by Amber Heart
“Are your parents divorced?”
Leigh shook her head. “No. He’s not my step dad either. My mom...she had some addiction issues. The state took me away.” She cleared her throat. “They took me away a few times, actually. Mom tried, but she never could stay clean. The truth is...I don’t know who my biological dad is. And I haven’t seen my mom since 8th grade.”
“So this guy adopted you?”
Leigh could tell that Dean was shocked. She could also tell that he was trying hard not to act shocked. She appreciated it. She hated sympathy. It was what it was and it could have been worse.
“Fostered me,” Leigh corrected. “The adoption was never formal.” She shrugged. “I wish it had been, but it doesn’t matter now. Just because it’s not legal, doesn’t mean he’s not my dad.”
“So I guess that’s why this project means so much to you,” Dean said, looking down at her. That had been a hell of a story. He’d never have believed it if she hadn’t said it herself.
Leigh nodded. “I mean, I like to make good grades anyway,” she said honestly. “But yeah, this one has some personal meaning.”
“I guess I sound like I’m whining about my daddy issues,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets.
“You don’t have to go through foster care to have problems with your parents,” Leigh said firmly. “So, do you want to know why I was looking for you?”
“Yeah, sure.” Dean was slightly relieved at the change in subject. He’d never told anyone about the issues with his father and, while it was a relief in some ways, it felt strange in others.
“I had an idea to help round out the project. What if we interview a few former foster kids? Get their take on the services they’d like to see? Right now this is all pretty much from my perspective.”
“And the crap ton of research I’ve done,” Dean said indignantly.
Leigh patted him on the arm, feeling muscle move even through his thick coat. “Yes, you’re doing a great job,” she said in a patronizing tone. “Okay. My perspective and a bunch of industry professionals. But nothing from the kids who are currently living this. Seriously. What do you think?”
“It’d probably be a good idea,” he admitted. “Are we gonna have time to fit this into our schedule though?”
Leigh stopped in her tracks and clasped her hands over her heart dramatically, smiling from ear to ear. Dean stopped too.
“What?”
“I love it when you talk schedules to me!”
He laughed, slinging his arm around her shoulders once more. Her whole body heated up and she ducked her head so that he wouldn’t see her smile.
“Baby, I can talk schedules till you’re weak in the knees,” he promised, his voice going lower. “Planners, journals, free time versus work hour ratios....”
Leigh fanned her face theatrically. “Oh my. Ratios.”
“I aim to please.”
His arm was still around her. She noticed again how good he smelled. Her brain seemed to be spinning in circles.
Get a grip, Leigh!
“I can do most of the work on it,” she said matter of factly. “Getting in touch with people and getting interviews. You can help me compile it all.”
“Okay, sure.”
Dean let her go and she felt a lot colder suddenly.
“I’ll see you in a few days then,” he went on.
Was it her imagination or did he sound a little disappointed? She had to be going crazy. He had girls throwing themselves at him day in and day out. She nodded and they parted ways, both of them a little dissatisfied at the way the conversation had ended.
Chapter 6
Leigh opened the door with a sigh. Dean raised his eyebrows.
“Please, don’t look so thrilled. People will stare.”
“It’s been a hell of a day,” she said, ushering him in. “Are you limping?”
“No,” he said defensively. “I’m just...I’m being careful.”
“Aren’t you a little young to have to walk carefully across a living room?”
Dean sat down on the couch with a groan. “Shut up.”
“You had practice today, didn’t you?”
“Just like every other damn day of my damn life.”
He’d leaned his head back against the couch. His eyes were closed and his lower lip was between his teeth again. Leigh couldn’t catch her breath all of a sudden. He was almost too sexy to be real sometimes.
“What’d you do?” she asked, making her tone brisk.
His head snapped up. “I didn’t do anything,” he said. “Nelson Fitzgerald knocked me flat.”
Leigh put her hand over her mouth, but a giggle still escaped.
“I’m glad to be able to make you smile,” he said sarcastically. “I’m glad that knowing I got squished into the AstroTurf by a 300 pound defensive linebacker--”
She was laughing in earnest now. Dean gave a short laugh too, but it was followed by a pained expression.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m in enough pain here. Do you think that you could manage to at least not make it worse?”
Leigh did her best to wipe her expression of anything but sympathy. She knew that she hadn’t succeeded entirely, but she also knew that he wasn’t really mad. “I’ll do my best. Want some ibuprofen or something?”
“Nah,” he said bravely. “I’ll be fine.”
