“C’mon, chief. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Chief,” he snorted. “I like that. Way better thanasshole.”
She snatched up the covers, and he slid beneath them with aloud sigh. She uncapped the Gatorade and handed it to him. Propped on an elbow,he chugged half the bottle and passed it back to her, then flopped his head onthe pillow with a moan. He blinked a few times and looked at her as if seeingher for the first time, his eyes a muddy combination of green and brown. Like aLouisiana bayou—something she’d seen in pictures but never in person. Ishould go there sometime, maybe take in New Orleans during Mardi—
“I love you, Natalie Amber Eyes.”
What? Her heart slammed against her rib cage.Acrobats flipped and tumbled in her stomach as she stared at the hot mess of aman in her bed. Is he talking to me?
Natalie Amber Eyes. Even bet he was talking to her.
Pulse racing furiously, she finally found her voice, and itcarried an outrage she wasn’t feeling at the moment. Besides stirred up, shewasn’t sure what she felt. “Seriously, T.J.?”
His face creased, and he dragged a hand across his stubblyjaw, then covered his eyes.
Man, that scruff! Did he do that just for his datetonight? Like, he started growing the damn beard three days ago to impress her?Natalie’s heart caved a little as she recalled the slinky little blond—whosesickly perfume wafted from Tyler’s clothes and skin.
Ugh.
In a rumbling slur, his voice sliced through the fog of herthoughts like a lighthouse beacon. “Jesus Christ on a fucking cracker, I’m inlove with you, and I sure as shit don’t want to be.” He gulped a breath. “Butyou won’t get off the fucking pedestal.”
Her mouth dropped open. Thank God his hand still covered hiseyes. Am I dreaming? All thoughts of sexy blond date forgotten, shetried to process his dizzying words.
I’m in love with you, and I sure as shit don’t want tobe. A far cry from a romantic declaration, she told herself. More like akiss followed by a slap. How did one respond to that? Um, thank you? Asfor the pedestal comment, she had no idea.
“Gatorade’s right here, and I’m on the couch if you needme.” She pushed an errant curl off his forehead. His hair was thick and soft.
“Mmm, that’s nice.” He sank intoher mattress.
He’d really said he loved her, hadn’t he?
Before Hailey Hormones had her curling up next to him, she clickedoff the bedside lamp and squeezed the door shut on her way to the couch. Herphone droned on her coffee table like a lethargic, overloaded bumblebee.
Gage: TJ behaving himself?
Natalie: No choice. Sick as a dog.
Gage: About that. You still want me to get him tonight?
Her brain stopped for a tick, like an electrical blip—onethat lasted just long enough to make you reset every digital clock in yourhome.
Natalie: Maybe best to leave him. Transporting him mightkill him.
Gage: Ok. Good.
Natalie: Thank you. You’re a good friend.
Gage: So are you.
She set the phone down and smiled. For a guy she’d judgedirredeemable, a lot of nice people liked T.J.
.~* * * ~.
Natalie startled awake, proppedagainst couch cushions, pillow in her lap. It was pitch-black outside, lightfiltering from Keanu and Winona, who were still frozen but in different poses.So she’d advanced to a new scene. Progress.
Facing her from the depths of an armchair, still clad inonly knit boxers, T.J. Shanstrom fixed his eyes onher like a locked-and-loaded laser weapon.
“Omigod!” she yelped. “You scaredthe shit out of me.”
He straightened and put his hands up, which did wonders toexpose his bare chest, shoulders, and stomach. “Sorry. Don’t shoot.”
She gusted out a breath. “Sorry seems to be yourfavorite word lately.”
“I have a lot to be sorry for.”
She was in his gun sights, though she had little clue whatthoughts lurked behind his penetrating gaze. Is he sober? Less drunk atleast?
“I, uh, was gonna call a ride and getthe hell out of your life, but I can’t find my phone or my clothes.” His deeptimbre was a tad muzzy.
She crossed her arms, and her sweater slid down her arm. Themovement seemed to break his focus because his eyes immediately darted to hershoulder, then to her chest, where it lingered. As if remembering himself, his gaze shot back up to hers. She yanked thesweater up her arm, but it merely slipped down again. “Where’d you leave Ford?”
“At Katie’s.”
“She didn’t tell me.” Something poked at her. A pang of jealousy? “Phone’s charging on the kitchencounter, and your clothes are hanging in the bathroom. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live. I’ll just get my stuff and go before I embarrassmyself further. Thanks for the Gatorade and …” He motioned vaguely toward thebedroom.
She shrugged. “What are friends for?”
His watery eyes seemed to light up a notch on the brightnessscale. “We’re friends?”
Off guard, sleep-relaxed, yet taut as a fully-extendedbungee-jump cord, she gave in to reflex and nodded. “For now. And this friendsays you should climb back in bed.” She flipped her hand at him as if shooinghim away.
He shook his head gingerly. “That’s your bed. I’lltake the couch.”
She looked him up and down, thencast a glance at her couch. “You don’t fit. I barely fit.”
He dropped his head in his hands. “Which is why I shouldgo.”
Clicking off the TV, she rose from the couch, took one ofhis hands in hers, and tugged. “I don’t think so. C’mon.”
“Where are we going?”
“The bed’s big enough for both of us. You can sleep there aslong as you keep your hands—and other body parts—to yourself.” What in theactual hell am I doing? Letting “I love you, Natalie AmberEyes” run roughshod over me. Sap.
He trudged after her, huffing, “My body’s barely functioningas it is. I don’t think you’re in any danger.”
She wriggled out of her jeans and yanked the sweater overher head, leaving her in black cami and boy shorts,while he stood motionless on the
