“We can’t be stuck in this fucking elevator,” he says, looking exhausted.
“We’re not,” she says. “We’re just waiting for the power to come back on.”
“Yeah,” I add, glancing at my watch. “I’d say in less than five minutes.”
I can tell by the stagger in his limbs that he’s bordering on exhaustion. He might pass out at any moment if he doesn’t sit down and regulate his breathing.
“How long does it take to suffocate?” he asks, glancing around the small box.
“We won’t,” I reply with confidence. “Those are air vents. We’re perfectly safe.”
He scoffs at that.
“Sit down, Julian,” the girl commands him. “Sit down and wait with us.”
Eventually he surrenders and sort of kneels-slash-falls to the floor. He still can’t drag in a full lung’s worth of air, but he’s doing better than he was a few minutes ago.
As soon as his ass hits the floor, he slumps against the wall. Last night, he was so perfectly put together with meticulously styled hair and crisp, clean clothes. He’s probably one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid eyes on.
But right now, he’s a mess. His hair is wavy and unkempt from the rain. His skin is clammy and pale, and dark circles frame his vibrant eyes. His lips are dry, and his posture is like melted wax.
Even still, he’s pretty fucking beautiful.
I don’t normally go for the pretty guys, but I could have some fun roughing him up a bit. Now the girl at his side, though…she’s definitely my type.
With wild black waves, she has this effortlesscool-girlthing going on that is very fucking sexy. She has a black skirt that comesto her knees and a pair of ass-kicker ankle boots, and I immediately imagine what they’d feel like digging into my back.
“What’s your name, by the way?” I ask.
She glances at me and rakes her gaze over my face and body as if she’s quickly sizing me up to determine if I’m a threat or not.
“Freya,” she replies. “What’s yours?”
“Archer.”
She looks at something just above my eye. “What happened to your face?”
I touch my brow where a white bandage is holding the broken skin together. “Um…” I start, but she quickly shakes her head, noticing my apprehension.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
I press my lips together as she turns her attention back to Julian.
“How are you feeling?” she asks him.
His eyes are still closed, and he looks like he’s dissolving into a puddle.
“He doesn’t look so good,” I say, worried that this guy might literally croak here in this elevator, and we’ll just be stuck with his corpse until the power comes back on.
“Do you need to eat something?” she asks, touching his face.
With what little energy he has left, he nods.
Then Freya jumps into action, unzipping the large boxlike tote she’d hoisted onto this elevator with her. The aroma of cheese suddenly fills the space, and my mouth waters.
I lean forward, trying to get a peek of what she’s got. She pulls out a dish that looks like potatoes, and with a fork, she brings a bite to his mouth.
“I thought you hated him,” I say, leaning against the opposite wall.
