by Roni Loren
Their late night. Jesus. The reality of that rushed over her. She’d fallen asleep with a stranger in her house. A guy had slept over. “You stayed the night.”
He scrubbed a hand over his bearded jaw. “Yeah, sorry about that. You nodded off, and I didn’t want to wake you, but I also didn’t want to leave without telling you. I guess I fell asleep eventually, too. My night-shift muscles must’ve atrophied. I used to be able to pull all-nighters with no problem.”
She tugged her afghan around her shoulders, chilled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you here all night.”
His lips lifted at the corner. “It’s fine. I wish it hadn’t been under these circumstances, but I enjoyed hanging out. Plus, I got a fake girlfriend out of it.”
A little laugh slipped out at that. Girlfriend. The word being directed at her sounded both foreign to her ear and enticing in his voice. “Should we take a pic together with our bedheads so you can put it on your Facebook? Because dollars to doughnuts your ex still follows you there.”
“Nah. We’re good.”
She shifted on the couch. “Did I dream that you agreed to do a few podcast episodes with me?”
He gave her a don’t-try-it look. “I agreed to watch horror movies with you and to bring snacks. That is the extent of our contract.”
“Right, right, right,” she said, nodding firmly. “Of course.”
He touched his head gingerly again. “Well, I better get going. You need anything before I head out?”
“Let’s see, Chef. A three-egg cheese omelet with sliced tomatoes and sprinkle of chives on the side. A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Maybe some biscuits with fresh churned—”
He laughed and pushed up off the couch. “Goodbye, Andi.”
She stood, letting the afghan fall away. “Wait.”
He turned to her.
Before she could think better of it, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug. Hill froze for a moment, arms stiff by his sides, but then his muscles relented and he returned the embrace.
“Thank you for last night.” She squeezed him, finding the guy didn’t have any give. He was solid as a wall. “It was above and beyond.”
He cleared his throat and patted her back awkwardly. “It was no problem.”
She released him and stepped back, meeting his gaze. “No. You turned a horrible night into something much less horrible. If you hadn’t stayed, I’d have been a ball of anxiety all night and wouldn’t have slept a wink. So, thank you. Also, I appreciate you not murdering me in my sleep. Bonus points for that.”
He nodded once and tucked his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “You’re welcome. And I’ll let you know about the locks and the alarm,” he said, holding the eye contact. “I’ll make sure you feel safe tonight.”
The promise and the way he said it in that sleepy sex voice of his sent a hot shiver through her. Part of her hated discovering that one of her hell-yeah buttons was this alpha-male protective thing he did. She’d never been attracted to that before. Her crushes tended to be on artsy, laid-back types. But with Hill, that modern cowboy vibe did something to her.
She felt her cheeks and neck growing warm. “Thanks. And I’ll let you know what I choose for our first movie da—experiment.”
A little smile peeked through. “Looking forward to it.”
With that, he headed back over to his side, giving her a brief wave before he stepped through the door.
***
Hill walked inside his place with his head pounding and his cock half-hard, wondering what the fuck had just happened. All night, he’d kept himself in check with Andi. He could hang out with an attractive woman and not make it about attraction. But seeing Andi there in the morning sunlight, wearing his shorts, her skin flushing a pretty pink for whatever reason, he’d imagined an entirely different kind of night taking place.
What else would turn her skin rosy like that?
No. He didn’t need to let his brain go down that path. Andi had called what they were doing with the movies an experiment. Not a date. They were neighbors. He was her landlord. She was too young for him both in age and spirit. Plus, she’d straight up told him that she didn’t have guys sleep over. He didn’t understand exactly what she’d meant by that, but he understood enough. Ms. Andi Lockley wasn’t looking for sweaty sheet time with the neighbor. What she’d offered was an invitation to become friends. Buddies.
Of course that would be all she wanted from the “grumpy werewolf” with the disability and the cheating ex. He was kidding himself if he thought he’d sensed anything more than that between them. And what could he offer her anyway besides a good time or two in bed?
