Page 34 of Vows of Betrayal

And I might have participated in that kiss. For a while.

I finally pulled my head away and backed up. “You're bananas. But not as bananas as me. Because I'm going to take you in. For one week. Do you hear me? One freaking week, Stefan. And that's it. You should be healed enough by then to call a cab and go home.”

He grinned and yanked me down for another kiss. “Deal,” he said against my lips.

Then I helped the bossy, stubborn man out of the car. It was no small feat. It took us forever. And then he had to sit on the seat with his legs hanging out of the car for a while. He felt nauseous and dizzy. I gave him some water—and waited for him to get his bearings.

The only godsend was the cane he grabbed from the floor of the back seat. When I asked him where he got it from, he said, “You don’t wanna know.”

So, I dropped that subject.

Getting a gunshot victim up the stairs to my apartment was another trial of the unfittest. He sat down a dozen times. At least. I honestly thought I'd have to give in and call the fire department to come and get him down. It wasn't like I could carry him.

At least these were outside stairs, so they wouldn't have to struggle in a narrow hallway.

Eventually, we got him up the stairs and into my tiny apartment.

We stumbled together to the bed. Stefan was so exhausted by then, I thought for sure he was going to die right there. “What smells like corned beef?” he asked as I grabbed his feet and lifted them onto my bed.

“Probably corned beef. I think Bernie's also cooking roast beef.” I gave the air a sniff. Yeah. Definitely roast beef as well. “There's a butcher below me, remember? I told you that. He sells all kinds of meat. A few other things, too.”

Stefan chuckled. Or he tried to, anyway. He was panting so hard that even breathing was difficult for him at the moment. “Ah, yeah. The guy who wants to fuck you. I forgot.” His chest moved up and down at a frantic pace.

“What? He does not.” I frowned at him and started to undo the buttons on his shirt.

“Yeah, he does. And when I get my strength back, he and I will have a little talk.”

I rolled my eyes and opened his shirt. “Crap, you're bleeding. Let me take a look.” I slowly removed the bandage and assessed his wound. “It actually doesn't look bad. Let me grab a few things from the closet.” Occasionally, a few supplies might make their way back to my place. I didn't feel bad about taking the odd bandage home. They paid me next to nothing. I figured I deserved a perk or two.

I came back with my little box and set about fixing him up. He sucked in his breath when I disinfected his wound, but otherwise, he never said a word. When I was finished bandaging him up again, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. “Thank you.” He kissed me. Nice. And gentle. Stefan was a wonderful kisser. I mean, I didn't exactly have anyone to compare him to. But the way he kissed always made my toes curl.

“I would say you're welcome. But you're not. You should be at home with your family.”

Stefan kissed me one more time before letting go. “No, I should be here with you.”

I stood and cleaned up the old bandages and gauze pads. After I washed my hands, I picked up the dishtowel and turned to Stefan. “I hope you like cereal because that's all I've got.” He was still lying in the same position, shirt wide open displaying his torso. Even all sweaty and disheveled, he was undeniably the most handsome man I'd ever seen.

Actually, his tousled hair and glistening skin were not a turnoff. Not at all.

Stefan could absolutely pose for any fashion magazine around.

“Sounds good,” he said, his breathing better now. And that was a relief. It wasn't like I had a tank of oxygen here. If things went bad, I'd have to call an ambulance.

I poured two bowls of cereal for us and then pulled the milk out of the fridge. There was half a jug left. I would have to make it work for the rest of the week. Before I sloshed the milk in, I dumped half of my cereal back into the box. Stefan probably wasn't used to rationing out his food. And he was still on the mend. He needed the calories more than I did. I grabbed a couple packs of sugar from the cupboard and two spoons from the drawer. Then I walked over to the bed with our supper.

Stefan took the bowl. I dropped the sugar packets beside him.

Then I sat on the small couch.

There wasn't a whole lot of room in here. But I counted myself lucky to have a couch and a bed. This place came already furnished, thank goodness. It wasn't like I had money to buy furniture.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. I surfed around until I found a show about rich housewives. There was always good drama happening somewhere in their world.

I ate slowly, trying to make it last. I'd have to try and swipe something from the hospital tomorrow.

“Is that all you're eating?” Stefan asked over a mouthful of cereal. A few drops of milk dripped down his chin before he wiped it.

I nodded and smiled. “I'm not that hungry,” I lied and went back to watching the show. Two of the women were yelling at each other. One of them had accused the other of sleeping with her husband. It was getting juicy.

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