“Sit up straight.”
He moved to comply and then leaned back again. “Okay, maybe one or two.”
She went into the kitchen and shook two pills into her hand. Then she filled a glass with water and brought it back to him, sitting down beside him on the couch as carefully as she could. He swallowed the pills dry and then downed half of the water without taking a breath.
“Thanks, Everleigh.”
“I’m so glad that’s catching on,” she said. It had been a week since they’d had coffee together and he’d managed to sneak in at least one use of her full name every time they’d seen each other since.
He leaned his head back again. “I still don’t see why it pisses you off. It’s a cool name.”
Leigh shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s weird.”
He gave her a sideways grin. “So are you.” She smacked him and he groaned; it was a little more theatrical than it needed to be, but only a little. “You’re a shitty nurse, you know that?”
“You said you’d be fine,” she reminded.
“I lied. I think I’m dying.”
“Did you get it checked out?”
“Yeah. They say I’m not, but they just want me in Saturday’s game.”
“What did they really say?” she asked practically.
“Pulled muscle, you cold woman. I’m supposed to rest it.”
“So why aren’t you?”
“Because I had to see you!” he said, his tone indignant.
“Aw, I admire your dedication. Isn’t ice good for a pulled muscle?”
“They said something like that.”
“You know what else would probably help?”
“A Jacuzzi. A massage. Getting drunk.”
“No. Pizza and a horror movie.”
Dean opened his eyes. “What about our schedule?”
“Screw the schedule.”
“Keep talking.”
“I want a huge pizza. Extra cheese. Smothered in cheese, in fact. And then covered in pepperoni and sausage and green peppers and black olives.”
Dean hadn’t eaten since breakfast at 7:30. He was dangerously close to drooling just imagining it. “Lose the olives and I’m in.”
“I will, but only because you’re hurt.” Leigh stood up. “I’ll get you an ice pack when I pick it up.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Leigh tossed him the remote and stood up. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Dean lay back on the couch and put his feet up, channel surfing halfheartedly. He remembered to keep the volume down. He wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation wit
h her crazy roommate. He’d only seen the girl once; when she came out of her room to “politely” ask the two of them to keep it down one night when they’d been arguing about project timelines. Dean still didn’t see why proofreading needed to take an entire week. He usually did it five minutes before he turned an assignment in.
Everleigh had apologized to her roommate and, even keeping her voice down, she’d won the argument. Dean smiled just from remembering it. Most girls didn’t argue with him, or if they did, it was just for fun and they always let him win. She never backed down and it was hot as hell.
He barely noticed what channel he was watching, his thoughts were so focused on his project partner. Over the past few weeks he’d come to notice more and more how sexy she was. He’d always liked that long brown hair and those ocean deep blue eyes. But she was funny and smart too. She didn’t take shit and she gave as good as she got. And her legs were about a mile long and he wanted them wrapped around him.
Everleigh never seemed to notice it though. She treated him like a friend. She never called unless she had some work to talk about. And when he put his arm around her...which he did as often as he could get away with...she didn’t lean into him. But sometimes he caught her looking at him. Sometimes he caught a blush on her high cheekbones and he would have killed to know what she was thinking about in those moments.
Dean shifted on the couch, trying to focus on the television. This was definitely the wrong line of thought for a guy with a pulled back muscle. Even if she’d come through the door in lingerie and begged him to take her right then and there, he wouldn’t have accomplished much.
“But I’d give it a try for damn sure,” he muttered.
****
Half an hour later she breezed back in, a massive pizza box in her hands. There was a 2 liter balanced on top of it. A pharmacy bag dangled from her wrist. Lightning struck just as she stepped over the threshold and then rain started pouring down.
“Do I have great timing or what?” Leigh demanded kicking the door shut behind her. “And don’t get up!” she ordered when he started to move. “I got it.” She lowered the pizza box to the coffee table and put the 2 liter on the floor. “I’ll get the ice pack in the freezer and then we’ll watch a movie.”
Dean eased back into a sitting position. The painkillers had dented the ache. The prospect of pizza helped too.
Leigh came back with two plates and refilled his glass as he flipped open the pizza box. “God, that looks good. How much do I owe you?”
She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I would have bought the exact same amount of pizza whether you were here or not.” That, she mused as she looked at the huge box, was simply the cold hard truth. Eating her feelings was a specialty of hers.
“Come on, you work 2 jobs. I’m not an asshole.”
“I know that. You can get the next one.”
