I couldn’t think of one single reason he’d come to see me. Moreover, what the hell was he doing at my apartment at ten o’clock at night? How the heck did he even know where I lived?
The buzzer buzzed again and I punched the button.
“Don’t do that!” I hissed.
Again he remained silent. I imagined talking into a speaker was his least favorite pastime.
I could also imagine him out there, furious expression, refusing to open his mouth and speak to me. I thought of his face yesterday. The way his fists were curled, anger vibrating through him. Then I thought of his blood-covered knuckles and wondered if there had been another incident at work. Surely he hadn’t punched someone else…
After a long, long pause, I punched the speaker and said, “Are you still out there?”
“Y-yes,” came the growled response.
I held down the button so he could get in and then opened my front door to stand on the landing.
I heard his shoes on the stairs before I saw him. I leaned over the railing, catching a glimpse of his brown hair. My eyes slipped down to my bare legs, my bare feet. My nearly bare everything.
Thinking I had the evening to myself, I’d pulled on a pair of plaid boxers and a threadbare gray T-shirt with the number seventeen on the front. This was my standard sleepwear, and until ten seconds ago, my dress code had been perfect for the party of two in my apartment: me and a pizza.
I couldn’t do much about my ponytail or the fact I’d already scrubbed my makeup off, but at the very least I could change my clothes and make myself presentable. I started to run for my apartment, but then Cade appeared on the stairs, chin lifted, hand wrapped around the railing, scowl on his face.
He was angry. I wasn’t sure what to do with angry Cade. The safest route would be to send him away. But when I thought about that, I wondered who he’d talk to if not me. Did he have anyone to talk to? I didn’t.
It was the first time I’d considered what we had in common.
Instead of fleeing to my apartment, I waited, arms crossed, while he completed the final trek up the stairs. On the landing he greeted me with silence and an infuriated expression.
His sandy-colored eyebrows were so low his eyes were in shadow. I felt them as they grazed me from head to toe. Tingles chased down my arms and legs, but before I could become inappropriately transfixed on his mouth, those lips pursed and Cade Wilson said the last two words I thought I’d ever hear him say.
He stumbled over the F, dragging it out a few beats, but the message was crystal clear.
“Fffix me.”
Cade
Tonight at Oak & Sage I did exactly what Devlin had asked of me. I kept to myself, kept my fists to myself, and ignored both the knucklehead on the salad bar and Hamilton’s prodding.
I understood. In the hierarchy of the restaurant, I was the lame one of the herd. To establish dominance and keep the pecking order intact, they needed to treat me like a lesser member of society.
It didn’t make my life easier. Especially when Hamilton put one meaty paw on my shoulder and blew me a kiss. I doubted Hamilton was gay. More likely he was trying to get a rise out of me. Tempting, but I needed my job, and I was taking Devlin at his word. He’d fire me if I overreacted. Hamilton had to know that. And he was trying to get me fired as quickly as possible.
So I didn’t react. I tamped it down and gritted through the shift, the name-calling, and when I was done, all that anger resurfaced as I turned over the things I could’ve said. I wished I could’ve said.
I drove to Tasha’s apartment like a bat out of hell, running on bottled anger. I had no idea what to do with the emotions running through me like lava.
Such were the circumstances that ended with me standing in her apartment building’s hallway. Her prim brows rose while I tried my level best to keep my eyes above her neck. She was wearing…almost nothing. I was lucky I managed the two words I did when she opened the door. Now my tongue was spot-welded to the roof of my mouth.
“Hi.” Her blue eyes swam over me, probably looking for any sign of injury, or maybe someone else’s blood. I must have looked and sounded as pissed off as I felt. “Are you all right?”
I was, now that I was looking at a pair of smooth, tanned thighs curving out of a short pair of boxers. I’d seen Tasha in dresses before, but she wore knee-high boots with them. And her skirts were never as short as those boxers. I caught a flash of hot pink as she backed toward her open apartment door. I glanced down to her bare toes and hot pink nail polish.
It was the second sexiest part of her.
Don’t even get me started on the super-thin shirt.
“Cade?”
After a few false starts at trying to say the word “fine,” I went with “yeah” instead.