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The first hint of a smile brushed my lips as I stared at him. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”
But the moment I turned and saw IRIS walking through the doors, I had a strong desire to push him over. So, I did. He cried out, falling into the bushes as a satisfied smirk filled my face. He deserved it for laughing at his friend’s difficulties. I strode over to Brock and held out my hand. “I need your keys.”
He stared at my hand, then up at me. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Well, your friend, the one you live with, is in pain and needs rest. You need to give me your keys.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” he answered. “There’s no fucking way a chick is driving my truck.”
I bristled at the use of the word chick, but pushed it down. The only important thing was getting Dash home so he could recover. “Fine. Let’s go.”
He followed me outside, walking off to the parking lot as I stood beside Dash. Something passed between him and IRIS before we were finally left alone as the other man strode off into the night.
“You have lousy friends,” I muttered.
“That’s just the way we are. There’s nothing to worry about until there’s something to worry about.”
“You were shot. I’d say that’s something to worry about.”
“Only if it had hit a major artery,” he retorted.
I didn’t have time to respond because Brock pulled up to the curb, hopping out to help Dash into the vehicle. At least, I thought that’s what he was going to do. He pushed the wheelchair forward, but then jerked it back, essentially dumping Dash out of the wheelchair.
“Time to go.”
Dash stumbled, crashing against the side of the truck and holding himself up as Brock whistled a cheery tune and turned back to the hospital. I stood there, mouth gaping as I watched the scene unfold. Then it hit me that I should help Dash and rushed over to him.
He flinched back from my touch, sighing as he opened the door. “I really am fine. You don’t have to baby me.”
“I’m not babying you. I’m…being your friend.”
Hurt filled me as I watched his face war with indecision. I hadn’t realized he didn’t want my help. Now I felt like the woman who couldn’t take a hint.
“I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed?—”
“No.” He reached out, snagging my wrist as I was about to walk away. “It’s not you. I’m just crabby because…my leg hurts. Don’t listen to me.”
“I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
“You?” he asked, his lips twitching in laughter. “The last thing you are is a nuisance.”
“Yeah, but I barged in here and you’ve only known me for a few days.”
“Hey,” he said, his hand reaching up to brush my cheek. For just a moment, my breath stalled in my lungs. The way he was looking at me, it was almost like he wanted to kiss me. My tongue darted out, moistening my lips as I waited. His eyes locked on the movement, and I could have sworn I saw them darken with desire.
But the moment passed and he stepped back, clearing his throat. “You promised me movies in bed. I hope this isn’t some dramatic way of getting out of what you promised.”
It took a second for my brain to come back online. “Of course not,” I said as cheerily as possible. I have all the best movies lined up and waiting for you.”
“Already?”
“Well, I had to do something while I was waiting for you to be released.”
“And the popcorn?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly.
“I’ll send Brock out for some as soon as we get you home.”
