“I’m sorry,” Emily says. “Nix wasn’t being nosy; he was just trying to get to know you.”
Yeah, those are one in the same, I think to myself.
“No problem,” I assure her. And it isn’t a problem. I’m pretty sure I put Nix in his place and he’ll be avoiding share time with me from now on.
Flynn takes me out to dinner, to celebrate, he says, for getting a job. He’s in good spirits the entire time and it eventually rubs off on me. It’s so hard for me to maintain my surly distance when he’s constantly smiling and joking around with me. He’s like a drug that makes me happy, and once again, I offer up a small prayer of thanks for bringing him into my life.
After taking a sip of his drink, Flynn looks at me. “So, I wanted to ask…what was the deal with you and Juice? How did you end up with someone like him?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I knew he was bad news but I was drawn to him. It was part of the rebel that still existed inside of me, I guess. And knowing I wouldn’t ever be good enough for someone better than a guy like him, I sort of just settled.”
“Now, that’s just not true. You could have anyone you wanted,” Flynn says with admonishment. “But he definitely wasn’t good enough for you.”
“It took me a while to figure that out. Plus, he just became so possessive. When I tried to leave, I didn’t even have any grand plan. I just quietly packed a bag, hooked Capone’s leash on, and tried to sneak out of the house. He wasn’t as sound asleep as I thought he was.”
“And that’s when he chained you up?”
“Yeah… but after I told him that I would just leave again the next opportunity I got. Dumb move on my part, I suppose, but I never thought he’d keep me prisoner.”
“Was he on drugs or something?”
“Actually, no,” I tell him. “I tried to stay pretty removed from his drug deals, but from what I did see… at that level, you don’t really use the stuff yourself. He treated it very much like a business and I guess you got to have a sharp mind to be successful at it.”
“And stay one step ahead of the cops.”
“That is definitely a good reason not to let your mind get clouded with that shit.”
Flynn gives me a knowing look. “You’ve overcome a lot, Rowan. I’m proud of you.”
My insides warm from his words… the first time anyone has said that to me. They are said with such sincerity, I have no doubt he truly means it.
When we get back to the apartment, Flynn offers to take Capone for his evening walk and I acquiesce, wanting nothing more than a long, hot shower and to get to bed so I can be fresh for my first day of work tomorrow. I let the hot water soak into me as I reflect over the day.
Nix is certainly a piece of work but I really like Emily. I think in my old world, she and I probably would have been friends. In my new world, I’ve only just accepted Flynn as a friend and that’s enough for me right now.
When I finish the shower, I dress in the t-shirt and shorts that Flynn had given me my first night here. I’ve commandeered them as my pajamas but he hasn’t asked for them back so I’m not going to worry about it. Besides... I like wearing Flynn’s clothes to bed. It’s a way to be close to him without really being physically close to him. It’s a way to touch him without ruining our friendship.
I step out of the bathroom, running my fingers through my wet hair. In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water and twist the cap off, taking a long swallow. Glancing over, I see Flynn left his breakfast dishes in the sink so I put the bottle down and start to wash them.
“You don’t have to do it.” Flynn’s voice washes over me, warm, comforting, and even exhilarating. I hate that my body reacts to him this way.
I turn around and give him a casual shrug. He’s standing in the doorway with Capone beside him. “No biggie. But tomorrow, once I start working, we’re sharing in the cleaning duties, fifty-fifty, right?”
“Right,” he assures me. “But will you still clean the toilet? That gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
Rinsing the last plate and wiping it down, I turn around to him. “Seriously? You get freaked out over a toilet? You’re a freakin’ firefighter. Aren’t you supposed to be all macho or something?”
Flynn puts on his most hurt look and places a closed fist on his chest. “You wound me, Rowan. You seriously wound me.”
I lean my hip against the kitchen sink, rolling my eyes at him. “I seriously doubt that wounded you.”
“It did,” he proclaims as he walks to the kitchen sink. Pulling a glass out of the cupboard, he fills it with water and takes a sip. “And when people make fun of me, I tend to retaliate, so I’d be careful if I were you.”
His tone is light and teasing and I instantly smile at him. I fucking just can’t help myself. With a laugh, I playfully punch him on the arm. “Oooohh... I’m so scared. What could you possibly say to me that would wound me?”
Swallowing the last of his water, he sets the glass in the sink and turns the water on. He picks up the sprayer and starts rinsing the glass out. “Well, on occasion... well, really only once before, when someone dared to question my masculinity... I did a little something like this...”
Without warning, Flynn turns the sprayer my way and sprays me right in the face. I’m so stunned, I can’t even react, and he takes the opportunity to wave the sprayer up and down, soaking my entire shirt in the process. Capone sees the water flying and scurries out of the war zone with his tail tucked between his legs.
I finally snap out of it and my first thought is payback. I lunge for him and wrap my hands around his, trying to wrestle the sprayer from his grip. He starts laughing and raises his hands higher, now spraying water down on the top of my head.
“I’m a firefighter. Look at me!” he exclaims as water rains all around me.
I shriek in mock outrage, and decide I’ll never be strong enough to rip it away from him, so I go in for a secondary attack. I drop my arms to his waist and, taking a big gamble, I start to tickle him. I have no clue if he’s ticklish or not, but if he is, the sprayer... and thus victory, will be mine.
The minute my fingertips dig into skin, he jerks almost convulsively. The sprayer drops but I can’t make a grab for it because Flynn now has my hands in his and he’s trying to push me away. He’s now laughing hysterically while I try to tickle him and we are now engaged in a battle to keep my fingertips away from his stomach. As we push and pull against each other, both of us out of breath from laughing, our feet start slipping and sliding on the wet linoleum.
My eyes lock with his, just for a brief moment, and I see pure happiness and joy radiating from his face. Then our feet fly out from under us and we start a free-fall to the kitchen floor. I’m not sure if it’s his firefighting skills, or he’s just a damn good rescuer, but Flynn’s arms wrap around my waist and he manages to turn both of our bodies so he’s underneath me as we go down. We land with a jarring thud, with Flynn taking the impact from the floor and my body on top of his. He winces and exhales loudly.
“Oh, shit,” I say. “Your ribs.”
I sit up immediately and straddle his thighs, my knees coming to rest against the wet floor on either side of him. I carefully lift his shirt up from the hem, revealing his torso. The purple bruise on his ribs is fading and is now a lovely yellow-green. I skim my fingers lightly over it. “Does it hurt?”
His voice comes out gruff. “Not in the slightest.”
I move my eyes to his and they are filled with such intensity and longing, my heart stops cold in my chest. When it resumes its life beat, it starts hammering so hard I think I can hear it.