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I glared at her. “It looks like it’ll probably be a little sore but you’ll live. But I think this should be your sign to retire from sprinting.”
“I wasn’t sprinting. I was jogging.”
“Yeah, no more sprints for you today,” I said. “I’ll call you a cab.”
“I don’t like cabs. I watched a documentary once about this cab driver who drove people to his creepy chop shop by night and sold their meat by day to unsuspecting people on the street from his hotdog stand.”
I stared. “Good thing it’s not night, then. We’ll just skip my usual post run hotdog.”
She folded her arms, which had the distracting effect of pushing her breasts up. “Ha. Very funny, Dominic. But I’m not riding in a cab. They’re creepy.”
“What do you suggest?” I asked. “You want me to call an ambulance? Or do you not ride in those, either?”
I’m not taking an ambulance for a rolled ankle. She got up, wincing as she put weight on her foot. “See? I’m fine.”
Instinctively, I reached out and put an arm around her, holding her up and helping keep her off the foot. “Alright, how far is your place from here?”
“Far,” she said. “Trying to pin you down for these jog attacks is actually pretty damn inconvenient. I had to take a bus. I hate busses.”
“Then I can take you to my place and get you some ice for your ankle. Once you’re good to walk on your own, you can head home, or I can drive you, assuming you haven’t developed some kind of phobia of riding with your boss since our ice cream date.”
She grinned, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t mind riding you.With you,” she added quickly, cheeks going bright red.
I pretended not to hear as I took more of her weight against me and started leading her toward the park exit.
“So is this how you operate, Mr. Lockwood?” she asked while we walked. “Is this one of your seduction tactics? Wound your prey and then they have no choice but to go back to your sex cave?”
“Darcy… you’re the one who decided to act crazy and sprint after me. I’m just trying to do the right thing here.”
“If you’re so concerned with doing the right thing, why have you been avoiding me all week? I know you saw my text yesterday, too. So why are you ignoring me?”
There it was.I clenched my jaw, searching for the right words. “Come on. Let’s get you out of this fucking park.”
“To be continued,” Darcy whispered.
“What?” I asked as I helped her up from the ground and guided her hand around my back.
“Nothing.”
22
DARCY
Dominic didn’t live in a sex cave. It was more like a sex palace. His apartment from the lobby to the elevator and all the way down to his massive double front doors justscreamed“money”. And right after the scream of money left your ears ringing, a thousand little voices whispered “sex” all hot and heavy in your ears. It was the sort of place that probably made women throw their panties on their coat rack as soon as they came in and go lay in wait on his bed.
But it took more than money to get my panties off.
He helped me inside and I was relieved to finally get a chance to sit on the couch after hobbling with him for four or five blocks. I’d let myself be distracted from the throb in my ankle by all the envious looks I’d drawn on the street. Just about every woman with a pulse had looked at me like they would’ve chopped off at least a pinky toe to be in my place. If only they knew how frustrating and confusing the man was, maybe they wouldn’t have been so desperate.
“How does it feel?” He asked. He left me on the couch and went to the kitchen where he rummaged in the fridge and produced an ice pack.
“A little tender, but I think I’ll survive,” I said. To be honest, it was probably already good enough that I could’ve walked home, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit that. I was here in his apartment and I felt something in the air–something I wanted to wait and let develop.
He chucked the ice pack my way and I caught it. I pressed it to my ankle and let out a breath of relief as the cold numbed the pain.
“You know, you could’ve just asked for an interview,” he said.
I grinned. “What do you think that text was?”
