Alarm

by Shay Savage

  Again.

  He lifted me into the air with no effort whatsoever and placed me on my feet. My shirt had ridden up in the process, and when he placed his hands on my sides to hold me steady, they ended up on my skin just above my jeans. He laughed.

  “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  “I’m so sorry!” I cried.

  “Then again, I’m starting to like it.” His eyes twinkled as he looked down at me.

  I was beyond flustered. Aside from the embarrassment of falling into the guy again, I was horribly distracted by the feeling of his hands on my sides. I could feel the grip of each of his long, warm fingers on my skin. He tightened his hold, and it sent a rush of sensation through my body, which focused right between my legs.

  What the hell?

  That little alarm in my head went off again, and I pushed away from him, barely stopping myself from falling backwards. I quickly straightened my shirt and steadied my footing. My heart was pounding, and my hands shook a little as I tried to regain some of my composure, failing miserably.

  “It was just an accident.” My voice sounded mousy and was was barely audible with the bar music blasting.

  “Some accidents are good,” he said.

  I narrowed my eyes as he took a fast glance down my body. My drunken embarrassment was quickly turning into something else as my heart continued to beat frantically, and my palms got a little sweaty.

  “Well, this was just your normal, everyday, bad accident.” I swallowed hard and tried to figure out if what I had said made any sense at all.

  “Well, I’ve specialized in train wrecks before,” Brick Wall informed me, “so it’s still all good from my perspective.”

  He took a half step closer to me, and I backed up and into the stool.

  “I am not a train wreck!” I heard myself say. “I’m just a little…”

  My words trailed into nothing as I contemplated what the rest of my sentence should contain. Again, I failed.

  “You’re a little cute,” Brick Wall said.

  I glared at him as my face warmed. I was in no shape for this sort of nonsense, certainly not with a guy like this.

  A guy like what?

  Alarm!

  I needed to get the heck out of there.

  “I’m a little out of here,” I said haughtily. I turned slowly so I wouldn’t lose my balance again and headed for the door.

  Brick Wall followed me.

  “Hey,” he called out, “I wasn’t trying to insult you or anything! Where are you going?”

  I didn’t turn around or respond even though I knew I was being rude by ignoring him. I still needed that fresh air—now more than ever. I shoved at the handle of the door, and inertia nearly slammed me into it. Realizing I was pushing the wrong side, I moved my hands over and tried again with much better success.

  “Hey, babe,” Brick Wall said as the door slammed shut behind him. “Really, where are you going?”

  I concentrated on navigating the steps to the parking area and continued to ignore him. From behind me, I could hear him laughing, and I didn’t like the sound of it at all. Angry and confused, I fished around in my purse until I came up with my car keys.

  “Whoa!” Brick Wall exclaimed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m going home!” I snapped back.

  “Babe, you can hardly walk,” he said. “There is no way you can drive.”

  My head swam again, and just to prove his point, I stumbled into the side of my car. A moment later, he was next to me, gently but insistently pulling the keys from my hands.

  I turned, intending to get my keys back, but found my hands pressed against his massive chest instead. I didn’t realize how close he was. With one hand right next to my head, he leaned against the car door. With the other arm extended behind him, he held my keys far from my reach.

  “Give me those,” I said. I wanted to sound strong and unafraid, like Princess Leia as she confronted Governor Tarkin, but the words came out as barely a whisper. I wanted to grab my keys from him, but his muscled and decorated arm was too intimidating.

  “No can do.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t let you go like this. Seriously, babe—you can’t drive. Let me call you a cab or something.”

  I knew he was right. I just didn’t want to be having this discussion with this guy. He didn’t belong here. He belonged at the biker bar over by the Harley store or maybe in one of those gang-banger clubs downtown.

  Did our downtown even have gang-banger clubs?

  What the hell is a gang-banger, anyway?

  Whatever it was, I was becoming increasingly sure he was one. I glanced around the parking lot, wondering if I should scream for help, but knew that would just cause a scene. He hadn’t actually done anything wrong, and hadn’t I embarrassed myself enough for one night? There wasn’t anyone else in the parking lot anyway. Most of the cars were already gone, and I wondered just how long it had been since Mare and Nate left.

  Why didn’t I get a ride with them?

  His body pressed closer to mine, and I looked up into his face again. His rough cheeks shadowed the rest of his features, and I wondered what they would feel like on my thighs.

  Good lord, Chole! What are you thinking?

  Part of me was definitely thinking that he was really, really attractive, despite being nowhere near my type. My type was the same kind of guy Mare was attracted to—guys with glasses and degrees in engineering, like Zach had been. I didn’t go for bad boys because they were…well, they were bad.

  “I don’t want a cab,” I said. I needed to get my head back on straight and wondered if a screwdriver was going to be necessary. Then I remembered that screwdrivers were what got me here in the first place. “I just want to go home.”

  “Let me drive you, then?”

  Images of me climbing onto the back of a souped-up Harley ran through my head. I’d never been on a motorcycle before, and the idea of holding on to someone and relying on my own grip to keep me from falling off the back was enough to make me shudder.

  “I’m not riding on the back of a Harley!”

  His brow furrowed.

