A Steel Heart (Heart #2)

by Amie Knight

  She’d fucking be here. She wouldn’t let me down.

  I had seen a man come over to her apartment last night. I guess some women might say he was good-looking in that young, hipster ridiculous kind of way. He had dark hair and light eyes covered by thick, dark framed glasses. He hadn’t looked like Mae’s type, but maybe he was. Maybe he was up there now. Maybe he’d spent the night with my Mae. Maybe they were cuddled up together in her bed just on the other side of my wall, exhausted after a night of hard fucking.

  I saw red at the thought of that. I’d kill him. Jesus Christ. What in the hell was wrong with me? But she was fifteen minutes late.

  She was coming.

  After pacing back and forth in front of the building waiting for her way longer than a sane man would, I finally pulled my wallet out of my running pants and opened it up. I pulled my cell phone from another pocket, found Miranda Mae’s Editing card, and typed her number for the very first time into my phone.

  I’d resisted the urge up until that point, but it looked like today was the day.

  Me: Where are you?!

  And then I paced for another minute until I got an answer.

  Mae: Who is this?

  She couldn’t fucking be serious. Who the hell else would be messaging her at this hour?

  Me: Holden. You got any other men expecting your presence at eight am?

  That hipster fucker better not be in her apartment.

  Mae: Sorry, Hold. I can’t make our walk today.

  No, she didn’t. It was too little, too late. What in the hell was going on? She never bailed on me.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I was slamming the door to our building open and marching up the steps. I dared that asshole to be in that apartment with my girl at every step.

  Pounding on Mae’s door, I tried to rein in my temper, but the longer I knocked the more pissed off I got.

  But maybe she wasn’t home? Maybe she’d had some kind of family emergency. Maybe she needed me. And then I really started to freak the fuck out.

  My phone made the texting notification from my hand, so I looked at it.

  Mae: Go away, Holden.

  What the fuck? All of the insecurities I’d felt minutes ago when Mae hadn’t shown up came back full force. Only I decided right then and there that if she was disgusted by me, if she didn’t want to be my friend anymore, she’d tell me to my fucking face. I wouldn’t be ignored, and she better hope that hipster glasses wearing motherfucker wasn’t in there when I finally saw her.

  I pressed my fingers to the keyboard on my phone harder than I should have, but I couldn’t believe this shit. What in the hell was going on?

  Me: Open this fucking door right now before I knock it the fuck down.

  There! I didn’t think I could put it any fucking plainer. Jesus, I was on a roll and apparently off my fucking rocker.

  Ten seconds passed. It felt like ten minutes, but I eventually heard the sound of a lock turning.

  The door opened, just barely a crack and the chain was still attached at the top. One of Mae’s caramel-colored eyes pressed against the crack.

  “How can I help you, Holden?” she rasped out. She didn’t seem pleased to see me. Her voice sounded terrible.

  I tried to push the door open on instinct, but it wouldn’t open because of the chain. I needed to make sure she was okay. “Are you sick?” I asked and I knew it sounded accusatory, but I couldn’t help it. She wasn’t telling me shit and it was driving me crazy.

  “Yes, now go away.” Every word sounded forced out and croaky, and I nearly lost my mind. How could I check and see if she was okay if she wouldn’t let me see her? If she wouldn’t open this godforsaken door.

  “Undo the chain,” I demanded and Mae’s eye narrowed through the crack.

  That eye screamed, “Never! You can’t make me!” and I knew my work was cut out for me.

  “No.” Her mouth agreed with her eye.

  And I knew right then and there I had to change tactics because I’d come to the conclusion over the past weeks we’d been friends that Mae liked to challenge me and she really liked to win. The more disagreeable I was, the more stubborn she became. It was time to try something new.

  I stepped back from the door, so I’d be less imposing. I tried my hardest to school my features although I knew that wasn’t my strong suit. I knew I looked perpetually pissed off. And it made sense because most of the time I was.

