Angel Falling (Falling #1)(16)
London’s fingers slid all over my face, her eyes assessing me rapidly, looking for any nuance, anything out of the norm. They landed on my shirt and her fingers tugged at the blouse that covered the ugly bruise, the only remnants that I was in an accident at all.
Her hand went to her lips at the sight of the black and purplish mark, her mouth opened into a gasp, tears filling her eyes like a water balloon that had been overfilled. “Oh. My. God. Aspen, you were hurt.” The tears fell down her face and she pulled me into a tight hug. I soothed my hands up and down her back letting her connect with me, giving her time to realize I was here and just fine. Her history with accidents didn’t have a happy ending like mine.
“I’m fine. A man jumped in front of me. He saved my life, but not without paying a price. He’s in the hospital now and I need to get to him.”
“Oh my, yes of course. Is he okay?” She still held my biceps and smoothed her hands up and down my arms.
“He received the brunt of the damage. A pipe pierced through is shoulder when he tackled me. He saved my life.” The enormity of the situation, hearing my voice tell her what happened shot more anxiety through me. I needed to get to Hank. Confirm once more that he was okay.
“What’s his prognosis?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“He’s going to be fine. A lot of therapy, weeks of heal time. I’m moving him into the penthouse so he can receive round the clock care. Least I could do considering.” I tried to pull away but she embraced me once more.
“Pen, if I’d lost you too, I don’t know what … I couldn’t bear it. I just … ”
I hugged her tight, enjoying her warmth and love. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. But, I really do need to get to the hospital. He’s waiting for me.”
She nodded against my shoulder, then stopped abruptly and pulled back. Her pointed gaze searched mine. She tilted her head, her eyes widened and her mouth split into a huge smile.
“Holy shit, Pen. You’re falling for this guy!”
The comment threw me back as if someone had just socked me. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not falling in love. Your cuckoo radar is off. You need to adjust the setting again.”
God I was so tired of this thing she had with empathy. This unearthly ability to feel what others were feeling. It really was freaky and generally dead on target. Ability or not, I wasn’t falling for Hank. I’d barely just met the man. What she was feeling was not love it was fear. Fear that he wouldn’t get better. Guilt that it was my fault he was hurt in the first place.
She shook her head. Her once teary eyes alight with pure joy. “I can feel it. The desire in you. It’s thrumming around your body like a soft halo of light. Who is he?”
No, no, no. When London got an idea in her head, she committed to it one hundred percent. She claimed to have this empathic ability and lived her life by it. I’ll concede that she was more often right than wrong but really besides the fear and guilt what I felt for Hank was not complicated. She was alluding to the idea that my desire for Hank was something more, something likened to love, perhaps. It wasn’t. Unless one mistakes pure unadulterated lust for the hearts and flowers thing of love. If I was being honest with myself I felt things for Hank, deep things, but all of them revolved around us being tangled together naked on the nearest bed.
“London, I’m not in love. Don’t even go there. Please, please don’t worry about this. I’m fine. Hank’s going to be fine … ”
“Hank? Is that his name?” She smiled brightly. She was incredibly beautiful and had a way of getting what she wanted. People just spilled their guts to her. It was part of what made her so good at what she did with her clients, moving in with them for weeks, then deciding exactly what they needed to make their houses into a home. It was more than just interior design or decorating. She had a way of filling a void in her clients lives with whatever it is they needed to be happy and she’d made a very profitable career out of it.
“Okay, okay.” She waited patiently for me to answer. “I have a little bit of hero-worship. He’s incredibly attractive and we’ve shared a few kisses. Alright? End of story. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
She nodded. “Yes, you have to get back to Hank. Oh, this is so romantic.” She clasped her hands together and looked off into the distance dreamily. “He saves you from death, sweeps you off your feet and … ”
“Stop it right there. This is not a romance,” I sighed. The woman would piss off a priest in confessional.
“But you want to f*ck him; I can feel the lust running through every inch of you. It’s coming at me in waves. I might have to go get laid tonight just to get over the vibe you’re putting out into the universe.”
“Must you be so vulgar?”
“Yes. I must. Admit it and I’ll leave.” She crossed her arms over her tiny form.
I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, I want to have sex with him! It’s been months since Grant and I broke up. Happy now?”
She jumped up and down in her sandals, her flowery dress waving in the air with her. It was times like this that I remembered she was my baby sister. Top of her game in the interior design world with a waiting list a mile long for her skills, but she still bounced around like a little girl. Some things never changed.