Dangerous (7 page)

Amy

I shook my head. He’d surprised me. I’m not a prude; not at all. I’m just not used to people talking like that. So earthy. So blatant.

Fucking.

I played along. Sure, the night I’d met him I’d been dying for a casual screw, but I was drunk. I think I just wanted it to take my mind off Ben. Because really, call it what you like—fucking; screwing; making love if you want to get flowery—it was all pretty ordinary, wasn’t it?

Sure Ryan had this strange effect on my body, where I just had to look at him to feel a tingle of excitement. When I’d left his apartment after seeing him in his underwear, I’d prayed all the way home that Julia would be gone to work already. Because that way I wouldn’t have had to sneak into the bathroom and run the shower while I got myself off. Thankfully she wasn’t. But fuck me, I hadn’t felt like that in a long time, not since… ever?

And now here he was, talking about how there was nothing better than a good fuck.
Phewwww
, it was hot in there all of a sudden. He was watching me intently and all of a sudden I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“It’s hot in here, right?”

He shook his head, a smile playing around his lips.

“Oh.” I glanced down at my menu again and tried to focus. “You moved here recently?”

I realized I was starting to sound like an interviewer, but that was how I reacted to nerves. I got weird. Worse—I knew I’d asked him that before. But it was the first question I’d thought of.

“No. You?”

I shook my head. “I used to live downtown, before… I’ve been staying with my friend Julia. On her couch.”

“Oh?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Long story.”

“Well, go on. Talk it out. Get closure.”

I laughed and closed my menu. “Okay, you’ve made your point.”

He smiled back at me, big, beaming and genuine, and I felt such a bolt of need that it astonished me. “I told you about the burglary, right? Well, I got knocked unconscious. I was in a coma for a month. When I came to, my boyfriend had left me. And—I found out the night I was released from hospital—gone behind my back and given up our apartment. So I’m kinda homeless.”

“Wow,” he whispered softly. “And you just lost your job, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Explains the maniacal drunken table dancing, doesn’t it.”

He smiled and put his hand on mine, surprising me; I’d done the same to him earlier and he’d pulled away.

“I quite liked the maniacal drunken table dancing.”

“You did?”

He nodded.

I felt my face burst out into the biggest idiotic grin, but I couldn’t help it.

“That guy sounds like a tool.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Pretty fucked up behavior.”

“What’s he do, this asshole?”

“He’s a banker.”

“Figures.”

“How so?”

“They’re all assholes.”

“Right.”

He winced. “I mean bankers are. Not accountants. Accountants are awesome.”

“You think?” I asked, laughing.

He nodded. “Yeah, for sure.”

“How many accountants do you know?”

He bit his lip. His lips were full, I noticed. In a sexy way. On anyone else, it might have seemed feminine. Not him, though—he was too rugged for that. I fought to tear my attention away and focus on our conversation.

“One,” he said hoarsely.

I smiled.

“Someone needs to kick that guy’s ass.”

“For letting me go?” I said with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head. “Nah. Well, that too. Mainly for treating you like that. You don’t shit on someone with a head injury.”

I shrugged. “Don’t feel bad. I’ll kick his ass myself when I see him.”

He snorted.

“What’s so funny?”

“I can’t imagine you kicking anything.”

“Hey fuck you. I’ll kick your ass if you don’t stop mocking me.”

He leaned across the table. “Great. I look forward to it.”

My breath caught in my throat. The look in his eye. It was unmistakable. It was…

“So what can I get you folks to eat?”

I cursed our server in that moment. The tension at our table dissipated, leaving me frustrated and wanting. I opened my menu, suddenly no longer interested in food.

“I’ll have the gnocchi.”

“Same.”

He glanced from Ryan to me and back again. “Okay. I’ll leave you guys to it.”

I smiled. I wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. My whole body was buzzing with nerves and excitement. He looked up at me and I felt a physical shock the moment our eyes met.

“Do you have family in the city?” I asked quickly, almost afraid of the extent to which I was drawn to him. I needed to stop fantasizing
right now
and get back to reality if I didn’t want to get hurt.

A shadow crept across his face. For a moment, I thought I’d asked the wrong thing. But then it passed.

“A brother.”

“Oh awesome. I’ve always wanted a brother. Are you guys close?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Oh.”

I was surprised when he continued talking.

“He’s a cop. We come from a family of cops. My dad. My grandpa. My uncles.”

“They expected you to join too, huh?”

He shrugged. “I joined the military instead.”

I smiled. “Some kind of army/cop rivalry between you guys?”

He turned and glanced out the window, the muscles in his jaw pulsating.

“I’m sorry. Am I being too nosy?”

He laughed half-heartedly. “No. No you’re not. You’re great.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated, you know? That was a long time ago.”

“What about your folks?” I asked, making room on the tables for our plates which had just arrived.

He shook his head. “They’re gone now.”

“Oh.”

Fuck
. In movies, the characters always bonded over anecdotes about their perfect families. I resolved to add family to my list of banned topics on dates. I thought of Ben for the first time in days—his mom had raised him alone and he’d never known his father.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. What about you?”

I shook my head. “Mom walked out on us when I was ten.”

“Your father?” He didn’t flinch.

“He’s in Seattle.”

“See much of him?”

“Nah. My stepmom’s a bitch. She hates us spending time together.”

