Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (47 page)

Instead, I focused on the one thing that might capture her interest enough to push those other issues aside.  My mysterious stranger.  “You know the guy who was in the alley getting stabbed before I showed up?”

Daphne nodded, she knew the basics at least.

“I could’ve sworn he was at the hospital too, visiting me when I was in intensive care.”

“But I thought you weren’t supposed to have visitors?”  A disgruntled tone crept into her voice at having been denied the same privilege.

“No, I wasn’t, and the nurse said no one had been allowed in.  So I figured I must have imagined it, right?”  I licked my lips, forging on.  “And then the next night I dreamed about him again, that he came to visit me while I slept.  But not in a creepy, stalkerish way, more like he was looking out for me.”

Daphne nodded again, waiting for me to get to the good part she knew must be coming from my tone of voice.

“I figured it was all in my head, but when we left the hospital, I saw him on the street and he looked right at me.”

“And?” she prompted, leaning forward in her seat. 

“And... that’s it, I saw him and he saw me and he definitely knew me, that’s all.  Don’t you think that’s kinda weird?” 

Doubt clouded her pretty features, and I could tell she searched for the right thing to say.  “Yes, I guess so.  But maybe he was coming to visit you?  Maybe he found out you were out of the ICU and wanted to visit you to say thanks for saving his life?” 

Obviously she didn’t think there was anything strange about that, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more between us.  A connection I couldn’t describe.  “I just thought it was an odd coincidence to see him on the street like that,” I said with a half shrug. 

“Tell me about him, was he cute?”  Warming to the subject, she picked up a pillow and hugged it to her middle.

I couldn’t help but smile in response, it’d been too long since we had some good girl talk over a guy.  A while since I’d been in a real relationship, the last few guys I hooked up with turned out to be total losers.  The last one even asked me to pay for my half of dinner right after he gave me the
it’s not you, it’s me
speech.  He ended up with a lap full of linguine and I had to catch the bus home.

“He
was
cute,” I grinned.  “In a kind of scruffy way.  Not in the
I’m cool, here is my perpetual unshaven look
like Steve, remember Steve?”  I groaned, oh how I wish I could forget
him.
  “But in a cute, clueless sort of way.  Like a big puppy.”  I was explaining it badly, I knew that, but I didn’t think saying he dressed like a homeless guy would present the right mental image.  “Tall, blonde and handsome though, what’s not to like?”

“Like a big puppy?  I didn’t think that was your type.  Isn’t that how you described Walter from work?”

Walter worked as a bouncer at the club.  Despite the muscles and deliberately grim expression he wore at work, I found he was a gentle, almost bashful man.  He was also a bit sweet on me, though I never felt a love connection there.  “Walter is more like a big, loyal dog than a puppy,” I considered aloud.  “He’s sweet and trustworthy but there’s no spark, you know?”

Daphne nodded, she got it.  “But you feel a spark with this other guy?”

“I don’t know, I mean, I’ve never even spoken to him.” 

“Maybe you should find this guy then?  I bet the cops will track him down,” she suggested, blowing on her tea, and I shook my head. 

“No, the cops didn’t even know he’d been in the alley with me, they have no idea who he is.  But the detective did seem interested in him, so maybe he’ll track him down.”

“No fair, the police got to visit you before I did?” Daphne pouted. 

“Yeah, they came to see me practically as soon as I was awake.  They already know who the guy was that attacked me though, that was pretty impressive.”

“They do?  That was fast.  Do they need you to pick him out of a lineup or anything?”

“I don’t know, they hadn’t picked him up yet when I talked to the guy.  He seemed pretty confident they’d get him soon though.”  I smiled at the recollection of the conversation.  Detective Gates had been much more personable than I’d been expecting from the police department.

“Hey, wait a minute, I know that smile.  Was the
cop
cute too?” Daphne teased, and I felt my cheeks grow warm. 

“He was attractive, yes,” I admitted, remembering his engaging smile.  “But come on, he’s a cop.”  Not that I had anything against law enforcement, it just wasn’t something I’d really considered before.

Daphne snorted at that.  “So?  You don’t think they date?  It’s not like you’re a criminal or anything.  It wouldn’t hurt you to go out with a nice guy for a change.”

“Just because he’s a cop doesn’t mean he’s a nice guy,” I pointed out, reaching for my own tea that had turned a deep purple, the way I liked it.

“But was he?” 

Definitely a nice guy, it was his defining characteristic.  “Yes, he was,” I admitted. 

“You should call him up and ask him if he’s been able to track down the other guy.  If he has, then great, you can give your big, blonde puppy a call.  If not, then maybe you and the cop can get together for a little interrogation or something.”  She waggled her eyebrows at me, and we both laughed.

“Maybe I will.  But I’m not doing anything today but taking it easy.”  I was pretty sure a trained detective would want to know why I was out of the hospital already.

“Good,” she nodded with approval.  “I can stick around until two, then I have to get to work.”  Daphne worked in a call center for a market research company.  Which was a nice way of saying she was one of those annoying people who called you at dinnertime and asked you to take a survey about what brand of laundry soap you preferred.  She landed me a job there once, but it wasn’t my thing.  Personally, I could never take all the rejection.  People were pretty damn rude to perfect strangers on the phone, but it suited her temperament fine. 

“Okay, thanks.  Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  I’m just going to curl up and wade through some of my Netflix queue.” 

We chatted for a while.  She was dating someone new, and I wanted to hear all about that, of course.  By the time Daphne had to leave for work, I was desperate for a shower.  If I’d been as weak as a kitten, I still would have dragged my mangy butt in there and let the water run over me, even if I had to sit on the bottom of the tub.  As it was I still felt fine, and as soon as I bolted the door after Daphne, I made a beeline for the bathroom to turn the water on.

Speaking of kittens, Mimsy grew less wary of me and condescended to sit at my feet while I visited with Daphne, close but still out of reach for being patted.  When I got up to go into the shower she followed me, sitting in her usual vantage point on the counter to watch, having a love/hate relationship with water. 

The hot shower felt amazing.  I don’t know if it was because it had been a few days, or because of whatever change had come over my body since the stabbing, or secret option number three, but I lingered a lot longer than I needed to.  I came out feeling relaxed and good, until I caught sight of my stitches in the steamy bathroom mirror. 

I had no idea if they were supposed to be dissolving stitches or if they’d have to be removed, but it was clear they weren’t needed anymore.  The skin beneath them looked completely knitted together, even smoother than it had that morning, if possible.  Picking up a pair of slender scissors from the bathroom counter, I carefully snipped through them and pulled the black threads free with a pair of tweezers.  Belatedly, I wondered if I should have sterilized things first, but it was too late.  Except for the faint line across my belly I looked fine.

Better since I was clean, a healthy pink glow returned to my skin.  The eyes were still startling to get used to, and I was glad Daphne hadn’t brought it up.  For the moment all I wanted to do was pull on some comfy pajamas and curl up on the sofa like I promised.  There was time enough to ponder what happened to me and why I felt like a stranger in my own body.

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