He was in no place to be someone’s boyfriend. Opening himself up to someone like he had with Christina was never going to happen again. It had taken so much to get to that point with her, to finally trust that love could be good, that it didn’t have to hurt or be dysfunctional like it had been between his parents. But he’d stupidly left himself without armor. Finding out about Christina and Josh had ripped through him like a chain saw. It’d hurt so much worse than losing part of his leg. It’d shredded every fairy tale he’d told himself, proving what he’d known from the start. Love was fucking dangerous. It was walking into a gunfight without a bulletproof vest.
The price was way too high.
He hoped to have sex again one day. But falling in love? They could fucking keep it.
Feeling clearheaded for the first time since Andi had banged on his door last night, Hill went to the kitchen to brew some coffee and then pulled out the ingredients to make a quiche. He needed something else to occupy his brain. He didn’t need to worry about how beautiful his neighbor was. He didn’t need to wonder what it’d be like to kiss her or touch her. All he needed to worry about was making sure she was safe. He couldn’t offer her much, but he could offer her that.
***
Andi set a venti cold brew on Eliza’s desk late that afternoon, her unspoken payment for a makeshift therapy session with her friend. Andi had stopped seeing her official therapist a year ago because she couldn’t afford it anymore. But when her friend Eliza, who rented space at WorkAround for her therapy practice, found out, she’d offered to be an unofficial sounding board for Andi. Not your therapist but an educated opinion.
“Ooh, thanks.” Eliza grabbed for the coffee with a smile. “I’m in desperate need of caffeine.”
“You and me both, sister.” Andi yawned and collapsed onto the giant red couch Eliza had found at an estate sale and just had to have. She’d called Andi, so excited about the find, and had asked her to help gather troops to move it into the office. When Andi had seen the overstuffed monstrosity, she’d thought it had to be the least therapy-like couch ever—too bright, too big, too much. But then she’d sat on it. The thing was like a hug in couch form. And though the dirt-cheap price Eliza had gotten it for meant someone had definitely been murdered on it, Andi didn’t care. That couch was magic.
Andi needed some magic today.
“So, hey,” Andi said flatly.
Eliza’s dark eyebrows lifted as she sipped her coffee. “That is the least Andi-like ‘hey’ ever.” Her brown eyes narrowed. “And you’re so pale I can see your freckles. What’s up, chica?”
Andi blew her bangs away from her eyes. “I’m pretty sure someone broke into my house last night.”
Eliza set her cup down, her lips parting. “Oh my God. Are you all right?”
“I’m not hurt,” Andi said, slipping off her flats and swinging her legs onto the couch. “I’m not exactly all right either.”
“Oh, honey,” Eliza said, tone gentle. “I’m so sorry. Did they take anything?”
“Besides my already-shitty sense of security?” Andi huffed. “No. Not that I can tell. The police think the door might’ve blown open, but I know I locked it. They’re
not going to gaslight me about it.”
Eliza nodded, frowning. “Good. Don’t let them. You know what your habits are.”
Andi rubbed her forehead, a vague headache lingering at the spot where she’d headbutted Hill this morning.
“So I’m guessing you didn’t get any sleep,” Eliza said, leaning back in her chair, her curtain of dark hair framing her concerned face. “You could’ve called me, you know. Stayed at my place.”
“I know. I would’ve, but my neighbor ending up staying with me,” she said, the image of Hill sitting next to her this morning coming back to her. “I ran over to his side of the house when I discovered the back door was open. He stayed after the cops left to help me calm down.”
“Wait. The retired firefighter?”
Andi pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “The very one. Though ‘retired’ doesn’t seem like the right word. He’s got a below-the-knee prosthesis from what I assume was an on-the-job incident. He was taken off duty.”
Eliza’s expression sparked with interest. “Oh. I was picturing an old guy.”
