“Right,” she whispers slowly. “We don’t talk about personal stuff. Forget I asked.”
I grit my teeth and turn to her. “It’s not that I don’t want to share stuff with you. I’d actually like to get to know you better. You’re a cool chick, but … there’s some stuff I won’t talk about with anyone.”
“So you definitely won’t talk about it with me,” she finishes.
“It’s not about you.” I look straight out through the windshield. “Some things are too painful. You know what I mean?” I glance at her.
She presses her lips together, her eyes sad and distant. “Yeah, I know.” She whispers the words painfully with raw emotion.
We finish our shakes in silence, but not uncomfortable silence, before I back out and drive across to Wal-Mart.
“Stay in here where it’s warm,” I tell her when she reaches for her seatbelt. “I’ll get the supplies.”
“Are you going to battle?”
I give her a duh look. “Um … yeah. I’m battling your nasty germs. I don’t want to catch what you have.”
I hop out of the truck before she can give me one of her sassy retorts and hurry into the store and out of the frigid air.
I grab a cart—I’m going to need it—and slowly begin my trek through the store since I have no clue where anything is and asking for directions is for pussies.
I stumble across some kind of weird looking animal thing that looks like a giraffe, or maybe a bear, but has lavender and can be warmed in the microwave so I toss it into the cart.
Near that are bath salts for soaking and I grab one with eucalyptus scent. I feel like I remember my mom saying eucalyptus was good for a cold, but I could be wrong.
Eventually I find the appliances and add a teapot to the cart.
When I reach the food aisle I grab Oreos because I know those are her favorite—they’re always in her cabinet—and find the tea bags. I also grab some orange juice. My mom swore the acid in the orange juice could burn away any illness.
Heading back to the healthcare aisle I scour the vitamins for ones I know my mom said were good when you’re sick. I dump a few in the cart and then head for the home stuff.
I finally spot a fluffy green blanket and get it as well. I know Kira has blankets, but who doesn’t like to get new soft blankets? Blankets are the dopest shit ever.
Going over the items I’ve tossed in the cart I’ve decided there’s only one more thing I need.
I head to the DVDs, and after fifteen minutes of looking I find what I want.
Pushing the cart to the checkout my phone buzzes in my coat pocket.
I pull it out and chuckle.
Kira: You’ve been in the fucking store for over an hour. Do I need to strip to get you to come back? If a nipple is free somewhere you’re bound to appear.
Me: I mean … if you’re offering, a nip slip is fine by me.
Kira: Did you get lost in there?
Me: I’m a very thorough shopper.
Kira: Just hurry up. My sinuses hurt and I want to go home.
Me: I’m heading to the checkout now. Chill.
Kira: Tick. Tock. Motherfucker.
I shake my head and tuck my phone away.
Luckily there’s an empty checkout lane so I begin unloading everything.
The woman scanning it though … pretty sure she could go down in history as the slowest person on the planet.
Somehow I manage to smile and grit my teeth as she takes a full minute to scan almost every item.
I swipe my card—no way in hell am I giving her cash to count—and my receipt prints out. I grab it from her, getting out of there as fast I can.
I wheel the cart to my truck and unload everything in the back behind my seat. Kira peers around to see all the bags, her jaw dropped.
“Did you buy everything in the store?”
I lift my shoulders slightly. “Close to it. But I did get you Oreos.”
She presses the back of her hand to her forehead and pretends to swoon. “My hero.”
I close the door and return the cart—I’m not about to be a jerk and leave it in the lot to hit someone’s car. I jog carefully back to my truck, not wanting to risk taking another spill.
Thankfully, as I get inside the truck heat blasts out of the vents.
“I’m so glad I’m off tomorrow. There’s no way I’d be up for working,” she says, wiping her nose on a napkin I had stuffed in the glove compartment.
“Yeah,” I pipe in, “I’m pretty sure no one would appreciate you getting your nose boogers all over their food.”
“Rush,” she groans like she’s had enough of my shit.
“What?” I bat my eyes innocently at her before backing out. “You know it’s true. You might be hot, but there’s nothing remotely sexy about boogers and food mixed together.”
She gags. “You’re making the nausea come back. If I throw up in here, know it’s your fault.”
A laugh bubbles out of my throat. “You know, I threw up in Hayes’s Range Rover our first night here. We flew into D.C. and had a hotel to stay there for the night so we wouldn’t have to make the trip all the way out here with getting in late. We went out to a club and I … well, I got us busted by Hayes since I posted where we were on Snapchat and things might’ve been a tad crazy.”
“A tad?” she says doubtfully.
“Okay, more than a tad crazy,” I relent. “I was totally wasted and threw up in his car. Got it all over Cannon’s jeans too.”
She snorts and wipes her nose again. “Bet he loved that.”
“He might’ve threatened to kill me.”
She stifles a yawn. “I hate feeling icky.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I ask, turning onto the main road. “But don’t worry, Dr. Daniels will fix you right up.”
“Sounds kinky,” she laughs.
“Hey, if you’re into role-playing, I’m game. Can I be a dashing pirate and you be the damsel in distress?”
