Page 42 of 1 Last Shot

"It's late," I say quietly, reaching for her mug so I can place it in the sink. "You should go to bed." Walking around the counter, I gently lift her out of her seat, but then hesitate when I realize that I might be pushing my boundaries a little with taking her to bed—after all, she only now even let me into her home.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch," she slurs. "I don't have a TV in my bedroom, and I have a feeling I won't be able to sleep without a distraction."

Well, that solves my inner turmoil, at least.

I lead her back to the couch and reach for the blanket that's draped over the back of it so I can place it on her once she's lying down. Oscar hasn’t moved from his place on the couch since we arrived, but he shifts a little bit now and settles on top of Isabella’s feet. She hums contentedly at the warmth, a small smile playing on her lips.

I hesitate because I think I hate leaving her alone after today, but I also know I can't stay. We barely know each other.

Liar. You told her more today than you've ever told even those close to you.

I shake my head and turn away anyway. But I'm stopped when Isabella grabs my hand.

"Wait," she says, forcing her eyes to open. "Can you… watch something with me? Just for a little while," she tacks on hurriedly.

And I realize that it doesn't matter that I barely know her, there's less and less that Iwouldn'tdo for this girl.

"Just for a little," I agree softly.

She relaxes back into the couch, another pleased smile appearing on her lips. I grab the remote from the coffee table and settle into the single seat next to the couch.

"Do you want to watch anything in particular?" I ask as I click the TV on and pull up the menu.

When I don't get an answer, I turn and see Isabella fast asleep, that smile still etched onto her face.

Hours pass before I can bring myself to leave her alone. When I finally lock and triple-check her door, the sky is pink with the breaking dawn.

15

ISABELLA

When I wake up, I'm staring at a TV. I rarely fall asleep on the couch, so it takes a few seconds of dazedly looking around before I remember where I am.

I fell asleep on the couch last night.

Kane was here.

Kane stayed with me after I almost got mugged yesterday.

I turn my attention to the accent chair next to my couch. I remember him standing in front of it, but I was out before his butt even hit the seat, so I don't remember anything else. And yet, when I look at the chair, I see a deep Kane-imprint in the cushion.

A smile comes unbidden to my lips. I can't help it—even though yesterday was the second-scariest day of my life, Kane's presence in it was still the most comforting thing I could've asked for. Not only did he save me, but he stayed with me afterward, too.

I squeeze my eyes shut and think about the conversation we had in my kitchen.

He opened up to me. He told me about his life experiences, about his childhood.

He made me feel better.

He madejokes.

I laugh to myself about that last one. Who knew Kane had a sense of humor?

I'm so pleased with my discovery that it takes me a minute to pull myself together and focus my brain. I force my thoughts away from Kane, and instead start to think about my day: what I have to do, where I need to teach, the training I need to go through.

In some ways it's reminiscent of my pre-injury life, but in other ways… it's not.

I make it through two days on autopilot before something shakes me out of it. It's during a dance class with Hailey that I'm eventually reminded of what happened, and when I once again word-vomit my thoughts. She doesn't even blink, which makes me think she's either used to muggings in Philly, or that Kane said something at the gym.

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