Fries Before Guys

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  “Kind of?” I asked teasingly. “Enough to yell at your dad in front of his police station?”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is, to be honest. And yes, I was pissed. But it was a compound type thing. I’m fucking furious with Rachel. Furious even more that she thinks she did nothing wrong.”

  My brows rose. “The cop chick who stopped by said that she wasn’t treating this like it was a big deal.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “That’s Ashe. She’s my cousin.” He paused. “And Ashe is right. Rachel thinks that this’ll all go away, and it won’t. She’s going to be charged with attempted murder, and even if she gets off on the charges in a court of law, she’s still going to have a record. And that record’s gonna keep her from getting jobs. Plus, she’s eighteen, so it’s not even something that she can get away with as a minor.”

  I smiled then, happy for that thought.

  “She’s made my life a living hell,” I told him. “It all started in ninth grade when I showed her up during a math lecture of all things.” I shook my head. “I think the final tipping point was me saving her boyfriend from death—at least, my decision to donate my mother’s organs, which then in turn saved her boyfriend, anyway. And since she’s so popular, she can get the other kids to join in because they’d rather be popular than do the right thing.”

  He handed me the bag of food with more fries and said, “Eat some more. You missed lunch.”

  I pulled out some French fries and started snacking on them, stopping when I realized I didn’t have a drink.

  “Can you go ask for more water?” I asked softly.

  Derek didn’t miss a beat as he stood and walked to the door. “Just water? No juice? Coke? Sprite?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Unless you can magically produce sweet tea, then no. I’d rather drink water.”

  He frowned. “I was going to get tea from the store, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I just skipped it.”

  I pulled out another fry and shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  He looked at me curiously, then grinned. “I have no doubt you’ll be okay. I’m going to make sure of it.

  When I finally finished off the rest of my burger and fries, I found myself opening up to what I’d learned today.

  “I can’t drive,” I found myself saying. “I can’t pick up anything over ten pounds. My camera bag weighs more than that. Oh, and I can’t do anything more than walk.”

  Derek just sat there and listened to me speak, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “I can take you to school every day on the way to work. And if I can’t pick you up, someone can,” he told me. “You have a whole plethora of police officers willing to do battle for you. Asking them to pick you up wouldn’t be a hardship.”

  Well, that wasn’t the way I was beginning to feel.

  I felt like I was burdening people.

  I already had to have help moving.

  “I can’t help with moving,” I moaned.

  He snorted. “You can help pack boxes. Or you can sit there and watch me pack your boxes. But you weren’t going to be helping move them anyway. I already have the entire SWAT team helping this Saturday.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Instead, I stayed silent and wondered what was in it for Derek.

  Why was he doing this?

  “What?” he asked when I stared at him too long.

  I decided to say fuck it. What was the worst that could happen? I’d already nearly broken my neck today. What would it hurt to ask him what was in it for him?

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Helping me? I know you feel sorry for me and all, but I’m a grown adult now. I can do these things on my own.”

  Well, I would find a way. I couldn’t say that I could do it totally on my own.

  He snorted and leaned back onto my hospital bed, reaching for the remote.

  “I have no doubt in my mind that you’re more than capable of that. Where my doubts start is when you think you can do something, and you can’t, and you won’t ask for help.”

  Now that did sound like something I might do.

  “And…” He looked me dead in the eye and rocked my entire world. “I wasn’t kidding earlier. I’m done trying to fight this pull.” He gestured between him and me with a jerk of his hand. “You’re…mine.”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “That day that I turned you down at the calendar shoot? It was because I found you insanely attractive, and all I could think about was how bad my ass would be kicked if I touched you. You’re nineteen, Avery. Still in high school for Christ’s sake. What the fuck am I going to tell people when I make you mine?” He paused, and I stared at him in silence. I had no idea what ‘make you mine’ meant, but it was sounding really good. “Each day since I saw you at that shoot, I’ve thought of nothing but what it would feel like to have you in my arms. I’m fighting—was fighting—a losing battle.”

  I swallowed hard at his words.

