by Nana Malone
He shook his head as he laughed. "You're still mad about the quinoa, I get it."
She moved the weight to her good arm. "So what's wrong with you that you can't keep a girlfriend?"
"It's not a matter of keeping one. I just prefer to keep things casual. It's easier to avoid being manipulated that way. If both parties know the score, no one gets any unclear expectation. So I keep things simple. Casual." He kept her going and it was easier to work when he was talking to her about something other than the workout. "Since we're getting all up close and personal, I don't see anyone around besides Christian."
"Did he really need to remind her about Christian? She still had no idea what she was going to say to him when he came home in a few weeks. She cared about him, but not the way he wanted. "Does my battery operated boyfriend count? Because I probably should buy stock in Duracell batteries."
He stopped spotting her and stared for a good several moments, then his laugh filled the gym, ricocheting off the walls. "Are you serious right now?"
She suppressed a giggle. "What? A girl's got needs."
His intense gaze focused on her lips. "Why not, as someone once said to me, you're not ugly."
"Hardy har." Of course he'd hurl her words back on her. "Let's just say I got a nasty ass burn the last time I tried, so I'm not too keen on doing that shit again. At least not the whole handing your heart over to someone to destroy part. 'Cause that part sucks."
He nodded. "But a girl's got needs?"
This time she laughed. "Yep, a girl's got needs all right."
He leaned in so close, his breath tickled her ear and pure molten heat flooded her veins, shorting all her brain functions. She swallowed hard, as he whispered her name. "Hey, Kisima?"
God, she wanted to melt into that voice. "Hmmm?"
"I'd like to point out that you did two extra reps per arm. So see, you did have more in you."
"Asshole," she muttered.
"Careful now. You sweet-talk me like that and I'm going to start thinking you like me.” Then he gave her the full effect of his laughing grin.
Good lord, if he only knew what that did to her body. Or maybe he did and that's why he smiled so much. "Bite me."
"You say the sweetest things. Come on. I want to see you walk the plank one more time."
"So you want me to be Tinker Bell to your Captain Hook? You should have just said if you wanted to role play."
He blinked at her for a moment, then a loud barking laugh tumbled out of his chest. "You're a trip. Later we can live out your pirate fantasy, right now we work."
"Fine. But has anybody ever told you you're a sadist."
His expression went blank, then he said, "You're the one who put a video camera in my bedroom? I swear, it's only a little light spanking between friends."
Despite herself, she laughed. Even though the alarm bells rang, she ignored them. This was flirting. She was flirting. With her trainer. She had problems. "Spanking huh? I didn't figure you as the type." Shut up. Shut up. Stop flirting with the man. Do your work, focus.
His pupils dilated and he took a step toward her. "You looking to find out for yourself, Kisima?"
She was unsteady on her feet, but that had nothing to do with her crutches or her injuries. It was all him. Is this the elusive feeling she'd been missing with Christian. That free-falling, desperate feeling. Now she understood. She finally got why people were willing to kill for love, for sex. Willing to die for it. She felt too hot, and itchy and...needy, but she loved it. She liked the feeling. "I—"
"How are you guys coming along?"
Startled, she jerked and tumbled into him for the second time that day. He, on the other hand, seemed perfectly composed. The only hint that a thick cocoon of tension swirled around them was his slightly parted lips and dilated pupils, his eyes having gone from bright blue to more of a navy color.
He spoke smoothly as he still held her. "Coming along great, TJ." He kept his gaze on her as he spoke, though. "I'm just trying to convince Kisima that she wants to try her hand at walking again. What do you say?"
Walking, yeah, that's what she wanted to try. She swallowed hard, ready to cuss him out for backing her into a corner, but she considered her audience. "Hey, TJ."
Her surrogate father had this way of commanding any room he walked into, but somehow with Derek there, his presence didn't feel as great. "Hey, Kiss." He kissed her on the temple. "You look like you've been working hard. I'd love to see how you're coming."