He grinned. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d let that get in your way.”

I laughed and slapped his hand. Our eyes met and I felt another sharp surge deep inside.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. He made no attempt to pull his hand away from mine. “I just meant you seem ballsy. Like you don’t take shit from no one.”

I thought about it. “Yeah, I used to like thinking of myself as ballsy, but now I dunno…”

“Why?” He leaned closer.

“I dunno. Getting knocked unconscious? I always thought I was able to stick up for myself.”

He shook his head. “That’s not a bad reflection on you. How many were there?”

“No idea. The cops still haven’t found any leads.”

“And you don’t remember anything?”

“No.”

I’d been trying, alright. But there was nothing. Sometimes I dreamed about it, but the only reason I knew that was because I woke up screaming and terrified. I never remembered the actual dream.

He squeezed my hand. “Just because you got beat up doesn’t mean you’re not ballsy. I’ve seen guys twice your size cry like babies in conflict. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

I looked down; a surge of emotion welling up inside me. This time, it had nothing to do with my attraction to him. “I didn’t even try to fight back, though. That’s the thing,” I whispered.

A strange kind of relief came over me then, now that I’d put it into words.

“Don’t blame yourself,” he murmured, turning serious. “What have the doctors said? Do they know if you were surprised? Snuck up on?”

I shook my head. “No. They weren’t able to tell me much more than that the injury was caused by a heavy, blunt object.”

“To the back of your head.”

“Yeah.”

“There you go then. Whoever it was hit you from behind, like a fucking coward. You might not have had time to react. And anyway…”

“Go on.”

He glanced out the window and exhaled. “Too many people fight back blindly without paying any attention to who they’re fighting. Sometimes it’s best to walk away and admit defeat.”

I frowned. “Do you? Walk away?”

His expression hardened. “No. But I should have.”

I swallowed. I didn’t have to ask anymore to know that he was talking about his fiancée. The one who’d been murdered.

“Is that why you left the military?”

His expression darkened. “I told you. I don’t believe in that hippy talk-it-out bullshit.”

I shrugged. Every time I felt like we’d made progress, it felt like he pulled away from me. “That’s what you do on a date. Talk.”

He sat back and pulled his hand away. “Who said this was a date?”

I balked, not knowing how to react.

He was thinking about it. I could see it in his face. Suddenly I’d had enough. I didn’t care that I had no place else to be, or that my attraction to him was threatening to overwhelm me.

“You know what?” I said, standing up and flinging my napkin on the table beside my untouched gnocchi.

He looked up, alarm flickering across his face. “I was just—”

“Just kidding? Really? No, you weren’t, you were rude and cold the moment I turned up on your doorstep. And you know what? Fine. Be a dick. But I’m not going to be the fool who puts up with it.”

I turned around and stomped to the door, ignoring the curious looks of the servers and the other customers.

Outside, I turned in opposite direction to the way we’d come, toward Julia’s apartment. I marched along the street, chewing the inside of my cheek as I went. It was late now; the streets were dark and deserted.

Tiny shards of logic tried to poke through my rage, asking why the hell I’d just blown up like that. I ignored them; buried them away in the back of my brain. I turned a corner at a familiar-looking store and walked on, simmering all the while.

If Julia and Tony were still cuddled up on the couch, I didn’t care. I was going to tell him to fuck off back to the bar and let me get some sleep. I walked on, wondering what the hell she was doing with him in the first place. She was hot and smart and funny, and I didn’t just think that because she was my best friend. She was. Yet she attracted such dependent assholes, it wasn’t even funny.

I sniffed sardonically when I realized the hypocrisy. Who was I to criticize her choices? My ex-boyfriend had been a passionless asshole. Even before the break-in, sometimes I’d spend the night alone because he was out with friends until five in the morning. At least Tony wanted to spend time with her.

And Ryan? How was he any different? He hadn’t called me, and I’d turned up at his door regardless. And I’d insisted we go out together, even though he’d looked about as pleased to see me as he might have been a debt collector. Sure, he’d seemed to open up at the restaurant and there was a definite chemistry between us, but shit, that was no reason to chase him, was it?

Am I just destined to fall for guys who don’t really want me?

I was mulling that thought when I realized two things in quick succession, which made my heart jolt with fear. One. I had no idea where I was. I’d gone from Ryan’s to Julia’s before, but that had been during the daytime, with a killer hangover. And I suspected I’d spent the entire walk foolishly daydreaming about what it would be like if Ryan was my boyfriend.

Second, and more pressing, was the sense that I was being followed. I quickened my already rapid pace and stared to the side. This part of town was dimly-lit, but I was sure I’d sensed someone in my peripheral vision. I was sweating with fear. I glanced behind me without slowing down. There were several people on the street behind me; none close enough to cause such alarm. Was I imagining it?

I glanced around. Nothing on this street was familiar. I moved closer to the curb—there was moderate traffic on the street, but there hadn’t been a cab for several minutes.

Shit.

I walked on, focusing all my attention on the traffic lights at the intersection up ahead. With any luck, I’d recognize the cross street and get my bearings. As long as I stuck to main streets, I should be alright, right? I tried to comfort myself, but all I could feel was terror. It felt familiar too.

A shiver ran up my back. I couldn’t explain it. I turned around again, expecting to come face-to-face with a would-be attacker. Again, there was no one close enough to explain my panic.