Page 13 of Ever With Me

She took him through the back hallway and up the stairs, her brain spinning. Maybe she’d wake up and find out this had all been a weird dream. She could practically imagine herself seeing Travis, Garrett, and Dan at something around town and telling them about the strange nightmare with theWizard of Oz’s “. . . and you were there . . .and you were there . . .”line.

Brooks was oddly quiet as he followed her. His cheap shot about how much this sucked compared to his celebrity lifestyle stung—not that it didn’t make sense. But it also made her embarrassed to bring him up here. He was wealthy and had traveled the world.

Something about that made her feel like a country bumpkin from the backwoods.

She held the door to the apartment open. “Right through here.”

Thank goodness the door to her room was mostly closed. She could just barely see the mess through the slit in the door—she’d have to sneak over there and close it.

She flipped on a light in the living room and pointed at the couch. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

He sat, and she avoided looking at him once again.

This is just too weird.

She needed to stop acting like a star-struck dope and get on with it. The sooner she patched up his hand, the sooner he could get out of here, and this whole strange episode would be over.

The first-aid kit was under the kitchen sink. She washed her hands and grabbed it, along with a bottle of peroxide. Going back toward him, she sat and unzipped the case, then set it on the coffee table, reaching for his wounded left hand. “Let me take a look.”

“I can clean it up.”

“It’s your dominant hand,” she said with a frown.

Brooks scanned her face. “How do you know that?”

She bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t given her former fangirl self away. She’d always liked the fact that she shared the lefty trait with someone famous like him. “You play left-handed guitar, don’t you?”

His eyes met hers, and he nodded.

He didn’t protest further and, instead, extended his hand for her. She took it gently. The cut wasn’t terribly deep, but it crossed most of his palm.Ouch.“I’m so sorry again,” she murmured as she started cleaning it with peroxide.

“Accidents don’t require apologies.”

Really? What an odd life philosophy.She frowned. “That’s not true. Just because something wasn’t done purposely doesn’t mean there wasn’t hurt inflicted. Or fault. Otherwise, how do you explain manslaughter sentences?”

His expression darkened. “I was just saying?—”

“No, you were just excusing. You didn’t mean to ram your car into my store, did you? But that doesn’t absolve your responsibility for wrecking the place.”

The space between them filled with tense silence once again, and she kept her head down, focusing on cleaning the cut. It was too long for even a large Band-Aid, so she pulled out some pieces of gauze and the tape instead.

Maybe she’d spoken too harshly. But something about his statement had unsettled her. Disappointed her. Not that she’d expected much out of him—she’d seen in the tabloids over the years that he had a reputation for partying hard and leaving a trail of broken hearts.

When she’d finished bandaging his hand, he sat back and rubbed his eyes. “Thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I wrecked your place, after all.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. Was he mocking her?

She didn’t have the energy to deal with another jerk. Not after spending the past couple of weeks mourning Josh. She was ready to swear men off altogether.

She checked the clock on her wall. Wow. Almost five thirty. She needed sleep.

For that matter, Brooks probably did, too. He looked just as tired as she felt.

She nodded stiffly and stood. “I’ll be right back. Just going to wash up. You sure I can’t get you a cup of coffee or something?”

“Yeah, I guess coffee would be good. I need to call a friend who has a family cabin nearby, but my service keeps disappearing.”

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