“Let me guess, you save me with your cock?”
“It’s not a cock in this role-play. It’s my mighty, gargantuan sword. Get it right, Kira.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry I didn’t think of that.”
“Apology accepted.” I grin at her.
We arrive at her place and she hurries inside where it’s warm while I manage to gather up all the shit I bought. Two trips is for pussies. Anyone with brains knows you figure out a way to get all the bags inside in one trip, even if you have to carry one on your head and stuff something down your pants.
Not that I’ve ever done either before.
I bump my shoulder against Kira’s door since I don’t have hands to knock with and a moment later she swings the door open.
“Rush, this is nice and all, and I appreciate you getting this stuff, but it’s after midnight. I’m exhausted and going to bed.”
“Nope, not yet. First you’re going to take a bath,” I declare, setting the bags down and rifling through them. “With these.”
I hold up the bag of salts proudly.
“And this is supposed to heal me?” She narrows her eyes.
“No, it’ll help with your breathing. Along with this.” I hold up a bottle of Vick’s I grabbed while I was looking for vitamins.
“Rush, I really just want—”
I brush past her and into her bathroom. I start running her a warm bath as she stands in the doorway.
“You’ll thank me later.” My voice softening I say, “Please, just let me take care of you.”
“Why?” she demands to know.
I swallow thickly. “Because I want to.”
Her face loses its pinched and irritated look. “Okay, but I really am sleepy.”
“You’ll go to bed soon enough. Now get naked.”
She laughs outright. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said those words to me and it’s not leading to sex.”
“It was bound to happen eventually.” I shrug and pass her to grab the salts.
I return and find he
r removing her clothes.
I pause, watching as her back is exposed. It has this delicious dip in it that I love running my tongue against. God, she’s beautiful, and while she knows it to an extent, she’s not truly aware of how captivating she is.
The way she gets under my skin isn’t like anyone else.
She’s in a league of her own.
She peers at me over her shoulder, smiling slightly.
“Like what you see?”
I let out a gruff laugh. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Kira.”
She removes the rest of her clothes and sinks down into the water with a sigh. She grabs her bubble bath and dumps a generous dollop into the water.
I open the bag of bath salts and scoop two handfuls in.
She draws her knees to her chest and blinks up at me with her large, doll-like, eyes.
“Thank you … for doing this. You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
She swallows thickly. “I know.”
Clearing my throat I mutter, “I’ll … uh … go start the tea.”
I don’t know why I suddenly feel so awkward. I guess, maybe, admitting that I want to help her, that I want to be around her, is difficult and strange. Beyond Cannon, Hollis, Fox, and their families I haven’t allowed myself to get attached to anyone else.
The more people you love, the bigger of a chance you’ll end up hurt.
Not that I love Kira, I don’t, but … I like her. She’s become a constant the last few months and now it’s strange to think of life without her. Even the short time we were back in L.A. in December it was odd not seeing her.
With a shake of my head I force those thoughts from my mind and make her tea.
When the water is hot enough I add the bag of ginger tea and a smidge of honey. I don’t know if I’m supposed to do that, but I figure it can’t hurt.
I carry it into the bathroom and sit down on the closed toilet lid beside the tub.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She wraps her long fingers around the mug I found in her cabinet.
The mug, comically, says ‘I don’t spew profanities. I enunciate them clearly, like a fucking lady.’
It’s the most Kira-ish mug that can possibly exist.
“You can go,” she tells me with a shoo of her hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“Nope.” I shake my head adamantly. “Dr. Daniels is not abandoning his post yet.”
She gives a small laugh that turns into a cough. She groans loudly. “Fuck this cold. Also, can you please stop referring to yourself in third person? It’s weird.”
“No can do. Dr. Daniels likes third person. He also likes threesomes.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, come on, laugh. Tell me you’ve never thought about having a threesome before.”
She bites her lip. “I’ll admit … I’ve wondered what it would be like to be with two guys at once.”
“You want to be worshipped, huh, Kira? Lucky for you, you have me,” I press a hand to my chest, “and I’m plenty enough for two guys.”
She sips her tea. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I frown.
“I’m kidding.” She slaps my knee, leaving behind a wet mark on my jeans. “I definitely don’t think I could handle you and another guy.”
“I’m a handful,” I agree.
“You’re … something.”
She finishes her tea and hands me the mug.
She gives a slight shiver and I set the mug on the counter. “Come on, get out before you get chilled.”
I grab a towel off the back of the bathroom door and hold it out for her to step into. She does and I wrap it around her.
“Oh, look. I made a Kira burrito.” I kiss her and she makes a face.
“Don’t kiss me. I’m germy.”
“Kira, I’ve already been all over you for days, weeks, months. If I was going to catch this cold, I would’ve gotten sick already.”
She sighs heavily. “I guess you’re right. Now, let me through so I can put my pajamas on.”
I step aside and she brushes by me and into her bedroom.
I let the water out of the bathtub and carry her mug to the sink, rinsing it out.
