“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who hangs out at Lucious, Bruce. So why were you there tonight?”
He sighed heavily and scratched the top of his head. “I was there for a bachelor party. My buddy is getting married and has never been to a strip club. The other guys thought it should be part of his last night as a single man.”
My internal cringe damn near made it to my external extremities. I hated that phrase. Like waking up to state some legal bullshit gave you the right to ahall pass the night before. What changes between yesterday and tomorrow that earns someone the right to indulge in unfamiliar pussy?
“Which is ridiculous,” Bruce exhaled a heavy breath, shoved his hands into his coat pockets and shook his head while staring off into the distance. “What does the difference in a single day make between a relationship? You’re faithful for years and then out of the blue, because you have to sign a piece of paper the next day, you go and blow it all on intoxication and STI riddled women.” My head whipped his direction and he added, “No offense,” with a raised, placating hand.
My steps faltered, but it wasn’t because he’d just thrown me into the lot lizard class. Of all the years I’d walked this planet, I’d never once met a man who abhorred bachelor parties the way I did. Was he being sincere?
And if he were…
I cleared my throat and focused on the passing buildings rather than entertaining the idea that he may be different based on the single hour I’d known him.
Instead, as we reached the last street before my building, I deflected. “I mean, offense taken, but go on.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“Yes you did, but I’ll let it slide.” He pursed his lips and sighed again, seemingly deciding to shut the fuck up before he got throat punched. “So you were just an innocent in all of this?”
“Hardly. I am a man and not a perfect one. I couldn’t take much more in there, though. Needed to breathe some foul, dark alley air before I went stir crazy. That’s when I heard you. I followed the sound around back and found those men assaulting you.”
“Wow. You really are a vigilante.”
“No, ma’am. Just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
I didn’t follow up his statement with a reply. The side of my brain responsible for logic was firing red-flags on all cylinders, while the other whirled with irrationality. I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop for the entirety of our walk, but Bruce had been nothing but a perfect gentleman. He’d neither made a move to wrap his arm around my waist nor suggested we take things insidewhen we got to my apartment.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, it made the iron in my walls flex. Walls that I’d never felt with anyone other than Lucifer.
Never.
Until now.
We reached my apartment complex and I stopped, turning to face him. Lucifer always said eyes are the gateway to the soul, so I looked—really looked—like I could pry him open if I stared hard enough.
His eyes weren’t darting side to side. His hands weren’t fidgeting, and there was no sweat dripping down his temple.
All I found was sincerity.
You walked him to your door. A stranger now knows exactly where you live.
Except… if he meant harm, the alley would’ve been easier. And I’m not easy. The worst thing in this building wasn’t on the sidewalk beside me—it was wearing my skin.
Not to mention the fifty or so other rooms filled with murderers.
“You’re different, Bruce,” I mused with narrow eyes. “I’ll give you that.”
“I hope that’s good news.”
I patted him on the shoulder, unsure of what else to do, but driven by a curious need to touch him. To see if he felt as different as he acted. “Thanks for walking me home. No need to sweep the place. I’ve got pepper spray, and my landlord’s a felon. He’s killed people for less than breaking and entering.”
Maybe that was a small hint to him: intruders don’t make it back out, so don’t stalk me.
We’d stopped on the cracked slab of sidewalk directly under the Building C awning. A streetlight hummed, throwing a cone of vintage yellow over the curb and our shadows.
Right on cue, a square of light blinked above us. I didn’t have to look to know that my nosey ass neighbor, Barb, was watching from above. Her living room window was situated on the second floor, right below my stairwell.
Please don’t notice,I thought with an internal groan.There was no easy way to explain Barb without visual aids and a dissertation.
