Page 17 of Playing Flirty

Perhaps I was overreacting. Patrick was working. I suppose I wouldn’t want him arriving half-naked while I was chasing a deadline.

I took the stairs as fast as I could, desperate to change my clothing. As I reached the second floor, my knees wobbled, and I lost my footing. A lightning bolt of pain traveled up my right leg, shooting up my side and screaming at my ankle.

Stupid, awful heels.

Falling forward, my hands hit the stone tiles, shielding my face from impact. Pain thumped through me. I lifted my arm to the railing and pulled myself up, afraid to put pressure on my foot. Shaun’s apartment door was almost near enough to touch.

“Shaun?” I called.

Nothing.

I shifted my weight onto my right side, and agony shook through my nerves, almost blinding me.

The physical pain was only slightly better than the emotional one.

Round 7

Using the wall for support, I dragged myself to Shaun’s front door. IfThe Walking Deadneeded more cast members, this would make for an excellent audition.

Reaching the door, I curled my hand into a fist and banged. If they were having sex, it should be done by now. I hoped.

But my bad luck continued. And instead of my two best friends, William opened the door. His dark eyes widened, and his lips parted.

But today was the one day I couldn’t handle his sarcastic nongreeting greeting, so I limped past him and dropped my bags on the ground before looking around. The living room and kitchen were empty, and the bathroom and Shaun’s bedroom door stood open.

“They’re not here,” he said.

I held back the fresh wave of tears that threatened.

William’s eyes traveled from my face down to my evil shoes. His eyebrows drew close as though trying to make sense of my clothing.

“Where are they?” My tone was desperate. “Both their cars are parked downstairs.”

“Out—they walked. Went to get dinner.” Still standing in the doorway, William’s gaze lingered on mine.

A traitorous tear escaped, and I wobbled toward the doorway. Of all the people to witness my breakdown, did it have to be William frikken Ashdern? I would never stop hearing about this.

He stepped aside, and I ground my teeth to block the pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quiet. If he wasn’t the only person in the room, I would not have believed it was him talking.

“I’m fine.” I placed my weight onto my injured ankle and winced.

Reaching for the wall, I threw myself against it and inhaled a deep breath, then pushed myself forward. Before I could take another step, two large hands gripped both sides of my waist. With one quick flip, William threw me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.

“What are you doing?” I choked out as he carried me inside the apartment. “Put me down, you Neanderthal.” I’d never been stuck on someone’s shoulder before, so I banged my fists against his firm back, but it made no difference.

Once more, my body twirled around as he carefully placed me on the couch. It wrapped around me like a hug—one I desperately wanted. Before I could say anything, William kneeled in front of me and unstrapped my sandal with a light touch I didn’t know he was capable of.

A deep line divided his brows as he rotated my foot. “Does this hurt?”

“N-no,” I stammered, noting his hot palms before a shock of pain raced through me. I pulled my leg back. “Ow!”

Straightening to his full height, he went to the kitchen and returned with a bag of frozen peas, a glass of water, and a bottle of ibuprofen. “This should help with the pain. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“I know that.” I moved my feet to the floor, and my ankle throbbed. “That’s why I was leaving.”

“Don’t get up.” He walked back to the kitchen and dug around in a cupboard above the stove. “You shouldn’t put pressure on it. Plus, they’ll probably be back soon if you want to wait.”

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