Page 27 of Raging Inferno

Chapter Eight

My Shadow Is Moving Without His

I had the strangest dream last night. It started off with me on a date with Jimmy Casale. He took me to a fancy Italian restaurant and while we shared a bottle of wine; he told me all about himself. Everything was moving smoothly until he held my hand. Things got a little fuzzy after that and the sweet dream quickly escalated into a nightmare of sorts. The kind where the woman actually gets wasted and makes a fool of herself.

I woke up sweating and quickly sat upright, trying to shake the horrid thoughts from my head. However, the moment I lifted my head I felt like I was hit by a truck. The searing pain in my temples caused me to groan, and I fell back onto the plush couch.

“Oh, good, you’re alive,” Amber mutters. “Now, I can kill you with my bare hands.”

“Lower your voice,” I plead. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Hold on, let me get my violin,” she replies. Her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Willing the room not to spin, I open one eye and peer at her. She extends her hands, offering me two tiny pills and a bottle of orange soda.

“What’s this?”

“Fireman’s orders,” she mutters.

Both eyes open now, I try to sit up slowly.

“Oh my God,” I groan, taking the aspirins from her. “It wasn’t a dream was it?”

“Nope, not a dream,” she replies, handing me the soda. “You most definitely went out with the sexy fireman, got sloshed and had him carry you home.”

“Oh my God,” I shriek, lifting my hands to cover my face. The room stops swaying and clarity begins to wash over me. My voice rings in my ears, replaying every ridiculous word that came out of my mouth. “I told him my hymen must’ve grown back!”

“Well at least you were honest,” Amber offers, shrugging her shoulders as she sits next to me. “Usually first dates are full of lies and false pretenses.”

“I fell into his lap and blamed the floor,” I add, my eyes going wide. “Oh God, I threw up all over the bathroom.”

“Well, it could be worse. You could’ve thrown up on him.”

Turning my head, I glare at her.

“You’re not helping.”

“Who said I was trying to?”

Leaning forward she grabs a brown paper bag off the coffee table and drops it in my lap.

“Your knight and shining armor dropped this off at the crack of dawn,” she reveals.

“He was here?”

“Sure was,” she replies. “I stayed up all night making sure you didn’t die swallowing your own vomit and just as I was about to fall asleep, there was a knock on your door. Mr. Hero didn’t trust me not to take care of you and dropped off a bottle of Bayer, a liter of orange soda and the greasiest bacon egg and cheese sandwich I’ve ever seen.”

“This is all your fault,” I sneer, shoving her shoulder. “You put those little bottles in my purse.”

“Yeah, I must’ve poured them down your throat too,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You do realize you’re freaking out over nothing, right?”

“Amber, I haven’t been on a date since I started dating Chris. The first time I go out with a man, I make a complete jackass out of myself. I have every right to freak out. I told you this was a mistake. Clearly, I’m not cut out for any of this.”

“Did you not hear the part about him stopping over this morning to make sure you were okay? And I completely snooped through your texts last night. He wants to take you out again,” she says, handing me my phone. “If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.”

Taking the phone from her, I pull up the last text message Jimmy sent me and to my surprise, Amber’s right.

“He was a complete gentleman, Melissa. Another guy may have taken advantage of your condition but Jimmy took care of you. He made sure you got home safely, and he checked in. Take it from a girl who has kissed her fair share of toads, there aren’t many of his kind floating around.”

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