  I laid my hand right next to the crack in the door. “Mae, baby. Let me in so I can check on you, please,” I said softly, as sweetly as I fucking could, even throwing in a please like a gentleman would.

  On the outside I may have looked like a big teddy bear, but on the inside I was planning on how I was going to break that fucking chain without hurting her if she didn’t open the damn door.

  But it turned out, Mae was a sucker for sweet Holden because she let out a deep breath before closing the door. I heard the rattle of the chain before the door opened again. Still with that damn crack.

  “See, I’m fine. I just need to sleep it off. I’ll be back to our walks in no time.” She tried to smile, but I could tell it was forced and her voice was still so incredibly bad.

  And no, I couldn’t see a damn thing because she was still trying to keep me out.

  I told myself that what I was about to do was for her own good and not for my peace of mind when in truth it was the latter.

  I pushed the door open with my shoulder and muscled past her.

  She let out a sigh as I swept past. “Sure, Hold. Come on in. God knows this isn’t the first time you’ve come into my home uninvited.”

  I immediately felt bad. About the first time I came in. Not this time. I didn’t feel bad at all about that shit.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was having a shitty day,” I said, looking around her apartment for the first time ever. Last time I’d been too pissed off to take a look around. I’d been in a lot of pain that day and then I’d fallen over the groceries she’d left between our two front doors. It was taking a lot longer to get used to my prosthetic leg than I thought it would. I’d done a lot of hard shit in my life, but this had to have been the hardest—losing my leg, being disabled, getting used to walking on a stick of metal instead of my own flesh and blood.

  I was busy noting that Mae wasn’t really a good housekeeper when she spoke.

  “What’s your excuse today?”

  And that’s when I really looked at her for the first time. She was still wearing the T-shirt she’d worn on yesterday’s walk. Her hair was still in that knot at the top of her head. She had deep dark circles under her eyes and she was leaning against the closed front door I’d just pushed my way through. I ignored all of the paper and books that were everywhere and walked toward her.

  “Fuck, you look like shit,” I said, placing my hands on her cheeks.

  She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips before saying, “You sure know how to sweet talk a girl. Are you trying to get in my pants, Holden? You’re gonna have to come harder than that with the compliments.”

  “You’re burning up, Mae,” I accused her. Mad as hell that she was joking and not taking better care of herself when she knew she was sick.

  “That’s more like it, baby. Tell me how hot I am again,” she wheezed and pulled out of my grasp before heading to the couch and flopping down on it.

  “Go home. I’m fine. Let me wallow in my sickness alone. This is embarrassing.” She covered her head with a pillow from the couch and moaned into it and that’s when I realized she wasn’t wearing any pants.

  My brain knew how sick Mae was, but my dick didn’t give a fuck. He immediately sprang into action. It seemed lately if Mae was around, so was a significant hard-on.

  “Where are your pants?” I shouted a little louder than I intended.

  She pulled the pillow off her face long enough to look at me and narrow her eyes before covering her face again and answering. “It’s my policy. The no pants policy. And this is my
apartment. So if you don’t like my policies, you should leave.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “You have a policy that you don’t wear pants when you’re at home?”

  “Correct,” she confirmed.

  “I should stop by more often,” I mumbled as I made my way over to her couch. I put my arms under her thighs and neck and lifted her.

  “Oh my God. What the heck are you doing? Put me down, crazy man. I can walk,” she argued, but she stayed still and let me carry her to her room, which looked mostly like mine except it was a disaster. Clothes were everywhere. Paper. Books here and there, too.

  I set her down on the edge of the bed and kneeled down in front of her. I placed my hands on her thighs and rubbed, trying to soothe her but only managing to drive my cock even crazier than it was already.

  “Have you taken anything? For the fever?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Adrian brought me medicine and dinner last night, but I haven’t felt much like eating. I think I missed a dose of medicine this morning, though. I slept in.”

  “Adrian?” Was that the asshole I saw going up to her apartment last night? Who the hell was he?

