Page 15 of A Whirlwind of Color (The Light to My Darkness 2)

The man with the microphone gave me an odd look.

“Get me out of here. I want to go home. Please take me home.” I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t go away.

“Back up!” Ian yelled, but more people were swarming us. Flashes. Voices. He knocked the mic out of my face.

I closed my eyes. I felt like I was going to faint. “Please.”

And then I was being lifted up and over James’ shoulder. My eyes flew open and I was staring down at his ass. His very perfect looking ass. But its perfection didn’t distract me from wondering what he was doing. I hadn’t been asked to be lifted like a child. I was about to protest, but he pushed through the front doors of the building and the blast of air-conditioning and silence of the lobby made my breath come back. I felt myself sink into him.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “You’re safe.”

I had asked to go home. But in my dream, this was my home. Try to embrace it.

James’ breathing sounded labored.

“You can put me down,” I said. I thought about my strange beer belly. It was probably hard to lift me. “I know I’m a little heavy.”

He laughed, but slowly set me down on my feet. “You’re not heavy, Penny.” But his face looked ghostly pale. And his breathing still didn’t sound normal.

I stayed pressed against him, staring up into his eyes. “You were hurt too.”

“Penny, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Whatever hurt me also got you too, didn’t it?”

He touched the side of my cheek ever so slightly.

I tried not to wince or step back. I continued to stare at him. What was he hiding from me?

“Truly, I’m fine.” He ran the pad of his thumb along my cheek. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

Whatever had happened to him, he didn’t want to talk about it with me. I wondered if he usually would. Maybe he didn’t recognize me as much as I didn’t recognize him. I stepped back, not able to keep staring into his eyes so intently. “So that’s what being badgered by paparazzi feels like? No wonder so many celebrities punch them in the face and wind up in rehab.”

James laughed.

I smiled at him. I liked when he laughed. “Heck, I’d probably start drinking too if they followed me around all the time. I’d be one of those crazy people in rehab.” I laughed at my own joke. “How do we usually deal with them?”

He lowered both his eyebrows and the smile on his face vanished.

What had I done wrong now? James’ smiles seemed so rare. I wanted them to be permanently affixed to his face. He was too serious. Way too serious for me.

“I’m sorry if I did something to offend you,” I said. “I’m new to all this. I mean…” I awkwardly cleared my throat. Just keep pretending. “Let’s just go home, okay?” I instinctively walked back toward the exit.

“Our place is upstairs,” James said.

I turned around. Of course. “Right. We’re on floor…”

“Let me just show you,” he said and lightly touched my lower back to guide me toward the elevators.

It seemed like he wanted some kind of expression from me as we walked through the luxurious lobby of the apartment building. But it all made sense to me. In my fantasy, this is what I had. And I was having an easy time pretending it was real now. How wonderful would it be if it was reality? I mean, it was enough to make anyone swoon. But I knew it wasn’t real.

We were rich in my make-believe world. Even the elevators were decadent. The music that was playing through the speakers was straight from a 1950’s movie. It was all elaborately overdone. I had an overactive imagination.

And to think in my dream world I’d had a scandalous affair with my super hot professor. Who just so happened to be rich? Yeah, right. Never could have happened. First of all, I never would have dated my professor. Second of all, professors weren’t rich. Tenure didn’t make you wealthy and he was too young for it anyway. I laughed out loud.

“Something amusing?” James asked as the elevators dinged open on our floor.

“Nope. This all seems...normal enough for a fantasy. But seriously, James, how did we meet? We both know you couldn’t afford any of this as a professor.”

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