I shouldn’t answer his call. Not with the way I was feeling, and I didn’t want to end up saying something I would regret later.
I should reject the call. Or just wait it out.
I didn’t even realize I had answered the call until I had my phone held up to my ear.
“Emilia?” Jensen said on the other end when I took too long to answer.
I swallowed the lump hanging around my throat for dear life before I cleared my throat a bit and answered him. “Jensen. Hey. What’s up?”
He was quiet on the other end for a beat before saying, “What’s wrong?”
My lips trembled, but I held it in. “What makes you think anything is wrong?”
“Emilia.”
I didn’t know what his tone meant, and I was at a disadvantage when I couldn’t see his face to gauge his emotions. Not that I had been very good at it before, but it was something, at least.
“What?” I tried to sound harsh. Or confident. Instead, I could hear my voice wavering, and I knew he heard it too.
“Where are you right now?”
“Me? I’m inside my apartment building.”
“Good. Stay there. I’ll be right over soon.”
He hung up before I could even reply.
What the hell?
I didn’t have to wait very long. Fifteen minutes later, a slightly damp Jensen walked through the doors, shaking off some of the moisture from his hair. For a second, I had the fanciful thought that maybe he had walked out of my dreams.
He obviously was at work when he’d called me. He was still in his fitted business suit, and his navy-blue tie. His suit was black, and I thought the color did wonders for his skin. His hair was a shade darker than normal from the moisture, his olive skin had a slight flush to it, and his gray eyes were bright.
He found me sitting by the stairs right away.
His face didn’t give way to his feelings, and it didn’t take him very long to assess the situation. His eyes moved briefly to the elevator door, seeing the Out of Service sign before moving back to me. The determined look on his face turned his gray eyes silver. He walked over to me, and without saying another word, grabbed my groceries and held the bag out for me to take.
Wordlessly, I took it from his hands, and then he surprised me when he lifted me up in his arms. I let out an embarrassing small squeak, which I quickly tried to cover with a cough, and clung to him. Our eyes met and held, and then he surely, steadily made his way up the stairs.
I knew he could feel the hard metal of my prosthetic leg, but I didn’t have time to worry about that now, not when he was holding me so close to his body, and especially not when I was on the verge of breaking down.
I didn’t want to break down in front of him.
He didn’t let me down when he got to the front door like I’d thought he would, instead cocking his head to the side.
“Unlock the door, sweetheart.”
I wasn’t his sweetheart, I wanted to say. I didn’t. I did as he asked and unlocked the door, pushing it open. Jensen walked through the door and deposited me on the sofa. I looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at me.
“I’ll make you some tea to warm up,” he muttered absently, grabbing the grocery bag out of my arms.
I watched him straighten to his full height before he walked over to my tiny kitchen and rummaged through it. I should probably help him out, tell him where I put the mugs and whatnot, but I was still feeling a little off.
Since his phone call to the moment he came here, and even when he wrapped his arms around me, everything had felt fuzzy. Like this wasn’t real.
It was nothing more than a dream.
He pulled out two mugs before he boiled some water in the pot, then proceeded to put away my groceries. Most of the stuff he got right, but I noticed him putting the salt away in the wrong cabinet. I didn’t correct him.