“Sounds good.” He took a bite and chewed in contentment. “We should do this once a week. It’s a hell of a lot better than compiling research.”
“Tonight it is,” she agreed, putting two slices on her own plate and then going to the DVD shelves.
“What are we watching?” he asked.
“You’ll see.”
She inserted a disc and joined him on the couch, biting into her own slice and sighing happily. “This is so good.”
“What went wrong with your day?” he asked as previews began to play. He’d meant to ask before, but she’d distracted him with concern and pizza.
Leigh gave a rueful smile. “What didn’t? Double shift at the coffee house because Rebecca is out sick. I had to work the front counter and it seemed like everyone was having a bad day. If I get yelled at more than 3 times an hour my day goes downhill fast.”
“Who yelled at you?” Dean demanded.
She shrugged. “Lots of people.” It seemed like everyone’s coffee was either too hot or too cold or too sweet or too bitter or a thousand other complaints. “I think it’s the weather. Everyone was on edge waiting for it to rain.” She glanced out the front window. “I’m glad it finally started.”
Dean scowled, not willing to be distracted. “I hope you spit in their coffee.”
She laughed. “I thought about it really hard, but I maintained my professionalism.”
“What else happened?”
“My roommate moved out. She didn’t even say anything, which goes along well with her behavior this whole semester. I found a note on the kitchen table when I got home from work. Apparently she’s moving in with her boyfriend.”
So he could have had a normal volume on the television after all. “Can you swing the rent without her?” he asked.
Leigh blinked, surprised at the concern on his face. “It’ll take a chunk out of my savings, but I’ll manage it. I think I’ll probably be able to find a new roomie soon anyway. This is a decent place.”
“If you need help, let me know.”
She didn’t know if he meant financial help or assistance in finding a new roommate, but she was so amazed that he’d asked that she only nodded. “I will.”
The movie began and Dean groaned. “How old is this?”
“This particular film premiered in 1963,” Leigh said, polishing off her second slice of pizza.
“I thought we were going to watch something scary,” he protested. “Come on, we’ve got good food and perfect weather...” A huge boom of thunder marked his words. “Let’s use it.”
Leigh grinned. “We are.” When he didn’t look convinced, she went on. “If you don’t like it, I’ll owe you a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Dean asked, his low voice and slow smile sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the movie.
She busied herself getting another slice for both of them. “Whatever you want,” she said boldly.
“I’ll be sure to take you up on that, Everleigh.”
This time his use of her full name didn’t bother her. They watched in silence as they finished their pizza, Dean making snide comments along the way.
“Oh no, a bird dive bombed her. Horrifying.” A few minutes passed. “Hey, now there’s a dead seagull on the porch. I’m not sure I can take much more.”
Leigh grinned. “You’ll see.”
About halfway through, she stood up to get the ice pack. Dean jumped and then winced.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
She raised an eyebrow. “To get the ice pack. Or do you need me to stay with you?”
“No,” he said quickly. “It’s just...that’s a lot of birds. You know. For some playground equipment.”
She handed him the ice pack a few seconds later. He barely took his eyes away from the screen. “Holy shit, why would they take a kid out in that? Those birds are gonna...” He stopped when the crows swooped. “Get in the house!”
Leigh pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and spread it over both of them while Dean tucked the ice pack behind him. She was torn between watching the movie and watching Dean’s face. He was completely drawn in now.
As the movie faded to black, he turned to stare at her. “Wait. That’s it? But...what...why did it happen? Is it everywhere or just in their town?”
“We don’t know,” Leigh said. “Personally, I think that maybe she was causing the attacks and she’s doomed him to a lifetime of running from birds.”
He nodded approvingly. “Twisted. Or maybe it was all in her head.”
“No way! Too many other people saw it.”
“Not the deaths,” Dean argued. “She was the only one finding the bodies. So maybe there was some kind of weird bird infestation and she used it to let out her inner serial killer.”
“That’s crazy. Not everything is about serial killers.”
“You don’t know for sure.” Thunder boomed and he looked quickly out the window.
She grinned. “A little freaked out?”
“No,” he lied.
“You can admit it.”
“Only if you will,” Dean
challenged.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Leigh said honestly. “This movie always gives me the creeps. Want to watch an infomercial to get our minds off of it?”
“Does that work?”
“Usually. How’s your back?”
“A little better.” He lay down again, propping his feet in her lap. “What?” he asked when she gave him a look. “I’m an injured man and it feels better when I’m lying down.” She wasn’t pushing him off. That was a good sign.