  “Harley?” He tilted his head to one side. “I’m in a Honda.”

  A Honda? No, that didn’t fit at all.

  “You are not,” I said.

  “I’m not?” His grin returned, and his eyes sparkled in the light from the streetlamp.

  “No way.”

  “That’s what it says on the trunk,” he replied. “It’s got that little stylized ‘H’ and the word ‘Civic.’”

  “You? In a Civic?” It was my turn to laugh. There was just no way a guy that size could possibly fit through the door of such a small car.

  “Yeah, me in a Civic. What’s wrong with that?”

  “You wouldn’t fit in a Civic.”

  He tilted his head down and to the side as he chuckled.

  “Well, it’s not easy, I’ll admit.” He looked back to my face again. “It beats sleeping in the parking lot, though.”

  I didn’t know if I should believe him or not. I still couldn’t imagine him with any vehicle other than a Harley, and the image was so stuck in my head, anything else seemed ridiculous. I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders.

  “Give me my keys. I need to get home.”

  “You know I can’t do that.” Brick Wall moved his hand behind his back, and my keys disappeared into his pocket. He placed his now empty hand on the other side of my head. “Now what’s it going to be—call a cab or drive you home?”

  He was very close to me now, and the heat from his body warmed the night air between us. If he moved any closer, his body would be pressed against mine. The thought made my ears—and other parts of me—tingle with anticipation.

  I really need to sober up.

  I glanced around at the little cage he had made with his body and wondered if I could duck under him fast enough to get away. The warning in my head was getting louder, contrary to the reac
tion of my body. I was trapped, and I should have been afraid. I wanted to be afraid, but I wasn’t.

  That’s the alcohol talking again.

  I looked into his face and realized he was still waiting for my answer. Instead of giving him one, I found myself focusing on his lips at the same time I wetted my own.

  His eyes darkened slightly as they narrowed. He shifted closer, and I swallowed as the idea of his body pressed against mine became reality. He paused, watching my face closely.

  This was it. I knew exactly what he intended to do, and this was my opportunity to say no. This was my chance to just insist on going back inside and having the bartender—a guy I’d known for years—call me a cab instead being driven home by someone whose name I didn’t even know. Brick Wall might agree to give the bartender my keys while I waited for a ride.

  I didn’t move. I didn’t protest. I licked my lips again and stared up at him as he slowly lowered his head to my level. I could have pressed against his chest with my hands, but I didn’t. My elbows bent as his chest came closer to mine, pressing the backs of my hands into my breasts. As he leaned closer, I moved my palms up to his shoulders and around his neck.

  He tilted his head to the side, and his full lips met mine. All I could do was press the back of my head against the car door and let him as the feeling of being trapped by his body magnified. Again, I knew I should be frightened, but the gentle touch of his mouth on mine electrified me. Even as my chin quivered, I gripped the back of his head with my fingers to pull him closer.

  I didn’t want a gentle kiss from him. It didn’t fit any more than the idea of him driving around in a Civic. A kiss from him should be hard, fast, passionate, and rough.

  I opened my mouth slightly, and he immediately took the invitation with his tongue. I could taste beer along with mint, as if he’d been chewing gum recently. I gripped the back of his head harder, and he took the hint. The kiss deepened, quickened. His tongue went from exploring my mouth to invading it. He pushed my body against the car as he moved one of his thighs between mine, and I could feel something hard and straight through the jeans encasing my hip. My whole body throbbed but especially that spot between my legs where his thigh was pressed.

  Inside my head, a voice joined the alarm and screamed at me to stop what I was doing. I didn’t listen to it. Instead, I moved my hips forward, increasing the pressure as he moved his hand down my side and returned the favor. My God, he felt huge. All those stupid “Is that a rabbit in your pocket?” jokes flooded through my head as he pulled back for a moment, taking my lower lip between his teeth and then turned his head the other way to kiss me again.

  It was probably due to closing my eyes—maybe I should have gone with the ultimate in first-kiss faux pas and left them open—but every single drink I had consumed throughout the evening suddenly hit me at once. As his tongue entered my mouth again, I couldn’t hold back any more. I pulled my arms from around his neck and pushed his chest as hard as I could.

  He stepped back, thank God, just in time for me to turn to the side and puke on the pavement. My stomached heaved, and I gripped the handle of the car door for balance with one hand and held my hair away from my face with the other.

  Searching desperately for some object on the ground to allow me to focus and get control back, my vision blurred in the broken white lines between parking spaces. I started to fall forward, but a strong arm stopped me from hitting the pavement just as everything went dark.

  And with that, my boring existence came to an end.

  THREE

  My head felt as if there were a troupe of dancing elephants practicing their next circus routine just behind my eyes. I wanted to groan, but I was sure the sound would pierce my eardrums, so I held it in. I ached everywhere, and I was in a horribly uncomfortable position. My pillow felt like a rock against my cheek. Even when I tightened my arm around it, it didn’t give way.

  My pillow also seemed to have a distinctly musky scent to it, which I had never noticed before. In my groggy state, I wasn’t making much sense of it. The throbbing in my head urged me to go back to sleep, and I didn’t want to argue. I settled in and rubbed my cheek against the warm pillow, but something still wasn’t right.

