Average Jane

by Kristin Coley

  “Okay.” He looked a bit awkward, his hands by his side as he looked around. “Do you need assistance…” He gestured to my body. “Undressing?”

  I shook my head. I was capable of removing my own clothing.

  “Right then. I’ll go out here.” He pointed to the room. “If you need me, shout. I’ll come running and I promise to keep my eyes closed.”

  “Are your fingers crossed?” I asked, bemused as I caught sight of them in the reflection from the mirror.

  “Of course not!” He protested before catching sight of where I was looking. He uncrossed them and looked back at me. “Scout’s honor, love, no peeking.” He raised both of his hands to my amusement, and I pointed at the door. He nodded. “Right, on my way.”

  He pulled the door shut behind him and I carefully peeled my clothes off, leaving them in a heap on the floor. They had blood on them and other things I wasn’t entirely sure about, and didn’t care to think about.

  Lowering myself into the tub was a painful process. My toes felt frozen solid causing the hot water to burn, and the aches in my body caused any movement to become painful. The scent of lavender rose from the water as I sank deeper into it, and I wondered if he’d chosen it to help me relax, or if it had been the only option available.

  I shook my head at myself. It didn’t serve me to underestimate him. He’d shown extraordinary kindness. He’d been the one to pay for my lunch, and to come up to me after the attack. I was sure Michael would have as well, but Ian had charged in, making sure I was safe.

  His actions surprised me, I admitted to myself, tucking a stray tendril of hair that had fallen back up. He’d come across as a flirty player, but he’d shown himself to be deeply compassionate as well.

  I carefully washed myself, noting the multitude of bruises that were beginning to form, and wincing as the soap caused the cut on my lip to burn. My hands hurt as I moved them and I stared down at the splits across the knuckles of my right hand. They oozed slightly as I flexed them, the sight mesmerizing me. I was startled to realize I was proud of those scrapes. I’d never been forced to defend myself, taking the random self-defense class only because my mother or a friend wanted to go, but not really thinking about having to protect myself.

  Today, I’d had to, and proven I could. The thought made me feel strong even as my body felt weak as a kitten. I’d brought that guy down with no help from anyone, my own anger fueling me. It hadn’t been easy and the violence I’d felt defending myself disturbed me slightly. I hadn’t known I was capable of such destructive emotions. But it also made me want to learn more. To truly be able to defend myself in an attack.

  I wasn’t kidding myself, luck had been on my side today. I think my attacker must have had a couple of drinks based on the alcohol I’d smelled. Maybe that was why he’d had the courage to come at me, but either way next time I might not be so lucky.

  It hadn’t hurt that Ian and Michael had shown up when they did. It occurred to me to wonder where they’d come from and how they’d known. The moments after the attack were a blur, I didn’t even remember going to their car. I sat up suddenly, the water in the tub slopping over the sides as I realized I didn’t know precisely where I was or where my phone and purse were, and that I had intended to go to the police station with the nice waitress.

  “Jane love, are you alright?” Ian’s voice came through the door along with a light knock. “You haven’t drowned, have you? Because that headline might upset Michael a tad.”

  His words caused me to snort and laugh, and I had to catch my breath before I could reply.

  “Well, considering the laughter I take that to mean you’re still alive.”

  “Yes, I am. Do you happen to have my purse? And my phone? And, where are we?”

  “I have your things, we brought them in the car with us. They’re on the sofer in here. We’re at Bourbon Orleans hotel.”

  “What’s a sofer?”

  “Sofer, sofa.” He enunciated, his British accent rolling the ending a into an er sound.

  “Oh, okay. I don’t even know where that is…the hotel I mean. Thank you for getting my things.”

  “Okay, do you want me to bring them to you or will you be coming out?”

  “Are you trying to sneak a peek at me?” I accused him, seriously doubting it. I was the epitome of average. “There are a lot of bubbles still. You wouldn’t see a thing.”