Fantastic, he wanted to watch? "Great, you're gonna get to see me shuffle three feet."
Derek stepped aside to give her a clear path. "What was that I said this morning?"
She rolled her eyes as she responded automatically, "Any progress is good progress." She should know it by now, he'd been saying it to her all morning.
Automatically, TJ reached for her elbow to help her and she shrugged him off. "Thanks, but I can do it."
He opened his mouth to protest and Derek shook his head. That shut him up quickly. She hated to admit it, but the sadist might have been right about the crutches. She'd been on them half a day and she already had way more mobility. It wasn't entirely pleasant, she felt weak, but at least she was moving on her own. And that counted for more than she would have figured two weeks ago.
At the parallel bars, she slid her gaze to Derek and he nodded. She shifted her weight from one of the crutches to the bars, dropping the crutch to the soft spring floor they'd mounted underneath the parallel bars. When she did the same with the other one, all her weigh was on her arms and her shoulder protested.
Derek shifted position, stepping right in front of her until he had her left side partially supported and she didn't put too much strain on her shoulder. "Remember what I said, trust your legs. They know what to do. They might be stiff and weak and hurt a little, but trust them. Give your shoulder a break.”
She gritted her teeth together and tried to focus on her feet. "Easy for you to say."
His voice was soft, but gentle. "Look at me, Kisima. At my eyes, not at your feet. Follow my voice and just come to me."
She understood what he was trying to do. Convince her that she could move without willing them to. They'd done this before. And she'd tried the same thing then. But now, looking at him was loaded with extra emotion she wasn't accustomed to. And she was acutely aware that TJ was watching them. But the moment their gazes locked, it was impossible to look away. She focused on his voice and not the pain.
The first step was the hardest. Given the work she'd already done for the day, her hip was talking to her. That hip flexor being forced to work for the first time in months. The calf of her right leg also protested, but it worked. He was right, all she had to do was trust her body. She was able to walk. It would just hurt at first until she gained the strength.
"Come to me, Kiss, you got this. Show TJ how hard you've been working."
"I expect a very big treat today. Like maybe some food with some flavor."
"You have a problem with my cooking, Kisima?"
"Your cooking is fine, but if I see any more quinoa, I'm going to lose it. I want a burger."
"Then you know what you have to do, don't you, Kisima. Walk the plank. The whole thing."
Fuck, she was afraid he'd say that. "Whatever you say, Captain Hook."
"Let me see it, big talker," he said with a smirk.
With each step, she showed him. Despite the pain, she pushed further. And with each step she got closer and closer to the thing she shouldn't want. When she reached the end. His lips split into a grin and he picked her up and twirled her around. "That's my girl."
"Screw the compliments, I want my meat, cowboy."
TJ whooped and came over to congratulate her, but she didn't miss Derek's muttered comment. "Be careful what you ask for."
***
"'Sup, honey bunny? How you holding up?"
Kisima couldn't have held back a smile if she wanted to. There was just something about Leah’s sunny voice that co
uld charm a smile out of a feral raccoon.
"You mean besides being ready to kill my physical therapist? Good. Great. Perfect."
Leah's laugh rang over the phone. "Awesome. Can’t wait to meet him."
"He is a pompous, arrogant, know-it-all who thinks he's God's gift."
"Jesus, Kisima, tell me how you really feel."
"Leah, I know, I can be prickly, but I swear to God he’s deliberately trying to drive me crazy. I mean for starters he fired all the aids Christian and TJ hired for me. Yes, I'm glad not to have them in my face all the time, but for the love of God, I need help sometimes. And he's convinced that I'm being lazy and using the chair as an excuse. And then—"
Leah didn't let her finish. "Something tells me you can go on all night about this guy."
