Page 57 of Fire in You

Brock laughed as he shut my door. I managed to get myself buckled in by the time he was behind the wheel. “You doing okay over there?”

“I’m doing perfect.” I plopped my purse in my lap, cuddling it close. “Avery and Teresa are really excited about the space . . .” I spent the trip to my apartment going into detail about how excited they were. Brock listened, and whenever I looked over at him, he was grinning as he concentrated on the road. It seemed like it took only seconds to get to my apartment complex. I blinked, and we were in the parking lot, and I was staring up at my darkened window. Unease crowded the happy buzz in my veins. It was early, not even ten o’clock, and the only living thing in my apartment was Rhage, and it was a Friday night. Being alone on the weekends sucked, because everyone else was out there. I didn’t know where exactly, but they werethere, and I was over here, doing nothing.

“I’m walking you up,” he announced, turning off the car. He twisted toward me. “You think you can manage those stairs?”

Offended, I swung my head around and nearly toppled over. “I can walk.”

Even in the dark interior I could see the amusement etched into his face. “Are you seriously going to sit there and act like you’re not drunk?”

“I am a . . . little tipsy.”

“I never would’ve guessed that,” he replied dryly.

“It’s your fault,” I grumbled, opening the door. I started to get out and then choked myself with the seatbelt. “Damn it.”

Brock laughed. “I’m not denying that.”

It took me a couple of moments to get out of the car. “But I can fully walk up those stairs.” I pointed at them just in case he had no idea what I was talking about. “I don’t need your help.”

Grinning, he slowly approached me. “Okay. You don’t need my help, but how about I offer it to you anyway?”

I stared up at him, eyes squinty. “When did you become such a gentleman?”

“I’m not a gentleman.” He took hold of my hand. “Trust me.”

“I don’t know about that.” I let him guide me across the parking lot. “Wait. You know what would be great? Ice cream.” Slipping my hand free, I wheeled around and started heading back to his fancy car. “We could go get ice cream.”

“Come back here,” he said, laughing. Circling an arm around my waist, he turned me back around. “Let’s wait on the ice cream. See if we want to eat that in a little bit.”

“Why?”

“Might make your stomach a bit upset after drinking the whiskey.”

“Hmmm. That sounds legit.” I stopped talking because I found we were in front of the steps and I needed to concentrate. They proved more difficult than anticipated.

At my door, I slipped my purse off my shoulder and found my keys where the hall swayed a bit. I pulled them out and promptly dropped them.

Brock swiped them off the floor, moving ninja-fast. “I got it.”

“Yes.” I watched him unlock my front door. “Yes. You do.”

Shaking his head, he opened the door. “Get in.”

I stumbled in, throwing out my hand and hitting the switch on the wall. Soft buttery light flooded the living room. My gaze immediately landed on Rhage. He was sitting on the coffee table and his little yellow cat eyes were full of judgment.

“Stop staring at me,” I muttered, trudging forward. Then I stopped, remembering that Brock was there. I turned. He was still standing in the doorway. “You coming in?”

“You want me to?” he asked.

“Yes.” Then I nodded, just in case he was confused.

Watching me with that grin on his face, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Then he walked over to the island and placed my keys on it. “You got water in the fridge?”

“I got water in the faucets, too.” I toed off my heels and kicked them against the wall. Sighing, I wiggled my toes.

Brock snorted as he walked to the fridge. “You got any pain relievers?”

“Why? You got a headache?” Feeling warm, too warm, I walked toward the window, about to open it when I realized that would require a lot of effort at the moment. I looked down at myself and remembered that I had a tank top on under the sweater-blouse.

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