The elevator dings, I grab his hand, and rush him toward my apartment. At the door, my hand quivers so badly, the key misses the hole. A warm palm reaches out to steady me and together, we unlock the door.
Once we’re inside, he slams it shut with his heel, pushes me against the refrigerator, and pulls up the unending folds of my sixteenth century costume. Eventually, he finds my butt and squeezes. My legs part, waiting for him to touch my need.
When a car horn blares, his brows furrow, and his eyes darken. Breathing hard, he takes two steps back.
“Dammit, I-I can’t.”
“Why not?”Are you kidding me?To hell with my ego. I’ll fall down on my knees, take him into my mouth, and teach him what he’s missing.
As if reading my mind, he takes me by the shoulders, and holds me at arm’s length. “I could give about a million reasons. For one, Sir James is an act, luv.”
“I don’t understand. What’s your name got to do it?” My throat grows tight. Dammit. Somehow, I blew it, turned him off, sent him running.
He doesn’t want me.
Lucky paces the small kitchen and scratches his head. “This is the real me, Lucky, from down un-dah. ’Straya.”
My mouth drops open. Surely, this isn’t happening.“You stopped kissing me because you’re Australian?”
“No luv. I stopped, because until I’m off the clock, you’re my client and we were about to end up in bed.”
“I’m not your type. That’s it, isn’t it” When one lone tear drips down my cheek, I bite hard on my lower lip until it hurts more than my pride.
“Callie?”
“Lucky?” I peek open one eye, the kitchen goes black, and I’m in a dark tomb.
“No, hun, it’s me, Lilac. Thank God. You’ve been quiet for almost an hour. We were really getting worried.” The internist shines her phone, lighting up ghostly features.
“I’m okay. I fell asleep.” My headache throbs, my stomach wretches, and I fight back the sour bile threatening to erupt.
I close my eyes to rewind back to my sweet dream. I’d much rather die there than in a cold dark hole in the ground, covered in puke.
Lilac brings her mouth to the hole that separates us. “No more sleeping. I think you have a concussion.”
Everythingisa bit foggy, I don’t recall hitting my head but it hurts. I do remember an explosion.
“Where’s Lucky?” My legs have fallen asleep so I unfold them and squish knees to chest.
“Hold on a little longer. There’s quite a bit of loose rubble overhead so the rescue team is being careful.”
“Can you tell Lucky I love him?”
“Hold on a sec.” There’s a moment of silence, some muffled shouting, then she adds, “He’s asking for you to shout. They want to pinpoint your location.”
“Hey! Here! I’m here!” My voice gets swallowed by the surrounding walls.
“Again.”
“Hello!” I scream until I’m hoarse.
“Can I stop now?” My throat raw, I wait in darkness and fret.
A good ten minutes later, she returns, her voice cheery. “He says they’re good.”
“Great.” Weighty lids droop, ready for more dreams.
“How about we chat?” Perky Lilac is the worst. She shines her phone into my space and I moan.