  A low laugh came through the door.

  “Is that an invitation then?”

  “No!” I squeaked, and he laughed harder. I didn’t like to think I was a prude, but I’d grown up with exceptionally conservative parents. I was only allowed to wear long skirts that covered my entire leg, and shirts with a high neckline. A man who wasn’t my husband would never be allowed to witness me taking a bath.

  I ignored the momentary desire to make an exception for Ian. “I’ll come out.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  The idea sent an unexpected thrill down me. The bath had revived me somewhat thankfully since I knew I’d need all of my wits about me with Ian. His next words proved it.

  “There’s a robe hanging on the door, if you’d rather not put your clothes back on.”

  I leaned my head back over the edge of the tub, catching a glimpse of a fluffy robe.

  “Thank you, Ian.”

  My words had a hint of dismissal in them and he took it the floor creaking as he stepped away. I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering when I’d become Alice and found myself down a rabbit hole.

  Chapter Two

  After a few more minutes of soaking in the tub, I pushed myself out, my fingers and toes beginning to look like prunes. The water sloughed off me as I stood there, and I reached for the chain that released the plug so the water would drain. I leaned over to grab a towel and felt my entire body protest. The warm water had helped me feel more human again, but I was still in for a bit of soreness. At least my wounds had stopped bleeding.

  I toweled myself off, and then wrapped it around me. A hairbrush was lying on the counter and the thought of brushing my hair was soothing. I normally kept the heavy length in a bun, but the day’s adventures had made a mess of it. The pressure from the pins wasn’t helping the tension in my head either. I tugged the pins out, releasing my hair and massaging my scalp before pulling the brush through the long strands. As I tugged through the knots the pain made me flinch, but I managed to get my hair smooth. I considered putting my hair back up, but it felt so wonderful to not have it bound that I decided against it. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with them seeing my hair.

  I finally forced myself to look at my face. Considering how it felt it didn’t look nearly as bad as I thought it would. My lower lip was puffed out, the cut on it bright red, and I could see the shadow of a bruise forming across my cheek. I imagined both would be worse in the morning, but for now it was proof I’d survived.

  I looked down at the clothes on the floor, and the idea of putting them back onto my now clean body was repulsive. I reconsidered the robe hanging on the door. It was large and fluffy, more than capable of covering all of me, but there was something so intimate about walking around in nothing but a robe, especially around a man like Ian.

  I wasn’t precisely sure when my preference had switched from Michael’s dark good looks to Ian’s more boyish charm, but they had and it left me feeling uneasy. I owed them both a great deal, but there really could be nothing between us. As much as I wished to soak up the attention of a man like Ian, I knew it would only be temporary. He was not a man that would stay with any woman for long, especially a plain Jane like myself.

  I shook my head at my own foolishness. The idea of someone like him being romantically interested in a woman like me was ridiculous. I doubted seriously he’d thought of me as anything more than a damsel in distress, and that was where his solicitous attention was coming from. I knew instinctively the idea of being a knight in shining armor would appeal to him. He was the type to live in the moment, casual
ly flirting with every woman he met, and while I didn’t doubt he could form an attachment, it would take more than an afternoon with someone. I resolved to thank them both for their attentive care and to quit spinning daydreams. I had bigger problems to solve.

  I tugged the robe on defiantly, giving myself one last look in the mirror. What little makeup I’d worn was long gone, leaving me grateful that for once my skin was clear of blemishes. I may not be a stunning beauty, but what little vanity I had didn’t want me to appear ugly in front of Ian.

  I pulled the door open, padding out on bare feet. He jumped up from the sofa where he’d been sitting, giving me an indecipherable look.

  “Feeling a bit better then?”

  I nodded, tugging the lapels of the robe closer together as he observed me. He gestured to the sofa so I walked over, settling in one corner before noticing the glass of water and aspirin on the low table in front of it. The corner of my mouth tilted up, deepening the dimple in my own cheek as I reached for the medicine. A quick glance out of the corner of my eye revealed a bashful look on his face.

