Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
A voice behind me said, “Oh man, I think we should take you to a hospital. I’ve never seen blue vomit before, and that can’t be good.”
I pressed my eyes shut for a moment as I silently begged the universe, please don’t let that be hot motorcycle guy.
But of course, when I opened my eyes and turned around, there he was, in all his long-haired, sexy as hell, leather jacket-wearing glory. Awesome.
I blurted, “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine. Just remind me never to drink blue cocktails again.”
“That might be a good idea.”
“Are you okay? I landed on you like a velociraptor taking down a cheeseburger.” What was I even saying right now? This guy definitely flustered me.
He grinned at that. “Interesting mental picture, and I’m fine. I really thought I could catch you. At least I broke your fall, though.”
“Thanks for trying.”
As I looked around and tried to get my bearings, he said, “The door we went through locks automatically. We’ll have to go around the block to get back in.”
“Oh, no. I’m done.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and started to walk down the alley, and Lucky fell into step with me. “That was a full evening—getting drunk on two cocktails, failing spectacularly as a fake go-go boy, falling on you, of all people, then puking my guts out behind a dumpster. There’s no way to top that, so it’s best to just call it a night.”
“That makes it sound like you know me, but I’d definitely remember meeting you.”
“What?”
“Me, of all people. That’s what you just said. It implies we know each other.”
“Oh. No, I’ve just seen you around.” And by that, I meant I stared at him from afar, lusted after him, fantasized about him—I wasn’t going to tell him any of that, obviously, and I quickly directed my attention to writing a text in an attempt to cover my embarrassment.
I sent my friends a message telling them I wasn’t coming back and asking them to hold onto my flannel shirt until the next time I saw them, and Skye responded with: Sure, no problem. Is Lucky with you?
I replied: Yeah, he followed me outside when I puked in the alley, and we got locked out.
Skye’s next text said: He’s a nice guy, so let him help you if you’re still feeling sick. And let me know if you need anything, okay? I sent one last text promising I would.
We’d left the alley by that point, and I looked for a street sign as I pulled up a ride share app. “Ugh, I feel horrible,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “And it’s only nine-forty! My first night out in ages, and I didn’t even last an hour.” On top of that, the app told me it would take ninety minutes for a driver to get to me. Ugh.
“Instead of going home, why don’t you come and have some tea with me? It might help settle your stomach.”
I turned to look at the tall, gorgeous man at my side, with his tidy beard, perfect hair, and strong profile. I’d actually love some tea and his company, but obviously he was just being polite. I tried to let him off the hook by saying, “Every coffee shop in this neighborhood is going to be packed, and I can’t deal with any more crowds tonight. Not with this headache that’s brewing.”
“I know a place that’s nice and quiet, but it’s about a ten minute walk. Are you up for it?”
I studied him closely while I tried to decide if this was just a pity thing, or if he legitimately wanted to spend time with me. Then he flashed me a flawless smile, which made my brain short out a little. I found myself mumbling, “Okay, sure. Why not?”
When I shivered, he stepped forward and took off his jacket, which he draped over my shoulders. Since he had about four inches and fifty pounds of pure muscle on me, it was way too big, but it was also warm and comfortable. I wasn’t used to people taking care of me, so I muttered an embarrassed thank you as I stuck my arms through the sleeves, then quickly headed down the sidewalk.
My embarrassment amplified when he told me, “It’s in the other direction,” and I spun around and power-walked past him. He caught up with me, and after a moment, he said, “I’m Lucky. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Logan.” I glanced at him and asked, “Is that an ironic nickname, like when they call a giant football player Tiny?”
“No. I went through a period in my life where I did a lot of stupid shit that really should have killed me. When I walked away from one catastrophe after another virtually unscathed, the nickname was born.”