“Oh no. This guy is definitely not old. Probably around thirty. Could definitely pose shirtless in the firefighter calendar.”
“Oh.”
It was the kind of oh that meant tell me everything.
“He slept over.” The words fell out. Flat. Still slightly shocking even to her ear. She’d let a stranger sleep in her house.
Eliza blinked as if Andi had started speaking another language. “Wait, what? Holy shit, Andi—”
She lifted a hand. “Don’t get too excited. I don’t mean he slept in my bed or anything. I didn’t even sleep in my bed. It wasn’t some breakthrough. It was inadvertent. He offered to stay a while so I could calm down. We got to talking, and I eventually dozed off.”
Eliza took a slow sip of her coffee. “Wow. Inadvertent or not, that’s still a pretty big deal. You were able to let your guard down enough to fall asleep with him in the room.”
Andi shook her head, still searching for an explanation—like she’d been doing all day. “I think I was just exhausted.”
“I’m sure, but don’t you think you had to trust him on some level to even let yourself doze off?” she asked, that probing therapist tone entering her voice. “Normal Andi would’ve sent him out the door the minute she felt sleepy.”
Andi rubbed the bridge of her nose, her head pound, pound, pounding. “Yeah, I don’t know. Nothing about last night was normal. Hill seems really nice, but he’s also kind of hard to read. He’s quiet. But that kind of observant quiet where you can see he’s thinking all these things he’s not saying. He could have all kinds of secrets. He could have bodies in his freezer next to the ice cream for all I know. But…”
Eliza cocked her head a little. “But?”
“Ugh, I don’t know.” Andi blew out a frustrated breath. “He made me feel safe last night—which I guess, as a firefighter, is in his skill set. But it wasn’t that ‘We’ve got everything under control, ma’am’ thing. Instead, it was almost like he was wary of me instead of the other way around, and that’s what made me feel safe. Like when he offered to stay over, I got the vibe that he didn’t really want me to say yes.”
Eliza set her chin in her hand, her pondering face on. “Hmm, interesting. It wasn’t an attempt to be coy?”
Andi laughed at that. “Not even a little. I don’t think he’s interested in me like that. Honestly, I think I freak him out.”
“Really.” Eliza looked thoughtful. “Huh. What’s he look like?”
Andi gave her a sly smile. “If you were really my therapist, you wouldn’t ask that.”
“Good thing I’m not,” she said, giving a conspiratorial look. “So?”
Andi tipped her head back and examined a water spot on the ceiling. How to describe Hill? Normal words didn’t seem to fit but she tried. “He’s over six feet tall. Dark, shaggy hair. Brown eyes, maybe hazel, because there’s some green mixed in. In good shape.”
“Sounds like a police description,” Eliza said, clearly unimpressed. “Tell me what he looks like to you.”
Andi lifted her head and gave Eliza a pointed look. “Bearded, broad, probably prone to growling in bed.”
“Oh shit,” Eliza said with a laugh. “So he’s hot.”
“So hot. So not my type.” Andi sighed. “And I can’t tell if what I felt when I woke up this morning and saw him sitting next to me was a result of him making me feel safe last night or if it was something else. I was like…happy to see him there. What the hell is that?” She groaned. “Ugh, I can’t get a crush on a guy just because I think he’d be a good bodyguard. That’s so fucked up.”
Eliza considered her, expression neutral. “Is that such a bad quality to want in a partner? Someone who makes you feel safe?”
“It sounds like my trauma stuff getting twisted up and masquerading as attraction. And I’m not looking to hook up with someone. You know what will happen if I try anything.”
Eliza gave her an innocent look. “I do not know what will happen.”
“Come on. Don’t give me that.”
“No, I’m serious. You haven’t tried anything physical with anyone in what, three years? Just because it didn’t go well the last time doesn’t mean that’s how it will always go. Hill is a new person. You’re a different you than you were three years ago. Maybe the fact that he isn’t your normal type is a sign of progress. Your brain is willing to consider someone who physically could be a threat. Normally, you would’ve dismissed someone like that out of hand.”