  “Thank you.” I held up my palm, cradling the pills like they were priceless, and they were to my aching body. I didn’t stop to question if the pills were anything but aspirin, trusting him instinctively. I tossed them back, swallowing them with the water, before preceding to gulp the rest of the water down, inexplicably thirsty.

  “I’ll get you some more.” He held out his hand for the glass I held so I gave it to him, watching him refill it. I sipped it more slowly this time, the cool glass feeling good against my lip.

  “I have some ointment for your lip and your knuckles.” He showed me a little tube of antibiotic ointment and I nodded. He scooted closer to me, reaching for my hand. He laid it in his, gently rubbing the salve into my cuts. I pushed my tongue against my lip, feeling the puffiness of it. The movement drew his eyes and he stared at my mouth, his thumb still stroking my knuckles. He shook himself, looking back down and squeezing more of the ointment on his finger.

  “This might sting a tad, love.” His voice roughened as he brought his finger to my lip, but his touch was light as a feather as he spread the salve on to my cut lip. His other hand cradled my face as he brushed his finger over my lip. I watched him, his lidded eyes heavy as he studied my mouth. He turned my face slightly, and ever so lightly leaned forward, placing the softest of kisses at the corner of my mouth.

  “And a kiss to make it all better.”

  The rumble of his voice was thickened by his accent, and the tingle from the press of his lips had my eyes closing involuntarily as I swayed toward him. We held the position for a moment longer before I felt a gentle push as he shoved himself up.

  “Thank you. Again.” I told him breathlessly, everything I’d told myself in the bathroom gone with a single kiss. He shook his head at my appreciation, fiddling with the cap to the ointment before screwing it on and spinning away.

  A click broke the awkwardness we suddenly found ourselves in and I was grateful for the interruption as the door swung open.

  “Michael! About time you showed up.”

  “You should be thanking me. I was able to persuade our reporter to delete the picture on his camera with the understanding I would give him a better story another time.”

  Michael stepped into the room then and with a laser like focus took in my position on the sofa wearing only a robe.

  With a smirk he said, “Ian, your speed in getting women to remove their clothing impresses even me.”

  “She took a bath. Get your mind out of the gutter. She didn’t want to put the bloody clothes back on.” He waved an impatient hand at his brother, shutting the door behind him. “So, there will be no story to get back to Father?”

  “Correct. At least until the next time you do something salacious, which will not be long, I’m sure.”

  “Your faith in me knows no bounds.” Ian frowned, his brows lowered in what I could only assume was worry.

  “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you. I’ll be happy to tell your father what really happened. I’m sure he’d be very proud of you. Your kindness to me has been overwhelming.” Michael paused as he rummaged through the minibar to glance at me, and Ian came to sit down next to me, patting my shoulder.

  “Don’t concern yourself. It’s my fault the reporters follow us around. I’m usually the one to give them a good story. We appreciate the thought, but our father would not believe you. He firmly believes I am quite irredeemable.”

  “He’s wrong.” I held his gaze steadily, already knowing a heart of gold laid under his playboy attitude. He finally looked away, and I shifted my eyes to Michael.

  “What do you do? It seems strange to me that reporters would care either way about your actions. Are you famous?”

  “Not too famous if you don’t recognize us.” Ian remarked with a devilish smile. I felt my own lips curl up in response to it, and the danger he posed to my heart suddenly dawned on me. I’d never met someone who could capture my full attention the way he had, and it thrilled and terrified at the same time.

  “Not really. I don’t watch much television, or surf the internet. My parents believe social media corrupts.”

  “They sound singularly intelligent then.” Michael replied with a smile as he poured the contents of a small bottle into a glass.

