by Ranae Rose
Kerry’s reply got stuck in her throat. She struggled to clear it so she could squeak out an explanation. She felt vaguely faint after watching Grey get four stitches – it’d been the anesthetic needle that’d freaked her out, not the actual suturing – and the implication that she and Grey were together added to her nervousness. “Yes, and even if I didn’t, we don’t live together. We’re just friends.”
Something about saying the phrase ‘just friends’ made her feel juvenile, though it was the truth, plain and simple.
“Oh. I thought you were a couple.” The doctor frowned. “Well, he should have a friend stay with him overnight, or vice versa.”
Kerry turned to Grey, who sat on an exam table, towering over her and the doctor, who’d sunk down onto a stool. “I could call Liam and Henry, see if either one of them is available.”
“I happen to know they’re both very busy tonight,” Grey said, with an eye roll Kerry didn’t really understand. “They’ve both got work tomorrow anyway. Don’t bother – I’ll be fine.”
“If you don’t have anyone who can stay with you,” the doctor said, “we should admit you for overnight observation. So—”
“It’s just a bump on the head. I don’t want to stay overnight for that.”
Out in the hall, a custodian had arrived with a huge cart of cleaning supplies, no doubt to attend to what remained of Grey’s taco lunch.
“He’s right – he shouldn’t have to stay the night here,” she hurried to say, sensing a battle of wills between Grey and the doctor. “Grey, you can stay at my place for the night.”
Several seconds of deep silence were punctuated by the faint, squeaking noise of a mop against tile.
“Great,” the doctor said. “Problem solved.”
It took Grey longer to reply, but when he did, his voice echoed through the exam room and out into the hall. “Really?”
“I got you into this situation,” she replied. “The least I can do is keep an eye on you until things settle down. It’s no big deal.”
It felt like a big deal though. No one else had ever spent the night at her little two-bedroom rental. Not that she’d expected anyone to – in fact, she’d converted the second bedroom into a little yoga studio.
“Thanks,” he said, his gaze locking with hers. His eyes looked clearer than they had since the disaster at jiu-jitsu. “It would’ve sucked to spend the night here.”
Her smile was genuine, even if she was tingling all over with a weird combination of nerves and completely inappropriate giddiness. The realization left her vaguely embarrassed, but the idea of Grey spending the night at her place was strangely exciting, no matter what the circumstances.
“What are friends for?” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, like the idea of him staying overnight didn’t faze her.
He didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on her eyes, and for one exhilarating, horrifying moment, she got the feeling that he was looking right through her, seeing all the things she could never bring herself to say.
CHAPTER 5
Kerry’s house was insanely clean. Grey didn’t usually notice stuff like that, but it was impossible not to. It looked like a tiny model house out of a magazine; there was no clutter anywhere, nothing out of place. As she closed and locked the door behind them, he crossed the small living room and sank down onto the couch.
It was a faux-suede love seat, and from its cushions he could see a neat kitchen and a hall that he guessed led back to her bedroom and the bathroom.
He couldn’t believe he was inside her house. And staying the night, on top of it. Getting a face full of sweaty guy foot was turning out to be the best thing that’d happened to him in a hell of a long time. Was it weird to have a concussion and a semi at the same time?
Because as he watched Kerry double-lock the front door and slip off her sandals, he got halfway hard.
“Thanks again for letting me stay over,” he said, as if being polite would make up for the fact that he was imagining stripping her out of her jean shorts.
“Go ahead and lie down,” she said. “I’ll get you a drink. What would you like?”
“Water would be great.” He felt guilty, letting her wait on him. But he was pretty thirsty, now that he thought about it, and after puking up half a dozen of Wilmington’s finest tacos in front of her, his new strategy was to move as little as possible and hope nothing else came up.
While she was in the kitchen, he laid back on the couch, trying to get comfortable. Considering that he was nearly twice as long as the two-cushion loveseat, it was easier said than done. He was still wriggling around with his legs jutting off one end when she walked into the room.
“Oh. Damn. I didn’t realize…” She sounded upset.
“Did you want me to take my shoes off?”
“No, it’s not that. I just didn’t realize how tiny the couch was compared to you. I’d figured you could sleep there, but obviously that’d be ridiculous.”
“I can make it work. Don’t worry about it.” He accepted the glass of ice water she handed to him. “Thanks.”
“No way. You can sleep in my bed.”
His heart jolted and soared, and he got a little harder.
“I’ll take the couch,” she continued. “I’ll fit just fine.”
And just like that, his heart sank right back down where it belonged.
Of course, he was being an idiot. No part of him had really thought that he and Kerry would wind up in the same room together that night, let alone the same bed. But her words had set off an instant, automatic reaction fueled by a summer’s worth of fantasies and some serious wishful thinking.
“I appreciate it,” he said, “but I can’t take your bed. I’ll be fine out here.”
What did she wear to bed? It was still too hot to wear much of anything. Maybe nothing at all? He couldn’t help but wonder. His head still felt a little fuzzy, but when he imagined her and what she might – or might not – wear to sleep, his powers of concentration took an amazing turn for the better.