She could. "I mean that's just the tip of the iceberg, Leah. He has this way of looking through you, like he sees all the shit you don't want him to. And then he just strolls around here with all that swagger. He's like that guy from high school who was always captain of this and leader of that. This is what happens when those guys grow up, they become this guy." Now she was on a roll. "I mean it's bad enough he knows how good looking he is, but the way he prances around here. Shirtless and shit. I mean, it's like I get it, you have a stupid ten pack. Fine. I don't need to see it all the time. I mean, am I right or am I right?"
There was a beat of silence on the phone before Leah said, "No, you are not right. I mean if there's a nice stomach to be ogled, then I'm here for that."
"Even if it's on a first class douche?"
"Yeppers." Kiss could almost see her bestie nodding up and down enthusiastically. "Have you forgotten the idiot Olympic swimmer who ran around wearing Grillz for fun, and saying ‘Jyeah,’ in interviews?”
Kisima's heart sank. Yeah, he was very nice to look at body wise, but God, he pretty well had “I'm a giant douche” stamped on his forehead. “Okay, fair enough, but he's an asshole of the highest order."
"I'll agree to that sight unseen, because that is the way of girl code, but make no mistake, I too shall ogle some abs."
Kisima laughed despite the fact that the marvelous set of abs belonged to Derek. "Don’t say I didn't warn you."
"Does the face match or will we not be bothering to look him in the eyes?" Leah chortled.
"You think I would be so lucky that he wouldn't also be totally hot. Yeah, the face matches and he knows it. And he can back up that swaggar. He used to play basketball for LSU. But tore his ACL and Achilles. He's healed up but his playing days are over. Though that didn't stop him from playing a little the other night.” She was curious about the injury, but damned if she was going to talk to him all chummy like.
"Now you know I love you, but maybe I should point out that the reason you're so against this guy is because you find him the teeniest bit attractive?"
Kisima sputtered, "Leah, come on. I see hot guys every day."
"Yeah, but they're not living in your house and under foot all the time"
"I promise you, Leah, I'm not interested," she said with perhaps a hint too much bite.
"Uh huh, if you say so. How are you feeling anyway, like really feeling?"
"Tired. In a little bit of pain, but I need to get back on the track."
"Are they pressuring you? I know how much TJ loves you, but sometimes he can push too hard for his agenda."
"It's not like that, Leah, he’s doing this all for me. He's sick. And the Abu Dhabi race is our last try for bigger sponsors for me, if I don’t win and show everyone what I can do, it’s over. He sank all that money into me for nothing."
"I didn't know it was that bad."
"Once word gets out about his illness, his decisions will be called into question. There will be people willing and able to wrestle control of Daniels from him. He needs me in a car. Needs me to win."
Leah sighed. "Kisima, that's too much pressure on you."
"It's fine, Leah. I'm fine. Barring an overbearing trainer, I'll live." Besides TJ needed her and she owed him.
11
Speed.
Pressure on her chest as she rounded the first corner. Through her visor, Kisima had the other car in her sights. Antonio. She wanted to nail him. For once show that she could beat him. That she had the fast car, that she had the grit.
Kiss waited for the corner and then clipped him. Shards flew out onto the track. With a slight smile, she kicked her engine into gear as she passed.
Holy shit, she'd done it. She was leading. Now all she had to do was hold on to the lead. Corner after corner, straight after straight, she led him.
Montreal was one of the most difficult tracks in the world. The number of corners combined with the banked straights made it a challenge, but she knew it inside out. This was life. This was perfection. On the track, no one judged her. It was her and her car.
But then Antonio slowed down. Why? What was he doing? What the– Then, for what seemed like an eternity, she was flying. Her stomach flipped and adrenaline spiked her blood as her heart thundered.
The force that jarred her back to the ground made her head feel like it was going to pop off and her teeth ache.
Her arms ached with the sheer force required to get the car under control. Fear gripped her and the terror rooted and took hold. There was no controlling the steering at that point. The barricade came at her. Once again, time slowed. Giving her the cruel illusion that she had time to do something, time to stop it all. But that was a lie.
The car flipped.