  “I used to think so.” I muttered, playing with a thread on the robe. I couldn’t decide if my situation had greatly improved or reduced. I was safe, warm and dry, but my only clothes were filthy and torn, and I was sitting in a hotel with two men I barely knew. I knew what my mother’s opinion of the situation would be, and smiled as I pictured the horrified look she’d have.

  My response garnered a curious glance, but they didn’t comment.

  “To answer your original question, no we’re not famous. Just wealthy.”

  “Which is practically one in the same for Americans.” Ian responded with an airy wave.

  “In all fairness, you’ve made quite a few headlines in Europe as well, brother.”

  “True.” He tipped his head to Michael, and I glimpsed weariness hidden behind the careless gesture. “The family name is a little more well-known there.

  “That sounds…depressing, actually.” I told them, already over the idea of reporters standing around waiting for a glimpse of someone just because they had some type of wealth or fame. Today proved the point, as they would sooner be vilified for their kindness than applauded for their heroics.

  “It can be, but it’s a necessary evil in our lives.” Michael sipped the drink in his hand, and even though I thought it was a bit early to be drinking, I also hadn’t had to deal with the same things he had.

  It hadn’t escaped me that he’d had to promise something to the reporter so the picture of me would be deleted. While I was sure it was to their benefit as well, they’d still taken a chance helping me and made sure my face wouldn’t appear in tomorrow’s news.

  “I wanted to thank you both for coming to assist me.” I toyed with the tie on the robe, shy in the presence of both of them. They’d helped me, quite unexpectedly, and sitting there with them was surreal.

  “Lovie, you were impressive.”

  “I second that. I was utterly terrified to approach you. I had no doubt you’d rip a limb off.”

  I laughed at their antics, Ian’s sincerity warming me and Michael’s exaggeration amusing me as they attempted to put me at ease.

  “How did you know to come?”

  “We’d parked on the side street. Michael wanted to smoke before we left.”

  “And Ian won’t allow me to smoke in his car so we had to stand in the rain.”

  “I thought I heard raised voices and then a cut off scream, so we went around to see what was going on.”

  “We saw him hit you so we ran closer, but you’d gotten the upper hand by then. Beating him quite soundly, I must say.”

  “It took a minute for you to register we were there. And I couldn’t leave you. T
here, I mean. It seemed you might be in shock,” Ian finished abruptly, pacing across the room to stare out the window.

  “Well, I’m grateful for both of you being there. I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t been.”

  “We’re just happy you’re alright.”

  “Is there someone you’d like to call?” Ian gestured and I followed the movement, seeing my phone resting on the low table along with my purse. The question sent a pang through me as it hit home that there was no one to call. No one who would answer the phone and come running to my rescue.

  A gentle hand wiped a stray tear from my cheek as Ian whispered, “Jane, are you alright?”

  I turned my face into his palm, unwilling to look at him as I admitted there was no one to call. I was utterly helpless at the moment, and reliant on their continued goodwill. The idea that they could throw me out in a second wearing nothing more than a borrowed bathrobe sent a shudder through me.

  “What do you mean you have no one to call? Your parents?” Michael’s clipped accent was softer as he sat down on the table in front of us, his questions gentle.

  Ian nudged my face so he could peer in my eyes.

  “Are you a runaway?”

  I choked back a laugh at the idea and swiped at the tears that continued to fall. His was a valid question. My current circumstances did seem to imply that I was a runaway, albeit an unwilling one.

  “I’m not a runaway.” I cleared my throat and forced the tears to stop. “Quite the opposite actually. I wish I could be at home right now.”

  “We’re more than willing to take you home. Please don’t think we’d keep you here.” Michael was quick to reassure me of my freedom and I nodded.

  “Unless you wish to stay. You’ve relieved my boredom quite a bit in the short time I’ve been in your presence.”

  Ian leaned back from me, striving for lighthearted humor to break the tension between us. I could still feel the heat from his hand cradling my face, and tangled my fingers together so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach for his.