She jerked to her feet. “I don’t need help.” She let out a brittle laugh. “You know me. I always land on my feet.”
Killian nodded. “I know you do,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe you need to figure out why you keep falling.”
And that was her cue to leave. If there was one thing she didn’t waste time on, it was thinking about her inadequacies. She tugged her hands away from his.
She paused at the door. “I’m truly sorry. I would never want to put your business in jeopardy.”
She snuck through the back door, thankful that no one was there to see her walk of shame. Johnny was leaning against his motorcycle when she stepped outside, one motorcycle boot crossed over another, his arms straining the sleeves of the old Northfield Fire Department T-shirt he wore. A wave of affection stole over her at the sight of him and she waved. Ever since they met, Johnny had been looking out for her.
They grew up together in Cedarwood Village, the low-income housing track on the outer edge of Northfield. When you grew up outside of the wealthy Northfield bubble, you stuck to others like you. It made it a lot less awkward when your friends wanted to come over and hang out.
One day over the summer, she had been walking around their complex, bored and looking for something to do, when a pack of boys she knew from school started chasing her, and not in a tag-you’re-it sort of way. Jeff Lloyd, an arrogant kid with a mean streak, was the leader.
Amber was like any other middle school girl, with teeth too big for her face and gangly arms and legs, but her chest made her stand out. She had developed earlier than anyone else in middle school, much to her embarrassment.
She knew Jeff had started a rumor that she had let him touch her boobs last school year, and the boys chasing her had wandered down from the village, bored and looking to try their own luck with her.
It was the first time Amber could remember being truly afraid.
She took off running as fast as she could, but Jeff grabbed her from behind. He had her wrapped up tight and was taunting her when Johnny came out of his mom’s apartment, fists flying.
At fifteen, Johnny had shown the promise of the imposing man he was now. Jeff had known he was in trouble as soon as he saw him. He’d dropped Amber on her butt by then, but Johnny charged, sucker-punching Jeff and following him to the ground. The other boys ran away, but Johnny wouldn’t let Jeff go until he’d apologized. Red in the face, snot running down his nose, Jeff had promised never to bother her again.
Johnny had been her protector ever since. A little more than that for a brief time, but they had quickly realized they were too similar to be anything other than friends.
She sighed. “You heard, huh?”
A flash of white teeth showed in his tanned face. “Causing trouble again, short stuff?”
“Don’t call me that,” she said automatically.
“What did you do now?” he asked, and a little frisson of irritation sparked. Why did everyone assume it was her that did something?
She poked his broad chest, but just as suddenly, the spark sputtered and died. “Karaoke on the bar.” Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t believe Killian fired me.”
The corners of Johnny's mouth pulled down. “I’m sorry, babe. After that last time Killian reamed you out, I didn't think you were gonna do it again.” He held out his arms and Amber leaned into his broad chest with a sigh.
“Why do I keep messing up?” she asked, her voice muffled in his shirt.
“I don't know.” Johnny threaded his fingersthrough the hair at the back of her neck and rubbed. She sighed in relief. Everything hurt, probably from her fall on the bar, plus her tank top was sticky with vodka. She leaned back.
“Thanks for waiting for me.”
“You got it. Do you want to come back to my place for a drink?” he asked.
For a second, she considered it, but shook her head. “No, I have a terrible headache. I’m going to head home and take a bath.”
“Whose is this?” he asked, fingering the suit coat she still wore around her shoulders.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Johnny studied her, then leaned forward and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Do you need anything before I head out?” he asked.
The thing about Johnny was that he understood her too well. They had the same guarded approach to life and relationships because of their upbringing, and they both would rather hightail it out of town than feel vulnerable. But when the rubber hit the road, they were there for each other.
“No, I’m good. Thanks. Go find some cute girl to pick up who doesn’t smell like a liquor cabinet.”
“That’s the plan.” He smirked, already putting on his helmet.