Andi frowned, a new thought coming to her. “Oh hell, do you think I’m feeling this way because he’s got a disability? Like that’s some insurance policy? Because that is majorly fucked up and my subconscious needs to be put in time-out if that’s the case.”
Eliza gave her a ghost of a smile. “Do you think this guy is weak or incapable of physically overpowering you?”
Andi pictured Hill, that wall of muscle, the way he handled everything last night, the way he’d been ready to charge next door to see what was going on. “He could take me down in a hot second.”
Eliza pointed at her. “There you go. It’s not about his disability. If anything, I suspect it’s the opposite.”
Andi turned fully toward Eliza. “The opposite.”
“Yeah. He’s everything you’ve forbidden yourself to indulge in. He embodies your biggest fears—he could overpower you, could probably throw you over his shoulder and save you from a burning building. But something about him is telling you that he’s not there to hurt you. So instead, you can imagine him channeling all that big, aggressive energy into really great sex. It’s the very thing you’ve forbidden yourself from having.”
The images those words conjured in her mind—big, aggressive sex—sent heat rushing to her face. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would I want the scariest kind of sex?”
“Because, think about it, it’s not actually the scariest type to you,” she said. “Your sexual encounters with Evan Longdale were gentle. He used those sociopathic powers of his to manipulate a young teenage girl by being sweet and loving. That was his weapon with you. The wolf in sheep’s clothing. So you’re not going to trust sweet and gentle because you know the level of violence that facade was hiding.”
Andi grimaced. Evan had been sweet and gentle. He’d picked up on his little sister’s best friend’s neighborly crush and had done exactly what he needed to do to keep Andi from looking too hard, from saying anything she shouldn’t about all those times she’d watched him come in late, from telling his secrets when she’d seen things in his room she shouldn’t have. He violated her with false words and fake romance and gentle sex, saving his sadistic side for the people he stalked and murdered at the nearby college he attended. “That makes me sound so screwed up.”
“Absolutely not,” Eli
za said, her tone sharp. “Don’t put that label on yourself. The range of what turns people on is vast. As long as there’s consent on all sides and it’s legal, who cares? There’s no rule that says gentle, sweet sex is the healthy kind. I have clients in the kink community. Some of the things they do would make most people’s eyes fall out their heads, but they’re perfectly wonderful, well-adjusted people.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s time you let yourself feel what you feel and trust that. Your gut is more accurate than you give it credit for.”
“My gut had me give my virginity to a serial killer,” she launched back.
“You were a vulnerable teenager with a crush who trusted someone you thought was a friend. And you were still a child. You have to forgive that girl for that. You are not her anymore. Your bullshit detector is much more refined now.”
Andi sighed. Tired.
“If this guy gets you hot and bothered, let yourself feel hot and bothered,” Eliza said, making it sound so simple. “Enjoy that rush of attraction. If you want to try something with him and he’s into it, be honest with him. Tell him that you sometimes get anxiety and that you might need to take it slow or stop completely.”
Andi groaned and put her hands over her face. “I can’t even imagine that conversation. I don’t want to dump my past in his lap.” She dropped her hands and pasted on a smile. “Hi, I’m Andi. I think you’re really hot. By the way, if we get naked and I dissolve into a panic attack, don’t worry, it’s not you. It’s only because my last actual relationship was with a sociopath who murdered people for fun and used me to hide evidence. Wanna make out?”
Eliza gave her a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to tell him everything up front. If he’s not a complete idiot, he knows that lots of women have suffered traumas at the hands of men. Just tell him you’ve had a bad experience and need that assurance. If he’s not cool with that, then that’s all you need to know about him and can move on. And if it makes you feel safer, you can always call me to let me know: Hey girl, I’m with the sexy neighbor and this lucky bitch is about to have some filthy hot sex. You know, so he knows someone knows where you are and who you’re with.”