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“Would you stop calling me that?”
“Um, no. Not right now.” She stalked over to him. “Because that’s what you are. You didn’t think there would be consequences?”
“Yeah, well. I’d gotten away with it before,” he mumbled.
“Unbelievable.”
He sighed. “Look, I get it. I learned my lesson, mom.”
“Don’t you do that. You don’t get to scare me then say crap like that.”
“I’m sorry.”
She fisted her hands. “God. I am so mad at you.”
He started to slide down the wall, but caught himself just as she grabbed for a fistful of his shirt. “Where’d you leave the bus?”
“In front of MOMA, where you’re supposed to be.” And he’d ruined her plans to walk around Rockefeller Center that night. Not Hell’s Kitchen, dammit.
She looked around. Not even a cab in sight. She flattened her hand against his chest to make sure he stayed upright and flicked through her car apps.
“Can we not?”
She glanced at him. “Not what?”
“Go back.”
She frowned. “Of course we’re going back. You have a radio show at eight in the morning.”
“We’ll go back early, but can we just crash somewhere tonight?” He glanced away. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this. A shower and some sleep and I’ll mostly be back to rights.”
Her chest tightened. “Yeah. You’re not really in any shape to spend it on the bus. We can grab a car and get a hotel.”
“With what money?”
She curled her fingers into his crooked button-down shirt. Anger and worry made her want to club him over the head. Dammit, it could have been so much worse.
Two of the buttons were missing and for once he wasn’t wearing one of his concert T-shirts under it. Her pinkie slipped across his skin and a smattering of freckles seemed to dance in the shadows of the overhead streetlight.
He covered her hand. “Look, I just need a break. Just you and me tonight? I don’t have to think when I’m with you. I can just be.”
Her cold, black heart couldn’t hold up to that. “Not fair, Ry.”
“I’m not really feeling fair tonight, Den.”
“I don’t have much cash on me.”
He was quiet for a moment before swiping his forearm over his sweaty brow. “I can slum it if you can.”
She looked around. A buzzing neon light had a missing L in motel. “Hummingbird Motel for your evening’s pleasure?”
He followed the track of her gaze. “Normally such a classy bird.”
“Pretty on target for a no-tell motel. Quick as a lick.”
Ryan snorted. “That’s true.” His lids went heavy. “You like it quick, Denver?”
She let him go. “Nothing wrong with quick and dirty, pal.”