Taking everything else out of the plastic shopping bags I put it away and make sure everything is left in decent order. If I don’t, she’ll have my head and I like both of mine too much to let anything happen, thank you very much.
In her room I find her pulling back the covers and climbing beneath them.
“Thanks, Rush,” she says, her tone implying I’ve been dismissed.
“Sure thing,” I say with a forced smile. “I’ll check on you later.”
She nods and I ease her door closed behind me.
I go to the main door, open it and close it so she’ll hear.
I click the lock in place from the inside.
No way am I leaving her here alone, sick, to tend to herself.
Nope, if she needs me, I’m going to be here.
I grab a pillow and blanket, creating a makeshift bed on her couch.
At my height I have no choice but for my legs to hang off the couch and it’s hardly comfortable, but I don’t care.
All that matters is that she’s okay.
5
Kira
My stomach rolls violently, and I burst upright from my sleep as I feel bile rise in my throat. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I topple out of bed running for the bathroom. It has to be early, because the sun is barely beginning to filter in my windows. I would’ve loved more sleep, but no, fate has other plans for me.
Dropping to my knees I manage to get the lid up on the toilet in time to empty the contents of my stomach. I don’t ever remember having a cold where I actually threw up. When I’m done, I sit back on the cold tile, my body damp with perspiration.
My stomach rolls again and I lurch toward the toilet.
I jerk when I feel fingers pulling my hair back.
“I’m here. It’s okay,” Rush’s warm voice speaks softly as he crouches down beside me.
After I’m done, I wrench away from him, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.
“What are you doing here? Y-You … I heard you leave. I don’t want you seeing me like this.”
“I pretended to leave,” he admits, resting on his knees in front of me, still in his jeans. “I didn’t feel right leaving you here alone and sick.”
“Rush,” I say softly, almost irritated, but also in a sort of awe. “You are the most confusing man I’ve ever met.”
He cracks a grin. “What does that mean?”
“You don’t want a relationship—to be anyone’s boyfriend, but here you are doing boyfriend things. Can’t you see how weird this is?” I flick a finger from me to him.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, which only grates on my nerves more. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”
“Why me?” I ask, hating the way my voice cracks and spikes to a higher pitch.
His long fingers splay over his thighs. “I … don’t … know.” His answer is honest and I can tell even he’s baffled by his behavior. “I guess when you care about someone you don’t like to see them hurting, especially when you can help.”
“Seriously, Rush. Go back to your hotel. You’ll be more comfortable. I’m fine here. I’ve been taking care of myself practically since I was born. Why stop now?”
“Because you have me,” he replies softly, sounding hurt.
I shake my head. I have a pounding headache and no brain power to deal with this confusing ass man.
I stand up, and Rush holds out his hand to help me but I refuse—not because I don’t need his help but I wiped my throw up across my hand and that’s just nasty.
I wash my hands thoroughly before brushing my teeth and swishing some mouthwash back and forth.
I spit it out, watching the blue liquid and white suds disappear down the drain. Rush hovers behind me, his presence large and looming like a fucking wal
l.
There’s no point in telling him to leave again, because I know he won’t. He’s as stubborn as I am when he’s convinced of something, and obviously he thinks here is where he belongs.
“Are you going back to bed?” he asks quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.
I ignore his probing gaze in the mirror. “No.” I dampen a cloth with cool water and pat my face with it.
“Hungry?” he inquires with a tilt of his head. “I could make you some toast.”
“You’re going to make me toast?” I glance over my shoulder at him in disbelief and he chuckles, rolling his eyes.
“I might not be able to cook, but I think I can at least manage to make toast, not burn it, and smear some butter on it.”
“Some toast might actually be okay,” I admit. The sickness seems to be completely gone, and now that I’ve thrown up I feel pretty great—not well, but not as bad as I did. I’ll take it as a small win.
I dry my face off as he leaves the small bathroom to undoubtedly make my toast.
“Should I make tea too?” He calls out from my kitchen.
“Sure, why not.”
At least it’ll give him something to do and stop fussing over me.
He and his friends might call Cannon the mother hen of their group, but right now Rush is giving him a surprising run for his money. To say I’m shocked is an understatement. It’s weird and unnatural.
I turn the light off in the bathroom—Rush must’ve turned it on when he came in, because I know I didn’t—and pad into the living space.
I can’t help but smile at the pile of blankets and pillows on the couch.
Rush is a giant, I swear he’s nearly seven feet tall, and the thought of him sleeping all night on my teeny-tiny couch is amusing. He must have had to perform some contortions to fit on it at all.
I sit down and wrap one of the blankets around me.
“Did you bring this?” I ask, looking at the fluffy green blanket.
“I got it for you when I was in Wal-Mart yesterday, but I got cold in the night and needed it. I should’ve gotten myself a Huggle.”
“A Huggle?” I ask, not sure I’ve heard him right.
“Yeah, like a Snuggie, but better.”
“Okay,” I say, suppressing a laugh.
“I got a movie too—since you’re sick and can’t leave I’m forcing you to watch it with me.”
Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2) Page 6