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Then I sprinted back to the apartment, breathing hard as I burst through the front door. A little grateful Wick wasn’t around to see how much of a scaredy-cat I’d been to run through the dark night like that, I took a moment to let my racing pulse calm before seeking him out.
When I found him, he stood in the kitchen, his back to me as he drank from a cup.
“Good news,” I announced. “Washing is complete, and sheet drying has commenced.”
Wick set the cup on the counter and turned to face me. Leaning his hip against the counter, he nodded but didn’t say anything, which prompted me to make nervous, awkward gestures with my hands as I blurted, “I didn’t notice the building mascot earlier when we were in the basement but I think I scared one of his nine lives right out of him when I appeared suddenly in the stairwell. He dashed back through the cat door before I could introduce myself.”
“Must’ve been Princess,” Wick said, nodding. “The building owner’s cat.”
“Oh.” I smiled and nodded, silently correcting myself. So, Mr. Whiskers was actually a Mrs. Whiskers. Got it. “That’s cool.”
“You’re not allergic, are you?”
“Me?” I waved a hand. “No way. My mom is, but not me. I actually love cats. Is Princess friendly?”
“Not at all. She bites. Hisses. And scratches.”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh.” Well, damn. I’d been kind of hoping to make a furry friend. I’d never had a pet growing up. It’d been exhilarating to think I might finally have a chance to connect with an animal.
“That’s a shame,” I mumbled lamely, more bummed than I thought I should be.
When I saw Wick glance uneasily around the kitchen as if he felt trapped in there with me, I cringed.
“I’m sorry, do you want me to leave you alone?” I blurted, biting my lip in the hopes he’d say no, he simply loved being in my sporadic, uncomfortable presence. But knowing he’d never in a million years want something so insane, I backed away, waving him goodbye. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“You don’t—” He cut himself off abruptly and grimaced as if he didn’t want to say anything.
I paused and glanced at him hopefully, ready to wait him out so he could say what was really on his mind. But his jaw hardened as if he were buckling down to remain mute. So, I softly said, “I don’t what?”
His expression twitched with a quick irritation as if he didn’t appreciate how I’d forced him to finish saying what he’d started. Then he took a deep breath and gave the reluctant mutter, “If you want company, I don’t mind. I’m just not the best at, you know.” He fluttered out a hand. “Conversation. But you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be.”
“I don’t,” I said quickly, more quickly than I knew I should’ve answered. With an apologetic cringe, I added, “Sorry. I know I should just suck it up and move on, but my brain feels as if it’s on speed. So right now, I’ll take any kind of distraction I can get to just…not think. And besides, your conversational skills aren’t lacking at all.”
It might take a crowbar to pry the words out of him, but once he talked, I actually liked what he had to say.
He lifted an eyebrow as if doubting the compliment I’d given him. Then he shook his head and blew out a breath. “Yeah, you must be desperate for a distraction if you can say that.”
Laughing, I held out a hand toward him. “Nonsense. I enjoy talking to you. You called my mom awesome. That’s, like, the ultimate brownie point with me.”
I don’t think he was listening to me any longer, though. He was too busy gaping at my hand as if he had no idea why I had it raised in his direction. Then he glanced incredulously at my face before dropping his gaze to my hand again.
Okay, so the guy must not hold a lot of hands. Noted.
With a long sigh, I reached out even more so I could wrap my fingers around his, and then I purposefully tugged him from the room. He stumbled along behind me.
I glanced back as soon as we reached the front room.
“You don’t mind if we sit in here to talk, do you?” I hedged, grinning slightly over his expression, though I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be so amused by someone else’s obvious unease.
He shook his head. “Whatever.”
“Good.” Smiling even bigger, I almost laughed aloud when he shot me a suspicious glance. I wasn’t entirely sure why his discomfort was so entertaining to me, but I was definitely having fun pushing him to his limit and seeing how far he’d let me go, or maybe I should say, how close he’d let me get. It beat thinking about shit that would just make me cry, so I guess my brain latched on to any form of lame amusement it could find.
Plopping onto the couch, I kept hold of his hand the entire way down so that he’d be forced to either sit with me or make a production of releasing me in order to gain some distance.
He sat with me, our thighs pressing together snugly. He was warm and solid, and the sensation eased that restless place inside me that hadn’t been able to sit still earlier. My head went quiet so suddenly, in fact, that I closed my eyes and exhaled in blessed relief.
God, that felt good. My thoughts slowed as if they’d just encountered a vat of molasses. But instead of sinking in the dark goo and drowning, I swear my brain kicked back as if riding on an inner tube through the muck, crossing its feet at the ankles in lazy bliss as it slipped on a pair of shades, drank deeply from a cocktail with one of those little umbrellas in it, and just…floated merrily along.
