“Who?” I asked. The smell of alcohol and his cologne tangled up in my senses and I had trouble focusing on anything else.
“Ye had his finger in yer mouth,” he said on a chuckle and leaned back enough to grin at me.
My face heated and I traced my pointer along the seam of my lips, remembering. “Oh, right. And you’re Rowen.”
“Aye,” he said with a warm smile. “I am. Are ye sure ye’re normally like this? I am a wee bit concerned.”
“Mostly. It’s nice of you to help me. My work attracts an unusual crowd.”
“Careful, ye might insult me.” He tapped a finger on my nose, and I blinked up at him.
“Oh, I’m stranger than you or just about anyone.” I shrugged.
He snickered and scooped up the trash from the alcohol wipes before he took a short trip to a nearby garbage can tucked in a corner next to the stove. “How do ye feel?”
“Like I ate a cloud.”
“What?” He laughed until he had to hold his side.
“A little foggy but not too bad.”
Rowen walked over to the table, still snorting on some chuckles, and with a flourish, he snapped the top closed on the first aid kit.
My stomach gave an unhappy roil, so I rubbed at it, and it took me a few seconds to realize the pain had to be from lack of food. When I glanced at the windows they were black. I searched back through my mind as much as it would let me and didn’t remember food recently.
“Did ye get hit there?” Rowen’s mouth firmed into a serious line.
“Yes, but I must have skipped dinner. I think.”
“Why do ye say that?”
“I’m hungry.” I blinked up at him, and emotions rolled over his face, from what I was fairly sure was confusion to annoyance—where most people usually stopped—and on to amusement.
“We can do food. Good idea. Everyone needs to eat. What do ye—”
“Pizza. I eat it a lot. I don’t like square pizza because the inside slices are not good.”
“That’ll do it,” he said and held out a hand for me. His lips trembled, and instead of slipping toward a frown, they were happy. My chest went light and I placed my hand in his.
It was nice as he hefted me to my feet, even though I did most of the work, and he smiled so warmly my face burned before he let go of my hand. As I followed him into the hallway and on to a living room, several things converged in my mind at once—one, I was feeling a little better now than I had when I’d climbed into the SUV with Rowen and his friends, and two, I was starving to death and maybe I’d skipped lunch as well as dinner. Three, I had no idea where I was, though we hadn’t driven far enough to be completely gone from New York... I hoped, and... what number was I on? Anyway, I really was a bit dizzy. I collapsed onto the first couch I came to in relief. It was a wonderfully hideous orange leather monstrosity that could easily seat several people, and I played my fingers across the cool cushions.
With great gusto, Rowen tapped the screen of his phone, showed me what seemed to be an order number on an app, and then sat down. “Done. I always get a variety from our favorite shop down the road, so I’m sure there will be something ye’ll like.” He grinned at me.
Ordering food... we were going to have drinks earlier and talk about—“Danny Greene. Why did you want to know more about him?”
“Ye remember that?” He slid his phone into his pocket and turned toward me until our knees bumped. My stomach jumped in excitement and I held the ice pack tighter to my jaw.
“Right now, yeah.”
“Ye’re a confounding creature, Professor.” His fingers bumped my hand where it was resting on the couch cushion. I should move away to be polite, but I didn’t want to do that, so I left my hand where it was while my stomach quivered.
“I’m a doctor, actually, though some of the students call me professor. And... uh... I’m aware. That I am that.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Not a bad thing, being different. Ye’re fascinating to talk with.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Why’s that?” he asked. His eyes widened and I got caught up staring at the color again.
