stop, but no such luck. Water covered the windshield now, blurring the streetlights. Lightning lit up the sky, closely followed by a crack of thunder.

“Storm’s getting worse.” Daniel didn’t sound accusatory; he was just making an observation. But I frowned anyway.

“Okay.” I took a fortifying breath. “Let’s do this.” Another deep breath, and I threw open the door to his truck and darted out into the storm. I shrieked as the cold water pelted down on me, and as I ran to the stairs I heard Daniel’s startled shout as he followed me, getting just as wet as I was. And sure enough, on the third step up my foot slipped out from under me on the wet wood. A squeak erupted from my mouth as I started to fall, but Daniel was there. He caught me with his hands on my hips, steadying me until I had a good grasp on the handrail, and then we both pounded up the stairs. I dug for my keys and the rain fell harder just to spite me.

“Fine, you were right!” I shouted to be heard above the storm as I fished my keys out of my pocket. “I would have fallen on the stairs!”

“I can gloat later!” he yelled back. “Open the door!”

I turned the key in the lock and pushed, and we practically fell into my apartment like something out of a French farce. He slammed the door behind us, and the noise of the hard-falling rain was cut off like a switch had been thrown. For a few moments all I could hear was our breath, hard and a little labored from our mad dash up the stairs. I turned around, raking my disheveled hair out of my eyes, and looked up at Daniel, leaning back against my door. He was so tall in this tiny space, but it wasn’t an imposing presence. He was a mess, soaking wet, looking as bedraggled as I felt, and a helpless laugh bubbled out of me. He joined in almost immediately, his laugh more a loud rush of breath, and as it died out I noticed the rain was coming down even harder, the water pinging off the skylights above us. Another noise too: a faint chirrup from the vicinity of the couch.

“Oh.” Daniel pushed his hair out of his eyes, raking it straight back before taking a step forward. “This must be Benedick. Your true love.” He reached out his other hand, but Benedick looked at him with startled eyes before zipping away toward the bathroom.

I tried not to laugh at the hurt in his eyes when he looked back at me. “That’s right. I forgot you’re not a cat person.”

“I never said that. I said I’ve never had one. There’s a difference.”

“Well, it shows.” But I kept my voice kind. “Cats startle pretty easily. He doesn’t know you, and with you looming over him like that—”