Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(23)

After some unknown stretch of time, the others curled up on the floor to sleep. Roy’s head lolled on his chest. Tanya and Sylvie were together, the older woman comforting the younger. To my left, Carol snored gently, Amita curled up beside her. Beside them, Gil was sleeping with his head on his knees.

“You want to try to get some sleep too?” I tapped my left shoulder. “Be my guest.”

Alex nodded and laid her head on my shoulder. “What about you? Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, relishing the weight of her against me.

“Yes,” Alex said sleepily, nestling closer. “Yes, you are.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she said, fading. “But it’s true anyway. A good man.”

I treasured the words but wanted to tell her they weren’t true. If I were a good man, would I spend my time thinking thoughts about her I had no business thinking? I wanted to touch her and kiss her and put my hands on her body, even here, of all places. I hated her fiancé for simply existing. And worst of all, part of me wanted to stay in the bank, surrounded by death and danger, if it meant I could keep seeing her, keep talking to her.

Nothing good about that.





Chapter Nine


Alex



Gunshots.

Screams.

I jerked awake, certain I had heard both. But the tiny meeting room was dark, quiet. But for the distant whir of a helicopter circling above the bank, one would be hard-pressed to believe we were in the midst of a robbery. The other hostages slept fitfully.

I lay back down and heard a thump-thump, thump-thump in my ear. I had fallen sleep with my head against Cory’s shoulder and had woken to find myself huddled against his chest. His arm was slung around me, holding me.

I nearly extricated myself but changed my mind. I’m marrying Drew, but I have to survive this first.

A snide voice spoke up in my mind. Good one, counselor. No jury in the world would convict you.

I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that could silence a voice in my mind—one that sounded suspiciously like Lilah. It was true anyway. I felt safe with Cory and the fact that I was engaged to someone else didn’t do a thing to change that. Not in here.

Even so, guilt tried to creep under my skin to ruin my rest. Drew was not here. Not in the bank and not even in my thoughts. When Cory had asked why I’d been about to cry, the answer was too painful, too embarrassing, too confusing. Because I wasn’t thinking about Drew at all. And shouldn’t I be? Shouldn’t he be occupying my every thought? Shouldn’t I be yearning to get back to him? To be held and loved by him?

I felt wrung out, tired of the extreme highs of terror followed by extreme lows of boredom, interspersed with conversations with Cory that left me thrilled and guilty at the same time. It was a tedious roller coaster and I wanted to get off.

And never see Cory again?

I didn’t want to think about that just then and I definitely didn’t want to acknowledge the faint pang of loss that echoed in my heart for it.

I snuggled closer to Cory and felt an answering tightening of his arm around my shoulders. The top of my head fit perfectly under his chin and the steady pulse of his heart was reassuring.

I started to drift off again, but Cory shifted.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “Am I keeping you awake?”

“No. Well, yes,” he whispered back. “But it’s a good thing.”

“What do you mean?”

His chest expanded under my cheek as he heaved a sigh. “This isn’t the time and it sure as hell isn’t the place, but…it’s kind of nice to hold you like this. It’s been awhile, is all.”

“I know what you mean.” I know exactly what you mean.

“Georgia…she isn’t one for physical affection. Doesn’t like to be touched or held.”

“But you do.” I shifted so I could see his face better as we talked, and my view was of his profile, his jaw and cheek, which had a two-day growth of stubble. I realized it had been ages since I’d been this close to a man, to smell his scents, to feel the warmth of his skin. All of Cory’s aura or presence enveloped me in something so foreign from Drew. A different kind of masculinity that brought to mind salty ocean air and warm sand instead of sterile offices and air conditioning.

“Yeah, I do.” Cory laughed, a low, sexy grumble that started deep in his chest. “Yeah, I’m a sap, I guess. I like the whole bit: handholding, cuddling—”

“Cuddling?” I teased.

“Yep. Don’t get me wrong, I like the other stuff too…The stuff that comes before cuddling. I like that a lot,” he laughed sheepishly. “I don’t know, it goes back to the marriage stuff. The partnership. I ran around a lot when I was younger and I guess I got it out of my system. Or maybe Callie settled me down. Either way…” He shrugged. “Like I said, I’m a sap. For all of it.”

“Me too,” I began then stopped. “Or at least, I think I would be. Drew and I are so busy. We hardly ever go anywhere that’s not work-related, and…”

He didn’t push me, but waited silently for me to continue or not. I chose not.

“Anyway,” I said, “nothing wrong with being a sap. It’s sweet.”