Pain registered first. Radiating all over her body. Everything below her neck hurt. What the fuck had happened? Fire licked at her skin, the gas fumes filling her lungs, making her cough and wheeze. The heat cooking her inside her car like a rotisserie chicken. Desperately, she tried for her release but it wouldn't budge. Oxygen waning, she tried to breath faster, but no air came. The suffocation she could handle, but not the heat. She was really going to die in her car...and there was no one to come for her. No one to mourn her death.
Except, she hadn't died.
If being trapped in that car was bad, what was worse was waking up in the hospital days later in the most intense kind of pain she'd ever felt in her life. It was only when she knew she was going to live that her brain let her register the pain she was in. It all hurt. Her neck and back burned and she could smell that acrid smell of burning flesh. Oh fuck, she was cooking.
The scream bubbled up in her chest before she could recall it. She screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed, begging to die, begging for someone to save her, begging for someone to help her. Her body shook and convulsed.
"Kisima, wake the hell up!"
Her lids fluttered open and just like that the smell of charring flesh was gone. The heat that baked her was gone. She was safe, at home in her bed. Derek was here. He wasn't going to let her burn.
Without thinking, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping herself around him. Screw her protesting shoulder, she wasn't letting him go until she was able to shake off the feeling of impending death.
"So...scared...save..." Her words were broken as she tried to separate her wakeful state from her dream state. From the actual events of that day to whatever manner of evil her brain could cook up.
Derek held her close and she let the scent of ocean wash away the stench. His strong arms keeping her safe from the fire, from the pain. "Shhhh, it's okay, you're safe. I have you. Nothing is going to hurt you. You're safe, Kisima. I have you."
She didn't know how long he held her, crooning in her hair, but she knew with each word he uttered, she relaxed into his hold, the tension slowly ebbing out of her body. She didn't know why, but she felt safe with him like nothing could ever hurt her. "Please don't let go."
She felt him stiffen, but she held on tight. She'd regret this decision in the morning, but she couldn't sleep, she needed this. Needed the contact. Needed him to hold her. "I'm not, sweetheart, you're okay. I have you." When he tried to loosen her grip, she did an excellent
spider monkey impression and he chuckled. "I'm just going to move you over okay? I promise, I'm not going anywhere."
Oh, he wasn't trying to leave her. "O-okay."
She tried to help, but it was easier to let him just lift and reposition her. When he scooted into the bed next to her, then brought her over so she could tuck her head into the crook of his shoulder, she realized his chest was bare and he only had on low-riding pajama bottoms. Oh. Wow. He was warm and smelled amazing.
Those pecs that looked just fine under cotton looked even better up close and naked. Tentatively she placed a hand over his chest, her fingers settling on the very light dusting of hair.
His heartbeat thundered under her cheek and she could feel every single thump of his heart.
He must have noticed the tension in her too because he whispered, "Don’t worry about it, Kisima. This is only to help you sleep. Close your eyes. I have you. You can trust me."
And instinctively she knew he was right. She knew she could trust him. With him nothing bad was going to happen. She finally relaxed and enjoyed her position. His heartbeat eventually calmed down and the steady thump comforted, lulling her to drift, to relax.
His voice was mellow and deep as he asked, "What was the dream about?"
She stiffened again and he smoothed a hand down her back. She thanked God she'd opted for a T-shirt to sleep in instead of one of her camis, because then he'd be all up close and personal with her scars and skin grafts. "The accident."
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
She shook her head, unable to even say the word no.
"You're safe now. Nothing is going to hurt you. You're tough. After what you did in the gym today, nothing can touch you. If you talk about it, you can let it go."
She wasn't ready for that yet. She couldn't talk about it because none of it made any sense. "I remember the pain. I thought I was going to die. I-I wished to die. So...horrible." Her voice sounded dreamy and far away to her own ears. "Please don't leave me."
He stroked a hand over her head. "Not gonna happen."