  The scent, the feeling of the pillow on my face—it just wasn’t right. My body ached along with my head, making lucid thoughts fleeting at best. I tightened my arms around the pillow, but it didn’t give way like it normally did.

  I opened my eyes a crack and discovered my pillow was covered in tattoos.

  What the hell?

  I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat as I tried to regain enough consciousness to survey my surroundings.

  I was on a bed with the sheets drawn most of the way up my body. The bed wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even a proper bed—just a pull-out mattress from a faded couch. I was wearing nothing but my bra and panties.

  My arms and one leg were wrapped around a shirtless Brick Wall.

  Oh my God, no…

  What had I done?

  With a little shriek, I pushed myself away from Brick Wall and tried to climb off the mattress. I was tangled up in the sheet, which was tucked under the far side of Brick Wall’s decorated torso, and for a moment, my legs were trapped under it, sending a wave of panic through me.

  “Shit!”

  Flailing my arms and legs until I could disengage from the fabric, I fell on my ass next to the makeshift bed.

  “Ooof!” Shaking my pounding head to clear it, I crawled backwards a few feet on the floor as Brick Wall opened his eyes, propped himself up with one elbow, and looked down at me. The sheet covered up his lower half, so I couldn’t tell what he was wearing, if anything.

  Holding himself up with one arm made the muscles in his arm bulge. His biceps were enormous and decorated with…well, I wasn’t even sure what. I could make out words, a face, some stars, and maybe a few flowers. There was hardly any skin showing anywhere on his upper body. He was covered from his neck all the way to where the sheet was pulled up around his hips. Even the backs of his hands were covered.

  He had enough words and pictures on his body to open both an art gallery and a library.

  Tattoos weren’t my thing. I wasn’t into guys like that. I liked nice, straight-edged guys who had office jobs and drove Toyotas. Regardless, I still thought he was kind of beautiful. Though I couldn’t make out the details of the designs on his flesh, they still left the impression of telling a story—an intricate and beautiful story.

  I shook my head again to clear it. I’d had my leg wrapped around him, asleep in his bed, and I didn’t remember a damn thing after leaving the bar.

  I felt my face heating up. This was definitely at the top of the list of situations my mother always told me to avoid. I didn’t know where I was, how I got here, or even the name of the man I was sleeping with.

  Oh, God, I slept with him!

  Brick Wall smirked as I backed away on my hands and feet until I hit something on the floor—my own jacket. I grabbed it and wrapped it around my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

  “You okay?” Brick Wall asked.

  “No!” I shook my head vehemently. “No, I am not okay! This is not okay! Holy shit—I don’t do this! I never do this!”

  “Do what?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

  “This!” I yelled as I waved one hand in the air between us. The other hand kept a firm grip on the jacket against my skin.

  He wiggled his eyebrows at me as the panic I felt in my chest increased. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep myself from actually screaming.

  “Relax,” he said softly. “We didn’t do anything. You passed out thirty seconds after we got here.”

  I processed his words, felt a moment of relief and then doubt.

  “Why was I in bed with you then?” I demanded.

  Brick Wall sat up and looked pointedly around the living space, which I hadn’t actually done yet. As I did, I realized the whole place consisted of one room—a combination of a l
iving room and bedroom area along with an eat-in kitchen. There was a small, closed door off to one side, which was presumably a bathroom.

  “Where else would you fit?” he asked.

  Aside from the pull-out couch, there was only one other chair, and it wasn’t nearly big enough to sleep on. There was a card table with two chairs closer to the kitchen and a small stand with a television on top of it but no other furniture—only a suitcase with a pile of clothing in it.

  “Why am I here at all?” Somehow, I still felt wronged and needed to prove that he had done something inappropriate. Anything that would keep this from being entirely my fault would have been a blessing, but I wasn’t coming up with much. I tightened my hands into tiny fists against my chest even as I asked myself exactly what I thought I might do with them. It wasn’t as if he’d feel it if I tried to hit him.

  “Because you were trying to drive yourself home,” Brick Wall said. “I was going to call you a cab or just drive you home myself, but you couldn’t seem to remember where you lived. So, here we are.”

  I glared, trying to decide if I believed him or not. I did remember him taking my keys from me, so that part fit. Everything after that was a blur. Still, his explanation sounded reasonable, and I didn’t see any motive for him to be lying to me.

  You don’t know this guy! You have no idea if he’s telling the truth!

  “Would you have preferred it if I had left you in the parking lot to fend for yourself?”

  So much for blaming him.

  “You’re quite the cuddler,” Brick Wall said with a lopsided grin. He reached up to put his hand behind his head and leaned back. “I kept pushing you off but finally gave up.”

  Though my face heated at his words, I couldn’t deny what he was saying. I hadn’t been with anyone for nearly a year, but Zach, my ex, often accused me of trying to smother him in his sleep. Nowadays, my giant, overstuffed pillow got the same treatment.

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  “I’m just glad you didn’t puke in the apartment,” Brick Wall remarked. “I’m out in a few days, and I don’t want to forfeit the deposit, you know?”