  Her body swayed a little and I grabbed her around the shoulders, steadying her.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Remember? He and Ainsley are my best friends.”

  Oh, that’s right. She’d told me about the engaged couple who were expecting soon. I felt a tension uncoil inside of me that I didn’t realize was even there. She didn’t have a man over last night. Not the way I thought, anyhow.

  Mae pushed my hands away and flopped back on the bed. Her blue T-shirt rode up even farther and I cursed under my breath. She was gonna fucking kill me, this woman-girl who didn’t realize what she did to me with her body. With her personality. With her snarky wit and sweet eyes. She was a lethal combination and completely fucking clueless.

  “Go back to your apartment, Holden. I’d be embarrassed how I stink right now, but I’m too sick. So, for the love of God, go home and pretend this never happened.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” I didn’t like the idea of her calling some other man when she felt ill. I wanted to be the one she depended on.

  “Oh, God, you’re not leaving, are you? And how would I call you? I don’t have your number,” she groaned out and rolled over onto her stomach, planting her face in a pillow but her exquisitely round ass right in the air. Fuck me.

  Pink lace panties. Why’d they have to be lace? Why’d they have to be so scant? Why’d they have to be riding up over one ass cheek?

  She rolled just her head to face me and gave me her narrowed eyes again. They didn’t help the whole dick situation.

  “How’d you get my number, anyway?”

  I shrugged. “Your Miranda Mae’s Editing card.”

  She buried her face in the pillow again. I thought I heard a muffled, “That freaking card.”

  She wanted me to leave, I knew. But there was absolutely no way in hell I was going anywhere while she was this sick. She needed someone to take care of her and I knew her bitch of a mother wouldn’t be stopping by any time soon to coddle her.

  “Come on, Mae. Let’s get you a cool shower. You got a thermometer around here?” I picked her up again and carried her to the bathroom, with only a slight twinge in my leg. I closed the lid to the toilet and sat her on it, her body immediately slouched over.

  “I couldn’t find one,” she said, her eyes closed.

  She was beyond pathetic and exhausted. Whatever the hell she had, it was taking it out of her.

  I turned on the shower and made sure the water was lukewarm, hoping it would cool her off some.

  “Do you think you can take a shower alone or do you need my help?”

  Please, dear God, don’t let her need my help. I’d handle it if I needed to, but it would be pure torture getting her naked and wet.

  Her eyes snapped open. “No way. Get out.” She pointed toward the door and then gestured toward her body. “You ain’t ready for all of this, Steel.”

  Fuck, she was adorable even when she felt like death. I almost smiled. Almost. Instead, I grabbed her cheeks again, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I’m gonna run next door to my place and get a thermometer and a few things. Take a shower. I’ll be back in a few.”

  She blew out a breath and her eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Yes, Daddy.”

  I raised my own eyebrows and said blankly, “Kinky.”

  “You still got jokes, Holden Steel.” She smiled despite how sick she was. And the truth was I kinda loved making her smile. Lately, I was living for it.

  My Favorite Lists

  The One

  Favorite Books

  Places I Want To Visit

  My teeth chattered. My head pounded. My skin somehow felt frozen solid and white hot all at once. I was going to freeze to death. I was going to burn up. I was going to die. I didn’t think I’d ever been this sick in my life.

  I moaned and rolled over, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. “Oh, God, kill me now.”

  A hand cradled the back of my head and sat me up some. I jumped, startled at someone else’s presence in my room and then I remembered Holden was here and apparently wasn’t ever leaving.

  “You can’t die. I like you.” He tapped my lips with what felt like one of his fingers. “Open,” he demanded.

  And when I did, he dropped two pills in my mouth and then pressed a glass of water to my lips.

  “You like me,” I immediately accused after taking a sip of water.

