LITMIR.BIZ

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cool. He was wearing a loose t-shirt now, with boxers. His forearms and his shins were dusted with dark hair. I could see it even in the blue-black light in the room.

      The clock on the TV flashed eleven-thirty. I didn’t feel as though I’d get back to sleep, and my hand was hurting like hell now; it was throbbing with the beat of my heart.

      “Is she your girlfriend?”

      “Lindy? Yeah.”

      “She’s back in Oregon?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Bet she feels small town, now you’ve gone all big city.”

      “Ha. Ha.” His pitch was dismissive. Life clearly wasn’t all roses between them.

      “I suppose you’ve been with her forever. What was she, the head of the cheerleaders while you captained the football team?”

      “You think you know me so well, don’t you…”

      He had been captain of the football team.

      I bet they were best looking girl and best looking boy in their year, and they’d gotten together because it was what everyone expected.

      “I was the kid who sat in the corner and never had friends…” I didn’t know why I told him that, I just thought it might make him feel better.

      “And now?”

      My lips compressed.

      Turning away, I opened a cupboard and found a glass. “Do you want a drink?”

      “No thanks.”

      I filled the glass and drank, as again the images of the mirror breaking disturbed my thoughts.

      I pushed the memory away. I was starting over and forgetting that.

      I moved about the counter, and leaned back against it, facing him. “So what’s wrong between you?”

      “Tonight? You. She thinks you’re going to either jump me in my sleep, or steal all my stuff, like I have anything worth stealing.” His hand lifted and swept forward indicating the virtually empty room.

      “She might be right, though?” I did feel like jumping him in his sleep. It would be a great way to escape the blackness which kept threatening to swamp me.

      His gaze focused up at me as he scanned my face. “She could be right, yes…”

      Well, he didn’t know me, and I’d said nothing about myself, bar my name and my age. “She isn’t. You’re safe.”

      “Phew, thank fuck for that.”

      I laughed. He was a nice guy. There weren’t many of those in the world. I wasn’t used to them.

      My eyes shifted to the white pillow on the hard floor behind him. Then I looked at him again.

      “So anyway, seeing as I’ve promised not to jump you in your sleep, why don’t you share the mattress? If you’re safe, it seems silly you trying to sleep out here.” I’d be good. He deserved for me to be good. He’d been kind to me.

      He looked at me for a long moment. I didn’t move, holding out against his assessment.

      I wasn’t blind. I knew he liked what he saw. I was wearing his t-shirt, my legs were bare, and I’d nothing on underneath. It would be so easy to be bad. His gaze ran up my legs and my body then came to my face. But he wasn’t that sort of guy.

      All men looked. It didn’t mean all men let themselves touch.

      “Yeah, okay, I won’t get any sleep here anyway.”

      He picked up his pillow and stood, then lifted the pillow indicating for me to walk ahead.

      I went into the bathroom, while he lay down on the mattress, under the covers.

      When I came back in, he was watching me, one arm behind his head.

      I said nothing, walked to the other side and got in.

      He probably wouldn’t mind if I jumped him, but he’d have a hell of a conscience the next day when he spoke to his Lindy.

      I turned my back to him and felt him roll onto his stomach. My body was intensely aware of his, and all I could hear was his breathing as he drifted into sleep, while all I could smell was his shampoo, because he’d showered after I’d bathed.

      This had been a weird day, I’d finally left Declan and within hours I’d acquired a stranger. My brain wasn’t on the same page as where my life had gotten to. I’d walked out on the life of rich egotistical playboys, and into an opposite extreme.

      An ex had once called me a parasite––maybe I was. But maybe I didn’t want to be anymore.

       Chapter Two

      When I woke, Jason Macinlay was standing by the door of the bedroom, fully clothed, and looking down at me. He had on pants and a shirt and tie.

      I had to think what day it was. Wednesday. It must be Wednesday.

      Was he going to work? Did he want me to leave?

      “I’m going now. Sorry to wake you, but I didn’t like to just leave…”

      My eyes opened wider, and I met that brown gaze. It was even more distracting in daylight.

      “Will you be okay if I go to work?”

      “Yeah.” No. I didn’t know. I’d just woken up. I didn’t know how I felt. It always took a few minutes to gauge my mood.

      He hesitated. He was a sexy guy with a tender heart. Where the hell had he come from? Oregon, I remembered.

      “Are you sure? I could––” His voice was deep, and rugged with uncertainty.

      “Stay home? Are you afraid I’ll steal your TV or your Xbox, after all?”

      His hands slid into his pants' pockets as he smiled.

      He’d looked good last night in sweatpants and a tight top, elemental. In his work gear, he looked sophisticated––but like he needed some girl to ruffle his hair and pull his tie loose.

      I was tempted to be that girl and urge him back into bed with me. I’d feel better, but I didn’t doubt he’d be drowning in guilt after, if I got him to do it. He was too nice.

      “You can go. I’ll be okay, and I won’t take your Xbox.”

      “Right.” He laughed but still looked hesitant.

      “Just fuck off, and go, if you’re going, I wanna go back to sleep…” My voice was dry, but I’d given him a half-hearted smile as I said it.

      He smiled, too, though it showed no more enthusiasm than mine, and said, “Okay.” Then he turned, and went.

      A few moments later, the front door shut.

      Dammit. I couldn’t go out. There was blood all over my clothes. And I hadn’t any underwear. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten to wear a bra and knickers. But then last night was now only a clutter of confused images in my mind. I couldn’t even remember getting dressed and getting out of Declan’s anymore, only him having sex with me, and me pushing him off, and then the breaking mirror, and the feel of it in my hand.

      I rolled over onto the side of the mattress Jason Macinlay slept in and smelt his shampoo, and him. It was still a little warm with his body heat. It was comforting. I didn’t want to think about Declan, or about any moment of my life before now––before this good guy had come to my rescue on Manhattan Bridge.

      I’d never been with a nice guy in my life. I’d always preferred the risks a bad guy brought. Or maybe I was just so down on myself, I needed the bad guys to mess me up. Declan had messed

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