“No, the doctor said you need to get plenty of rest. You’re definitely taking my bed. Don’t argue – you’re supposed to rest your brain, remember?”
His brain was busy feverishly imagining her sans-clothing, but he had enough sense not to admit it, even if he did have a concussion. “Fine. But I owe you – I’ll make it up to you sometime. Buy you dinner.”
Had he really just said that? Well… He dared to meet her eyes, hoping his proposal wouldn’t go the way of his recent sunset viewing invitation.
She was giving him a strange look. “You don’t owe me anything. It was my bright idea that ended up with you in the hospital. Anyway, I’ll go put a fresh set of sheets on the bed for you.”
He bit his tongue before he could tell her not to, to just leave the sheets that probably smelled like her.
Somehow, he drifted off in the span of the few minutes she was gone. He realized he’d fallen asleep when the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floor snapped him back into wakefulness.
“You’d better get to bed.”
He stood up, felt dead on his feet. The fatigue had come out of nowhere, and suddenly, the day felt incredibly long. Had he really tried on his jacked-up tux and gorged himself on tacos earlier in the day? All that felt like it’d happened weeks ago, at least.
He stretched, and his muscles twinged in protest. Kerry had been right – jiu-jitsu hadn’t just kicked his face, but his ass. Not that he was going to admit that to her.
The movement left him lightheaded, and he steadied himself with a hand against the back of the couch.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, tinged with audible worry.
“Fine.” His head throbbed beneath the ridiculous bandage they’d stuck on him at the ER. “I’m going to look like an idiot at the wedding this weekend though.” The thought struck him and just tumbled out; he was too tired to have a filter.
“I’m sure Liam and Alicia will understand. Accidents happe
n.”
“I’m not worried about them. There was this bridesmaid I wanted to impress, though.”
“Who – Alicia’s cousin?”
He was pretty sure she was joking, but the fog of exhaustion made it hard to be 100% certain.
“Not hardly. I don’t want to name names, but her initials are Kerry Harlow. I’ve made an ass out of myself in front of her quite a few times, so the wedding was my chance to turn things around. You know, be all sophisticated and dashing.”
She placed a hand on his arm, pushed him toward the hall. For her size, she was pretty strong. “I guess that’ll be pretty hard to pull off with a gauze pad stuck to the side of your head, but I have faith in you.”
* * * * *
It took Kerry forever to fall asleep. Not because the couch was uncomfortable – she hardly noticed that. No, it was her conscience that made it hard to get any rest. Forget her guilt over getting Grey kicked in the head – that was nothing compared to the shame that hit her when she admitted to herself how much she liked having him at her house.
He wanted to impress her – she couldn’t believe he’d said that, even if he had sustained a head injury. He’d stunned her when he’d said it, and even now, she reeled at the thought of a guy like Grey being so concerned about what she thought.
Old habits died hard, but old ways of thinking were even harder to get rid of. As much as she liked to think she’d changed over the past three years, the fact that Grey – basically the ideal man – was into her still seemed too good to be true, sometimes.
But that wasn’t why she’d been so unintentionally hot and cold with him. The problem was that she really did want to explore the attraction between them. Wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything, but…
There were no possibilities to accompany the attraction. Not serious ones, and she didn’t know how to do casual or fun or hook-ups or whatever people called that sort of thing. Didn’t want to, because she just didn’t have it in her, even if she did wonder what it might be like to be that free.
But her capacity to have something real with someone had been utterly destroyed years ago. Grey was amazing, but she wasn’t good for anyone. Couldn’t be. Someone had seen to that a long time ago.
She had a certain degree of freedom now, but it was a solitary independence: there was no real possibility of sharing her life with someone else.
She needed to be clear about that with Grey. She owed him that. And as she lay alone in the dark with him just down the hall, she vowed to set things straight in the morning.
Still, when she fell asleep, she dreamed of him. Her subconscious mind didn’t care about what was right or wrong or even impossible. For a few hours, she got to live the kind of life she might’ve had with Grey or someone like him, if everything had been different.
* * * * *
Kerry awoke to the sounds of sizzling and popping. The noise jump-started her heart, sent pain slicing sharp and sudden through her chest like a knife. She jerked, dug her fingers into the couch cushions, tried to breathe deeply.
She drew air in shallow pants instead. Couldn’t help it, especially not after she detected the smell of smoke.
Oh, God. Smoke. It was real, no fading dream or passing memory. The faster she breathed, the more she drew in, until it was all she could smell, all she could think about.
Her house was on fire. Just like Wisteria, just like Alicia’s house. The realization was the manifestation of a hundred nightmares, and yet, it still felt unreal.
Just like things had when Wisteria had gone up in flames, when Sasha had nearly died because Kerry had tried and failed to lift her out of the burning basement. Coupled with the smoke, the memory was more vivid than ever, cripplingly real.
