by Roni Loren
He smiled at her flash of insecurity. “I already know I’m not going to hate it. It’s really good—and darkly funny. And if it helps, I don’t know you well enough yet to recognize any secrets that may be encoded in there. Except that maybe you got really pissed at someone in high school and secretly wish for some serious revenge.”
Her expression flattened.
“Oh no,” he said with a laugh. “Did I actually guess right?”
She stared at him for a second and then scoffed. “Who didn’t get pissed at someone in high school?”
He lifted his drink. “Truth.”
She gave him one last look and then turned back toward the TV. “Okay, stop trying to distract me with flattery to get out of the scary movie. We’re doing this.” She hit Play. “Let’s meet baby Jamie Lee Curtis and her fashionable tights.”
Chapter Eleven
Hill is reading my book. Andi was trying not to pick that apart but…she was totally picking it apart. Was he just curious? Or was he trying to impress her? What did he think of the gory scenes in the book? Or the sex scenes? The story was about a teen but was definitely an adult book. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought of him reading some of the explicit stuff she’d written. Her actual sex life was nonexistent, but her imagination was quite the wild child. Did he think she was into the stuff she wrote about?
More than anything she found herself wondering if this was a date in his eyes or just a friendly thing. She no longer knew what answer she wanted.
Eliza had told her that if she wanted to make a move, to make one, but the thought scared the hell out of her. She didn’t make moves on guys. She could be reading Hill all wrong. He could be completely uninterested. Or faking nice. He could be here for a quick hookup. He could be a dangerous guy who was fooling her like she’d been fooled before.
She frowned. That didn’t feel like what was happening. She peeked over at Hill who was setting aside his pad thai while not taking his eyes off the movie. He sipped his margarita and she watched his throat work as he swallowed. The guy was fucking gorgeous.
Hill startled, a barely there tensing, but she’d caught it because she’d been staring. Even without looking at the screen, she knew what had happened. Michael Myers had appeared, complete with sharp, sudden music.
He glanced over, finding her looking. He smirked. “You didn’t see that.”
She smiled. “Not many people are immune to the jump scare. No shame. I still jump sometimes, even when I’ve seen a movie a hundred times and know it’s coming.”
He considered her, his dark lashes making shadows on his cheeks in the blue-gray light of the television. “But you like that feeling?”
“Being scared in a safe way is a rush.” Feeling bold, she reached out and grabbed his wrist, placing her fingers against his pulse point. His arm tensed beneath her touch, but he stayed very still. “Your heart is beating fast. You probably have already gotten a small dose of adrenaline. You’re breathing a little harder. It’s riding a roller coaster without having to leave your house or risk throwing up.”
His heartbeat picked up speed beneath her fingertips, his skin warm and solid under her touch.
She swallowed hard. “It can even make the person you’re watching the movie with more attractive,” she rambled on, her own heartbeat racing. “Studies have shown that your body mistakes the fear response to the movie for attraction to someone you’re with.”
His gaze held hers, the movie rolling on in the background. “Is that right?”
She wet her lips and pulled her hand back, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop talking. “Yeah. The arousal response system kicks in.”
“I guess I’ve been doing movie dates wrong all my life then,” he said with a half smile. “I thought taking dates to a romantic movie was the way to go. I missed the opportunity to appear more attractive.”
She scoffed. “Right. Like you need the help.”
A look of surprise crossed his face, and she instantly wanted to take back the slipup.
“I mean, I’m sure being the tall, dark, and fit firefighter who cooks was a real burden,” she added.
“Right.” Something closed off instantly in his expression as his gaze shifted back to the movie.
She didn’t know what she’d said wrong, but clearly he didn’t want to continue this conversation. She needed to turn back to the movie, focus on why they were here, but her mouth had other ideas. “Did I say something wrong?”
Hill reached for the remote and paused the movie, turning to her with a frown. “What?”
“You were with me and then you weren’t,” she said. “Usually that means I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth again.”
He let out a breath and shook his head. “No, sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s nothing.”
“Which is code for it’s obviously something,” she said, apparently unable to keep from prodding. “I crossed the friendly line, didn’t I? With what I said? I’m sorry. I ramble. I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” he said quickly. “You’ve been clear about what this is—that this isn’t a date. I just needed a second to remind myself of that. My lines got blurred for a minute, but I’m good now. We’re good.”
A whoosh of some unnamed emotion went through her. “Oh.” She watched him watching her, a realization coming over her. “Wait—do you want this to be a date?”
His jaw flexed like he was ten kinds of uncomfortable. “That’s not why I came over. I’m not trying to pull a bait and switch on you. I came over here to hang out with you and watch a movie. No ulterior motives.”
She considered him. “That didn’t exactly answer my question.”
He sighed, weariness on his face. “Because there’s no easy answer to it. It’s more complicated than that.”
She tucked her legs beneath her, turning more toward him. “Try me.”