  “Drink it all, now. I don’t want you getting dehydrated.” He ignored my comment. His voice sounded raspy and tired, and I felt guilty for keeping him up. I didn’t know why, but for some reason he had returned yesterday after I’d showered with a thermometer, cold medicine, Ibuprofen, and a couple of cans of soup. He’d taken my temperature, given me meds, and ordered me to bed while he’d made me chicken noodle soup from the can. We’d eaten our soup side by side in my bed. Me under the covers, Holden over. He’d taken our bowls to the kitchen and ordered me to sleep. The meds and the soup proved the perfect cocktail because I’d passed out. Until now.

  I didn’t take Holden for the caregiver type, but maybe I was wrong. It felt like he was always surprising me. It may not seem like a lot to some people, but no one had ever taken care of me like that when I’d been sick. So, last night meant a heck of a lot to me. I just couldn’t believe he was still there.

  “I’m freezing,” I chattered out. I felt like I was cold all the way to my bones. I pulled the covers up to my eyeballs, but it didn’t seem to help at all. The bed dipped as Holden moved in and closer to me.

  Holden placed his hand to my forehead and grunted. “Fuck, you’re hot again.”

  “No,” I mumbled. “Freezing.” I burrowed closer to him and sighed. He was warm and solid.

  He froze for a minute, but I was so sick and so cold, I didn’t care. He was hot and I was freezing. That was all that mattered.

  “You like me, you said so.” I scooted over and pushed him all the way back on my mattress and practically crawled on top of him as I pressed most of my left side to his body. The palm of my hand met the smooth, hot skin over his abs where his shirt had ridden up and I groaned. “Yes, feels good.”

  And I wasn’t talking about the sexiest stomach I’d ever felt in my life. He was blissfully warm. I ran my hand up that stomach and only stopped when it was right in the center of his chest so most of the underside of my arm was pressed against him.

  Eventually Holden relaxed and wrapped his arms around me. I still shivered even pressed against him.

  “It’s okay,” he cooed, running his hands up and down my back over my T-shirt. “I got you.”

  “Mmmm,” I hummed, getting warmer by the second. I buried my nose in one of his pecs and breathed out in relief.

  “How old are you, Miranda Mae?” Holden husked and I lifted my face just enough to catch his eyes and I smiled. Because Holden Steel was giving me sex eyes. He was giv
ing me hot as sin sex eyes and I looked like complete absolute crap. But who could blame him? I had practically climbed him like a tree.

  “Why? Wanna make sure I’m legal before you do all the naughty things to me?” I fired back, teasing him. I was sick. I wasn’t dead. My sass was still in full effect. And so was my libido for that matter. Maybe the cold medicine was getting to me, but I snuggled in further, throwing my leg over Holden’s but being careful to avoid his prosthesis on the other side. I didn’t really want to tell him my age. I knew he had to be in his early thirties and Holden seemed like the type to shy away from hanging with a girl in her early twenties. Still, I answered.

  “Twenty-two.”

  All I got in response was a rub on the back and a quietly uttered, “Hmm.”

  “I get the romance books everywhere, but what’s with all the paper?” he asked next.

  I gave up trying to look at his eyes. My head was too heavy, so I laid it back on his chest and Holden rewarded me with another long stroke of my back.

  I wanted to purr like a cat but instead said, “Are we playing twenty questions?”

  He harrumphed before answering, “No, I’m just curious about you.”

  I liked that he was curious about me. I rubbed my hand across his chest, enjoying his smooth, hot skin beneath my hand. My fingertip grazed over one of his nipples and he hissed a breath that I felt right at my core. And if I hadn’t been too sick to lift my head, I would have straddled that man and ridden him all the way to dang town.

  “Lists. I told you I like to make lists.”

  “I had no idea how much you liked it. They’re everywhere,” he said into the dark room.

  “They calm me.” And they did. When I was nervous, scared, upset, I made lists and some of the time they didn’t make a lick of sense and served no other purpose than to make me feel better.

  “What’s your favorite one?”

  “That’s easy,” I whispered, moving my hand down and rubbing it across his abs again, grazing the top of the waistband to his pants. Goose bumps pebbled his skin. And I felt light-headed. Like I was in a dream instead of in bed with the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.