Page 32 of Scrooge

“Ouch!” I whine as my knee collides with the sidewalk, the graze stinging my knee and ripping a small hole in my jeans.

“Haylee!” Alex shouts, and I look up to see his concerned face, the camera lights blinding, the media pack now in a frenzy, getting exactly the shot they wanted.

Without a word, Alex bends down and picks me up, one hand under my knees and the other around my back bridal style, pulling me to his chest. I loop my hands around his neck and tuck my head. I close my eyes, this frantic mess becoming too much. Alex strides a few more steps to the car, where Dan is waiting with the door open, and places me inside.

“Penthouse, Dan,” he grits out as I slide along the soft black leather seats, and he climbs in after me. The noise ceases to exist the minute the door is closed.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice deep, his hands running over my face and down my shoulders, looking me over inch by inch.

“Just my knee,” I tell him. I feel short of breath, like I have run a marathon, even though I literally walked like ten steps. His hands continue to cover me, worry etched in his expression. I swallow, trying to calm down a little as my heart races.

“Show me,” he says as his large hands encase my knee and he lifts it over onto his.

Dan starts to drive away, the flashes and yells now behind us as Alex gently looks at the rip in my jeans.

“A small graze,” he says, his jaw clenching.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” I attempt to pull my leg from him. It all feels stupid, really. Apparently, I am not as coordinated as I thought.

“They are such assholes. I will increase our security. I had no idea that they were that big of a scrum tonight; otherwise, I wouldn’t have walked us out of there.” His eyes are still assessing me as he shakes his head in frustration.

“All part of the contract, right?” I say lightheartedly, because I thought media attention is what he needed. He finally looks up to meet my eyes, not happy, and I roll my lips. He has been grumpy for most of the time I’ve known him, but now he just looks angry.

“You should stay at my penthouse tonight. I will fix up your knee,” he says as his hand warmly holds my leg, one of his fingers lazily running up and down my calf in a soothing motion. I’m almost too distracted by the tickling motion that it takes a moment for what he just said to sink in.

“What?” I ask, my heart pounding harder. “I’m fine. It’s just a graze.”

“Well, we are being followed, and at some point, you are going to have to start staying over to make what we’re doing more believable. Plus, it is getting late… and I want to look at your knee properly.”

I look at my watch; it isn’t late. It’s only almost nine. But it’s like my brain is completely rendered useless.

“But I don’t have an overnight bag…” I say, a little unsure.

“It’s fine. I can get you anything you need just for one night,” he says, looking adamant that I stay. I roll my shoulders back and think for a moment before I start pulling at my ear.

“I have a spare room and guest bathroom. You will have your own space,” he tells me, and I feel a little more at ease.

“Oh, um…” I haven’t spent the night with a man for many months now. My cheeks heat thinking about it, and I look outside the windows and take in a deep breath. He’s right; we’re going to have to do this soon anyway. And I’d rather not have any media following me to my sister’s. I’ll be safest with him, and I can keep my family safe too. “Okay… sure. That makes sense,” I say, nodding, dropping my hand and wiping my palms on my jeans. Like he knows I need some comfort, his hand lands on mine, giving it a light squeeze.

In what feels like record time, the car stops at his apartment, and Dan opens the door.

“Elevator is already waiting, sir,” he says to Alex, and we slide out.

“Shall I carry you?” Alex asks, and I smile at his chivalry.

“I can walk,” I tell him, but his frown still hasn’t disappeared. He looks down to my knee like he is unsure, but I take a few steps, and together we enter the elevator.

My heart is almost thundering through my chest, and I am pretty sure my ear is bright red and swollen as the private elevator arrives at his penthouse.

“We’re here.” He puts his arm out, and I step forward in front of him, standing right inside his domain. I swallow as I take it all in. It is like something out of the movies. Almost exactly how I envisioned. Shiny marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, everything shiny, polished, and cleaned to a high-shine perfection. No photos, no magazines scattered on the coffee table, no random remote control on the sofa. Everything has its place. It looks like a showroom, one that doesn’t allow sitting on the furniture.

“Let me take your coat,” he offers, grabbing it from my shoulders, and I shrug it off. Well, I guess we are doing this. I am not sure if this is entirely bonkers or completely savvy. Either way, as far as the media are concerned, I am staying here tonight and we are now officially a new couple about town. He hangs my coat in a small cupboard recessed into the wall. No handle, entirely inconspicuous, and absolutely brilliant in its design.

“So have you lived here long?” I ask, my sneakers making a small squelching sound in the otherwise silent room as I walk on the polished marble floor. My heart races, feeling renewed nerves. I don’t know why; it is just business. An agreement. A seasonal fake fling. Yet my palms are sweating like it is a real date, and ever since he grabbed my hand at the bowling alley earlier and pressed his lips to mine, my senses have been on overload.

“I’ve had this place for a while. Lived here for the past twelve months or so. Here, take a seat on the sofa. Let me get a cool cloth.” As he walks past me and into his kitchen, I take a seat on his sofa. I look around again. It’s like he just moved in and hasn’t had time to finish decorating.

“I’m fine now, really,” I tell him as he strides over and kneels on the floor.

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