His throat worked and his gaze met hers. “In some ways, yes, I’d like this to be a date. You’re an interesting, smart, and beautiful woman. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t attraction on my end. But you’re also my neighbor and tenant and a good bit younger than me. And even if there weren’t those factors in play, I’m in a weird place in my life right now, so I’m not dating. I promise I came here tonight for the friendship and company. This wasn’t some scheme to turn it into something it’s not.”
Her mind spun at all the information. Hill was attracted to her but currently not dating. In a weird place. She could relate. “Wow, well, okay. That wasn’t what I was expecting. I…appreciate your honesty.”
“I’ve made this completely awkward, haven’t I?” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m really good at doing that these days.”
She smiled, endeared. “I should feel awkward, but for some reason, I think you made me more comfortable. Honesty is my favorite quality in a friend.” She gave him a pointed look. “And, for the record, in the spirit of honesty, I think you’re superhot.”
His eyebrows shot up.
She groaned. “Don’t look so surprised. Have you looked in a mirror? Have you tasted your food? But I bet I could out-weird you in the weird-place zone. So I’m glad we’re on the same page. We’re here to be friends. To watch horror movies. And to possibly boost the ratings on my struggling podcast.”
His lips curved at that. “Beautiful yet so pushy.”
“That’s my tagline.” She searched his gaze. “So we’re cool?”
His shoulders seemed to relax. “We’re cool.”
“All right, back to bloody murder.”
But before she could hit Play, he put his hand on her forearm, stilling her. She looked over at him.
“Thanks,” he said with a little nod.
“For what?”
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, sending a shimmer of awareness through her, and then released her. “For being pushy
. I need that right now. I’ve been too good at saying no to everything and everyone lately.”
She gave him a conspiratorial look. “Oh, if it’s pushy you’re in need of, you’ve picked the right new friend. I’m your worst nightmare.” She cocked her head toward the TV. “Now pay attention because some day this week, you’re coming with me to WorkAround and we’re doing that tour.”
“Andi.”
She reached out and pressed her fingers over his lips. “Nope. You’ve given me the green light to be pushy. Contract has been signed. You’re doomed. So just say yes, Hill. I promise I’ll take good care of you. It won’t hurt at all.”
He stared at her for a long moment but then nodded.
She lowered her hand. “Good.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to any podcast,” he added.
“Of course not.” She shifted, turning her body back toward the movie, but landing a little closer to Hill. She could feel the heat coming off him. So much of her wanted to lean in to him, to have him put his arm around her, bend down, and kiss her with those lips she’d just been touching. But now that she knew he wasn’t interested in starting anything up with her, that took the weight out of the thoughts. She could indulge in her little fantasies about him without playing the what-if game or trying to read if this was a date or not a date, if he was going to make a move or not, if she was going to panic if he touched her. Boundaries had been set.
She was safe.
***
Hill was engrossed in Halloween II after he and Andi had decided to go on to the sequel, but in a quiet part of the movie, deep breathing caught his attention. He turned, finding Andi with her cheek against the back of the couch, her eyes closed, fast asleep.
He reached for the remote and hit Pause, afraid a jump scare would wake her, and checked the time on his phone. Damn, how was it almost one in the morning? After watching the first movie, they’d taken a break and Andi had thrown some premade cookie dough in the oven. Somehow, over warm cookies and cold milk, they’d ended up deciding to make the night a double feature. But his movie buddy had apparently run out of steam.
Of course she had. She’d told him earlier how much work she’d done today. Unlike him, she had actual jobs with actual responsibilities. He should’ve left after the first movie and given her time to rest instead of selfishly wanting to soak up more time with her.
After she’d admitted that she was attracted to him, the whole night had taken on a different glow. When he’d first gotten there, he’d felt tentative and unsure about what the situation was. Then when she’d made the comment about how he had to have been attractive when he was a firefighter—past tense—he’d gotten the message. But then she’d quickly corrected his assumption. She thought he was superhot now.
That simple compliment had stirred up something inside him that had been dormant for a long damn time. He hadn’t lost his ability to feel desire after everything happened, but feeling desired was something he hadn’t felt in this new version of his life. It’d been like a shot of adrenaline.
He’d wanted to take back everything he’d said about not dating and being in a weird place and had wanted to pull Andi to him, to kiss her, to show her how he wanted her, to feel her wanting him. To forget that there were any complications with her being his tenant and neighbor, to forget he was in no place to date anyone, to ignore that sex would be all he was capable of offering. But Andi had laid down her own honesty. She had said she was in a strange place, too. She hadn’t told him why or what that meant, but he remembered her statement from the night of the break-in. She never let guys sleep over.
There was a story there, and he had a feeling it was an ugly one. He would respect her boundaries.
Careful not to jostle her, he got up from the couch and grabbed the empty plates and glasses from the coffee table. He went to the kitchen and flipped on the light. Andi’s kitchen was a mirror image of his on the other side, but hers had a lot more color. A bright aqua toaster, a yellow bowl of apples on the counter, and a collection of Super Mario Bros. fridge magnets complete with turtles, redbrick blocks, and green pipes.
