“Jon? You in there?”
“Uh, yea. Sorry. Just lost in my thoughts, I guess. Busy morning,” I explain, moving my eyes away from her face, and instead, pulling out my phone, only to be met with another message from Nicolette.Fuck. She’s become extra needy these last couple of weeks.
“Thought maybe aliens were abducting you and taking over your brain or something,” she quips. I laugh, putting my phone on silent in my pocket.
“Ha. I wish. Could use an alien lobotomy right about now,” I say morbidly.
“Whoa. Rough day? I was just stopping by to visit Sammy again,” she says, jutting her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the main entrance.
“You could say that. You know you don’t have to keep visiting him. I’m sure you have better things to do than talk about superheroes and comic books with a sick kid.”
She huffs a laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, Doc. Not a lot of friends are reaching out to me right now. And, I’m on strict orders from my manager not to cause trouble while I wait for that Doucheland guy to send his settlement agreement.”
Oh. Right. Guess Paramount isn’t really opening doors for her. Even as we stand here and talk, people walking by stare at her like she’s a circus clown. I’m staring at her too. But for completely opposite reasons.
“Well, I’m off for the rest of the day. See ya around, maybe.” I turn and make it about three steps before I hear her trotting alongside me. I catch a whiff of her conditioner—something sweet, like cherries or something.
“Where’re we headed?” she asks, and I force my eyes to stay pointed forward.
“We?”
“Yea. I can always stop by Sammy’s room later. He’s probably gonna be taking a nap soon, anyway, right?”
The fact that after only a couple of days of knowing him, she already understands his schedule, does something to me. My heart that’s breaking for Sammy is suddenly warming for Margeaux.
“You’re a lot nicer than you seem,” I tell her.
“What about me doesn’t seem nice?” she asks defensively. I don’t look, but I can tell in my periphery that she’s looking right at me, giving me an annoyed eye roll.
“Oh, I dunno. Crushing your opponents with chairs. Punching overly entitled assholes in bar fights,” I shrug.
She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I worry I really offended her. I thought I was being funny—albeit sarcastic—but she’s not laughing.
“Firstly, I didn’t hit herthathard with the chair. We have a way of hitting using props that makes it look worse than it feels,” she states, holding up her index finger as we continue walking. “Secondly, I didn’t punch Richy Rich. You were there. I put him in a headlock. He’s a fucking liar and a total sleezebag.”
“You’re right aboutthat.” I’ve only met Brice Strickland a handful of times over the years. He’s an entitled asshole. His dad is a high-priced defense attorney, and Brice reaps all the benefits of being a multi-millionaire’s son. He’s always popping up in the local news about hosting parties for the young elite. Which, I have no doubt, are flooded with booze and drugs.
We walk in a comfortable silence for another half a block. “So, where are you taking me, Doc?”
“Taking you?You’refollowing me,” I say, not hating that she’s next to me. Something about her calms me, even though I’m a nervous wreck and probably should avoid all contact with this woman. Even though my brain knows better, my body is aching to be closer to this one-of-a-kind woman.
“Well, you’re leading us somewhere. I haven’t explored this citymuch. Outside of the gym, or visiting Sammy, I tend to stay in my hotel room and just order room service. The less I’m seen out and about, the less trouble for me.
“You planning on causing more trouble?” I tease her.
“Uh, fuck you. And no. I don’t cause trouble. It just has a tendency to find me,” she says, giving me a wink.
Is she suggesting we get into trouble together? I amnotlooking for that.“
Look, what happened between us the other day was wrong and a mistake,” I admit.
“You mean, you shoving your tongue in my mouth,or, you making me hide in a shower, while you ditched me? Which part?”
“The whole part!” I look around and lower my voice so nobody overhears us. “Look, I don’t know what came over me. I was operating out of character. I was in the wrong. Not you. You were…”
“Hmmm? Go on, Doc. I was…”
Sexy. Amazing. The best kiss of my life. “You were there,” I say instead.
