Page 35 of Finding Forgiveness
My racing heart begins to slow when I realise the crisis has been averted. “I’m sorry,” Cass says, placing her forearm over her mouth and coughing again. I reach for her hand and pull her from the kitchen and across the main room. “Where are you taking me?”
“Out.”
“Oh, my God, are you kicking me out? It was an accident. I didn’t mean to almost burn down your place.”
“I’m not kicking you out, I’m removing you from the smoke-filled apartment. And when I’ve sorted this mess, I’m going to get you checked out for smoke inhalation.”
“I don’t need to see a doctor, Connor.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
So much for my relaxing night.
It’s just after 1 am when I drive into the car park underneath our building. We sat in the emergency for five long hours before a doctor could look over Cassandra. She went back and forth from protesting to apologising the entire time.
“I’m sorry,” she says for the millionth time.
“Stop apologising,” I snap as I put the car into park. I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but I’m tired and pissed off. It’s been a long fucking day, and what she did was reckless. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you attempted to cook something when you have no idea how?”
“Jaz makes it look so easy.”
“So, you thought you’d give it a go? I hope you learnt your lesson.”
“I did, arsehole,” she grumbles, removing her seat belt and swiftly exiting the car.
“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. By the time I get out of the vehicle, she’s already halfway to the lift. “Cass,” I call out, jogging to catch up. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m just tired and annoyed.”
She stabs at the button on the lift aggressively before folding her arms over her chest and turning her head to the side, ignoring me.
I scrub my hands over my face in frustration.
When we step into the lift, I push the button for our floor before stepping back to lean against the wall.
“I was trying to do something nice for you,” she murmurs.
“What?”
“I’ve seen the look on your face when Jaz was living with you, and you’d come home from work to see she’d cooked your dinner.” She lifts one shoulder. “I had the day off, so I went to the butcher and asked for the biggest piece of steak they had … I know how much you like meat.”
She’s right; I’m an arsehole.
I had wondered what she’d been cooking. But by the time I’d put the fire out, it looked like a chunk of charcoal. “You did all that for me?”
“You’ve been so good to me lately, I just wanted to repay you somehow.” When I hear her voice crack, I feel even shittier.
I’m touched that she would do something so sweet, even if it turned out to be a disaster. I place my hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. What I want to do is wrap her in my arms, but keeping my distance is the best thing for both of us.
“That was nice of you, Princess. I appreciate the sentiment behind it, but maybe you should’ve asked Jaz for some lessons before trying to conquer it on your own.”
“Maybe. I’ve been kicking Peasantsville’s arse since moving here … I kind of felt invincible, like I could do anything. I guess I still have a way to go.”
Peasantsville?
I roll my lips to hide my smile. I’m not even going to try and make sense of that statement. She says some really random shit at times, but for me, it just adds to her adorableness.
When we enter the apartment, it still smells like smoke, despite having opened all of the windows before we left.
It’s late, but we both head straight for the kitchen. We visited a drive-through on the way home because neither of us had eaten.