He set the dirty dishes in the sink and glanced up. The window above the sink had a small ledge, and Andi had a line of little, round metal bells sitting on it. He’d noticed another set like it on the windowsill in the living room. They didn’t match the rest of her style, so they’d stood out, and he’d wondered if she was one of those people who left Christmas decorations out year-round. He touched one of the bells, but it rolled off the ledge, and he caught it before it could hit the sink. Sensitive little things.
Only then did he realize what they were there for. Noise.
If someone tried to break in through a window, it would send the bells rolling and clanging. He glanced over his shoulder back toward the living room, concern moving through him. Was Andi that frightened? He’d had an alarm installed, and the new dead bolts were top quality. He’d wanted her to feel safe, but obviously, she was still worried. He hated that she felt so insecure in her own place.
A floorboard creaked behind him, and he turned, bell still clutched in his palm.
Andi stood in the doorway, arms crossed like she was cold, and her hair askew from her nap. “I fell asleep on you again.”
“It’s fine. I hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten. I was just picking up the dishes.” He set the bell back on the windowsill carefully and then turned back to her. “I was going to wake you before I headed out.”
Her gaze went to the window, and she rubbed her arms as if chilled. “I see you found my silly security measure.”
He tried to gauge her expression. “You still don’t feel safe.”
She stepped inside the kitchen and shrugged. “I’m not sure I ever feel truly safe, but those were there before the alarm was installed. I left them in case I forget to turn on the alarm.”
“Is there anything I can do? To make you feel more secure here?” he asked, stepping closer, concerned about that haunted look in her eyes.
Andi gave him a wan smile. “It’s not about the house or the neighborhood or anything like that.” She tapped her temple. “It’s all up here, unfortunately. There’s part of me that knows no one is ever one hundred percent safe, that there’s only so much you can do. There is no foolproof plan. But I still try.”
His jaw flexed, her tone saying everything she wasn’t. “Someone hurt you.”
She looked down, her posture closing. “Yeah. Inside a house with the best security system money can buy. So I honestly don’t know why I think Christmas bells would help anything.”
His lungs deflated as a sharp kick of anger went through him. Someone had hurt Andi. Sweet, upbeat Andi. Hurt her badly enough that she never felt safe, that she expected dates to spike her drink and murder her in her sleep, that she spent her life immersed in horror to prepare herself. He wanted to ask all the questions, but he could tell she’d said more than she wanted to.
He moved into her space and reached out, putting his hands on her upper arms. “I’m sorry.”
She looked up, black liner smudged. “For what?”
“That you had to go through whatever you’ve been through. That some pathetic excuse for a human hurt you. I’m sorry you don’t feel safe.”
“Thanks.” She blinked, her eyes going a little shiny. “If it makes you feel better, I feel safer right now.”
His chest filled up with relief at that. “I’m glad. You can feel safe with me, Andi. I swear. I’ve got shit I’m dealing with and my life is kind of a dumpster fire right now, but I would never harm you—or anyone. I became a firefighter because I wanted to be one of the good guys.”
She stared at him for a long moment and then stepped forward, bringing her fully into his space. Before he realized what was happening, she slid her arms around his waist, put her cheek to his chest, and hugged him. The feel of her against him was
a shock, but his reflexes finally caught up, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. Her head tucked right under his chin and the smell of her fruity shampoo filled his nose. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the moment.
But what started as comfort seemed to morph into something else as the hug went on, the air crackling with it. His body began to take notice of Andi’s curves, her softness, her warmth. His heart picked up speed. He stayed very, very still.
Her hold on him eased after a while, and she leaned back a little, looking up at him, so close he could see the dark-blue ring around her pupils. She wet her lips. “Hill?”
“Yeah?” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse as he worried she could read his thoughts on his face. In his previous life, he would’ve labeled Andi’s expression as an invitation to be kissed. But he didn’t trust his instincts on that anymore, so he stayed stock-still.
However, he didn’t have to worry about misreading things for long because Andi pushed up on her toes and leaned in. He closed his eyes, anticipation rushing through him, but instead of feeling her mouth against his, he felt the soft brush of her lips against his cheek.
“Thanks for coming over,” she said softly and then her warmth was gone.
He let out a breath and opened his eyes as she stepped back, trying to get his brain back on track. “Sure. Thanks for the invite. This was fun.”
She nodded and gripped her elbows again, looking more closed off than he’d seen her all night.
“You okay?” he asked, frowning.
She gave him a humorless smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I think I pushed past my limit tonight.”
He had a feeling her limit wasn’t only about the late hour, but he got the hint. “I’ll head out. Let you get some rest.”
She nodded and they made their way to the front of the house. When he stepped out onto the porch, she said, “I still plan on giving you that tour.”
“Look forward to it,” he said, the awkwardness growing. “G’night, Andi.”