Kerry couldn’t move, couldn’t get off the couch to save her own life.
She screamed.
“Fuck!” A male voice echoed through her house.
Her mind whirled even faster, her thoughts spinning into hysterical territory. The more she panted, the more smoke she breathed in, and the more terrified she became.
She didn’t know whether to ask herself how this was happening, or how she’d been spared such a fate for so long. Either way, her world was crumbling around her and she—
“Kerry?” Footsteps shook the floorboards, reverberating in her small house like thunder.
Grey. All at once, she remembered: the night before, the reason he was in her house. A split second of relief quickly turned sour, amplifying her fear. It was no use being glad they were both in the same boat if that boat was on fire.
“What’s wrong?” He came crashing into the living room in jeans and a t-shirt, wearing that gauze pad like a crooked crown.
It took Kerry an eternity to find her voice. “Don’t you smell the smoke?”
CHAPTER 6
Kerry’s hands trembled against the cushions, and her nails ached from being pressed into them.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. I suck at cooking.”
Several more silent seconds dragged by, like the last grains of sand in an hourglass.
“What?”
“I, uh, couldn’t find any butter in your kitchen. So I used some olive oil. To fry bacon. There’s a lot of smoke.”
Slowly, the fog of terror lifted from Kerry’s mind. All too quickly, it was replaced by an overwhelming sense of mortification.
“You’re making bacon?”
“Uh, yeah. About that. I hope you like it crispy. It was kinda hard to cook.”
She was no longer panicking, but a bitter taste remained on the back of her tongue and every heartbeat hurt. “It’s turkey bacon.”
“Yeah? I guess that explains it. Kerry…”
“What?”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re freaking out?”
Mortification hit her like a physical blow, rattling her consciousness. “I woke up and smelled smoke, heard the bacon crackling… I thought the house was on fire.”
Silence amplified her embarrassment.
“I was trying to surprise you,” Grey eventually said, speaking slowly, as if he’d carefully considered every word. “God, not like that though – with breakfast.”
That was nice of you. Thanks. How thoughtful. Appropriate responses cycled through Kerry’s mind, overabundant, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice any of them.
“Sorry,” he said.
His apology broke the spell of her speechlessness. “No need to apologize – you were just trying to do something nice. Not your fault I took a little dive off the deep end.”
“Yeah, it is. After what happened at Wisteria, no one could blame you. I just wasn’t thinking. I could’ve at least opened a window.”
His words made her chest feel too tight, though at the same time, it was a relief that he understood.
“First Liam’s house and then Wisteria – I’ve been afraid it would happen again ever since. That someone might – you know, set my house on fire.”
The words tumbled out, and God, did they sound ridiculous when she spoke them out loud. This was it, the big moment of truth: Grey was going to realize what a basket case she was, and then she could kiss spontaneous, fun and sexy games of chicken at the beach goodbye.
And still, the fear she’d been living with was unbearably vivid. Rising from the depths of unconsciousness to be greeted by the smell of burning, the scent of her own home being transformed from a safe haven into a raging deathtrap – it was something she dreaded, something that still frightened her, when she let herself think about it.
“The Levinsons are gone,” Grey said, still speaking slowly, apparently choosing his words in deference to her now-obvious craziness. “Both of them. Who else would do something like that?”
The answer was painfully clear to her, a bolt of if only you knew that hit hard and went deep, chilling the very core of her.
She kept her mouth firmly shut.
A broad smile spread across Grey’s face. “I’ll have you know that over at Riley, we’re
not as bad at our jobs as some people seem to think. None of those sorry bastards are getting out. Biggest danger you have to worry about in Cypress now is probably a stray dog, or maybe that gator where you work.”
“Brutus.” The enormous reptile inspired zero fear in Kerry. Unlike people, animals – especially gators – usually looked more menacing than they actually were, so long as you gave them the space they deserved. It was refreshing.
“Yeah, him.” Grey was still grinning. “You might not have much faith in us after what happened this summer, but—”
“It’s not that.” It really wasn’t. The Levinson brothers’ escape had been a freak thing, the only one the Riley Correctional Center had ever seen. And it hadn’t even occurred within prison walls – the convicts had made an unlikely run for it when a prison transportation bus had broken down. “I don’t mind living near the prison, and I know you’re good at your job.”
He was a member of PERT – Riley’s prison emergency response team – so she knew he was among the best of the prison’s correctional officers. It was a distinction that had earned him hours of searching the county in heavy gear during the brutal heat that past summer.
Grey nodded, seemingly mollified by her faith in his work. The barest hint of amusement struck Kerry, though she was still overwhelmingly embarrassed.
“Guess it’s just too soon after everything that happened for me to surprise-cook turkey bacon for anyone,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be cooking anyway.” With her fear under control, she was suddenly aware of how ridiculous it was that Grey had been cooking. “You’re supposed to be resting. What were you thinking?”
“I just wanted to say thank you – you know, return the favor. I would’ve been stuck in the hospital all night if not for you. You saved my bacon. Pun intended.”