Page 39 of Meet Me at the Metro

“Mmm. Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so,” she huffs, rolling her eyes. “You’re always running—ruining,” she corrects, “my vibe.”

“Vibe?” I snort. “Is that what carried your arse up on that stage tonight? Or was it all the liquid courage you drank?”

“None of your business!”

“You’re fucking sloshed right now,” I chuckle, taking hold of her woundless arm to steady her swaying body. “How many shots did you have, huh?”

“Was Mr. Bartender not keeping track?”

“Considering I wasn’t the one pouring them, no,” I smirk. The wind and rain continue harassing us, making her wet hair stick against her cheeks. “I’m gonna guess five, judging how you’re slurring your words right now.”

“Close,” she drunkenly smiles.

“Four?”

She nods eagerly and holds a pointed finger high in the air. “Ding, ding, ding!”

“You know, I seem to learn something new about you every time our paths cross.”

“Yeah, like what?” She’s grinning as she looks at me through the messy strands of hair plastered to her round face as we approach the entrance door to the flat.

First of all, she looks really damn good in blue. I don’t dare say that out loud, though.

“You’re a bloody lightweight.”

Nora’s giggles fill my ears as I sort through the ring of keys in my slippery fingers. As I work to unlock the door, she pulls my body closer to hers to steal some of my warmth. I try not to dwell too much on the press of her soaked clothes against my skin as I finally manage to push it open and motion her drunk self inside.

While it’s significantly warmer within these walls, she’s still trembling with shivers beside me. Her arms tighten around herself, clutching her chest firmly as we move for the steps. Our shoes make God-awful noises as we step across the slick, tiled floor.

As I tread up the stairs, a loudsqueakandthudsound behind me. My head darts back at the abrupt commotion, and I’m not surprised a bit when I find Nora sprawled out on her back against the floor—laughing her arse off.

“Fucking hell!” I shake my head, chuckling a little as I hurry to her side. I quickly wrap the loosened apron back against her hurt arm and hoist her to her feet. “You’re the most clumsy thing I’ve ever met.”

“Ow!Theo, wait!”

I snake my arm under her shoulders, taking the weight off her, and blurt,“What?”

Nora tests her strength again, carefully touching the sole of her foot back down against the floor. “Ow! Shit!”

“Nora, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know! It’s my ankle, I think.”

She takes hold of the stair railing as I crouch in front of her. I swiftly unstrap the heels off her feet and examine her hurt ankle closely, noticing how quickly the skin around the joint is already starting to swell. The pads of my fingers lightly graze the area, and she immediately flinches.

“That hurts like abitccch!”

“Sorry,” I frown, providing lighter strokes to her skin. “What the hell are we going to do with you? You honestly need to start wearing your own damn caution sign.”

I stand, hooking my fingers around the straps of her shoes before I scoop her body into my arms.

She immediately protests, wriggling like a worm. “What are you doing?! Put me down right now! I can make it up these stairs my-damn-self!”

“Oh, spare me, Nora.” I roll my eyes. “Your ankle is fucked. You can let me carry you up these steps, or we can sit out here the rest of the night, and both bloody freeze.”

“Isaid I can walk up them myself.”

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