“No biggie. I’m gonna change first, and then we can decide.” Concern creased his brow. “Here.” He held out his arm. “You look exhausted. Let me help you to the couch.”
With no strength to argue, I let him put his arm around my waist. I leaned on him, and together we moved in sync. The couch looked a long way off. My ribs hurt, and I needed to stop and catch my breath. Something I was finding hard to do with Weston so damn close. His chest rose and fell, and the scent of his cologne and sweat filled my senses. I met his eyes, shocked by their green-gold fire.
“Has it been so awful being here with me?” Weston murmured, his mouth almost near enough to touch my cheek and tingling lips.
“No. I like it.” At my confession, his grip grew tighter. He pulled me close, and I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. I fucking ached to kiss him, but I didn’t know how to make that first move. Weston, too, seemed caught off guard by this…this thing growing between us, and we stayed locked in a staring contest, the air alive and vibrating, ready to explode.
“Me too. You’ve been driving me crazy for weeks. I can’t explain it. I don’t understand it.” His mouth hovered near mine, and I could barely hear his words over the thunderous pounding of my heart.
A powerful surge of lust rocketed through me, and like that night in the hotel, I was fast spinning out of control. “What’s happening here?”
West cupped my cheek. “Maybe it’s time to find out?” He leaned in to kiss me, and my eyes fluttered shut.
The buzzer sounded, and we sprang apart. The motion sent daggers of pain through my side.
“Ow, fuck, ow, ow.” I clutched my side, and West, wild-eyed and flushed, raced to the door.
“What?” he snapped.
“Christine Gigante to see you.”
“Uh, yeah, sure, send her up.” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second and smoothed down his hair. “Are you all right?” He returned to my side, and with a gentle hand, led me to the sofa and helped me get comfortable.
“Yeah, fine.” I couldn’t look at him.
The bell rang, and Weston left me to answer it. With her usual exuberance, Christine breezed in through the door.
“Hello, you must be Weston. I’m Christine Gigante. Thank you so much for taking care of Bren in his hour—or days as it looks—of need.”
Following on her heels was a burly man in a dark suit, hair buzzed close to the scalp. He carried two very large shopping bags. He stayed silent and watchful by her side.
“I’ve brought some food that should last you for a while. Omar will put it away if you show him to your kitchen.” She turned on her perfect smile.
“Oh, yeah, sure. This way.” Weston waved at Omar, who still hadn’t said a word but followed him.
I’d known Christine long enough to understand she wanted to be alone with me, and I attempted to unscramble my brain quickly enough to speak. She dropped her purse on the table in the entranceway, and her stilettos clicked fast and furious across the shining wooden floors as she hurried to my side.
“My poor baby. Look what those bastards did to you.” She kissed me hello, and her gleaming red nails touched my cheek.Her eyes narrowed, and a devilish light brightened her eyes. “Are you feeling any better? It’s so nice of your friend to help you out.” She crossed her legs. “Tell me all about him.”
“You’re kidding. Don’t tell me you didn’t look him and his family up immediately when I told you I was staying with him.”
Her laugh was merry. “It’s like you know me, darling. Of course I did. A father who’s a presidential candidate?” Red lips curved upward, and her eyes danced. “How deliciously juicy. He’s gorgeous.” She leaned in close. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? You know I’m safe.”
Fear shot through me. “Tell you what?”
Her finely arched brows rose high, and she studied my face. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have Weston to help you, but you know you could’ve asked me. I would’ve sent someone over to your apartment to look after you.”
I imagined the hulking Omar, sitting silent in every corner, and I made a face. “Uh, thank you, but no thanks. I’m fine.”
“I’m sure you are,” she murmured.
Weston returned. “Christine, you do realize there are only two people here. You’ve brought enough food for a month.”
“Darling, we’re Italian. Food is love.” She patted the space next to her. “Come sit and tell me about yourself. I had no idea you and Brenner were friends.”
“I don’t know if you’d call us friends.” Savvy enough to understand what she was up to, Weston chose to sit across from us in the club chair. “We knew each other in law school, and now we work together. I have an extra bedroom, and I offered it to him to make it easier for him to get to work.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, considering you’re not friends. Doesn’t your girlfriend mind?”