  “I think this is just your guilt…” I started to say.

  But he was already shaking his head in denial.

  “This has nothing to do with guilt.” He told me. “And everything to do with the fact that I want you. As a man wants a woman.”

  I scoffed, and he looked me squarely in the eyes, then stood up.

  I licked my lips and looked down, my eyes going wide when I saw the bulge of his erection behind the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

  “Do you want a closer look at how much guilt I feel right now?” he challenged.

  I was about to say ‘hell yes’ when there was a soft throat clearing at the door.

  “As much as I’d like to allow this to keep going,” Sierra laughed. “I can’t allow it. Mostly because there’s a couple here wanting to see you.”

  I peeled my eyes away from Derek’s cock that still was just as hard as it was before Sierra had announced herself, and then turned my entire body to look at Sierra.

  “Who?” I asked.

  She grinned. “A set of lawyers that heard what happened today from Rowen and came running up here to make sure that you’ve gotten a stern talking to. Oh, and they want to represent you. Actually, they want Rowen to represent you since you’re so close to her now.”

  “I’m so close?” I asked, confused.

  She looked up at Derek.

  “Yeah, since you’re so close.”

  With that, Sierra stepped aside and Jenny and Clancy Tolbert, the attorneys that’d gotten me the restraining order against Rachel, walked in.

  They smiled.

  Then rocked my world with what they had to say.

  Chapter 9

  Love, blah, blah, blah, tequila.

  -Derek to Avery

  Derek

  “I’m going to push her down,” a nurse said. “You can get your vehicle and meet me around the front of the building under the awning.”

  Derek looked at me, made sure that I was all right with a sweep of his eyes, and then nodded once.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll meet you down there.”

  With one last stern look at the nurse who would be pushing me, he picked up the bag that had a few of my things in it, then swiftly left out the door.

  I watched his butt as he left, my eyes glued to it, and wondered if there’d ever come a time when my eyes wouldn’t automatically go to it.

  “Ready?”

  The abrupt snap of words had me blinking in surprise.

  And, of course, I tried to nod but couldn’t.

  “Get in the chair,” she ordered, pointing at it.

  Like the first couple of times that I’d met this particular nurse, I couldn’t help but feel as if she was in a perpetual bad mood. Though, I’d been told that she had a trying patient who was working on her nerves. And her bad attitude just happened to extend toward me.

  “Yes,” I answered, walking to the chair that she was still holding on
to.

  She abruptly started forward despite my feet not being adequately on the supports for them, but I chose not to say anything.

  Derek had noticed the nurse’s attitude and had already been more than curious as to why.

  I’d just wanted to leave, so I hadn’t bothered to try to ask what the hell her problem was.

  In fact, I stayed so silent the entire way down there that I felt like that had pissed her off even more.

  By the time she was coming to a halt outside, I wondered if I should thank her for helping me while I was there.

  But the farther she got from the floor, the better mood she seemed to be in.

  “I’m sorry for being an ass,” she said stiffly. “I just… I’m working with the man that I’m currently going through a divorce with. He drives me insane.”

  I scrunched up my nose and looked at her. “Tell him to go fuck himself. That always makes me feel better.”

  She grinned.

  Luckily, Derek was there waiting, even though we’d all but followed almost directly behind him.

  His eyes took me in, then the woman behind me, and frowned.

  I got up before the nurse could push me closer and walked to the passenger side of his truck.

  He caught my hand and helped me up, placing one hand on my forearm and the other one on my ass.

  On my ass.

  “Derek,” I murmured. “This would be a lot easier if your hand wasn’t on my ass.”

  He chuckled darkly as he said, “I just want to help you find the seat.”

  Well, he had, because my knees had gone weak and my ass had met it a little harder than I’d expected.

  His eyes took everything in as he watched me scoot into the truck, making sure I was securely in the seat before he reached and stretched the seatbelt across my lap and shoulder.

  “Done,” he said. “Everything okay?”

  I nodded, or again, tried to.

  “This is getting old,” I muttered, touching the stupid metal contraption around my neck.

  “It’ll get better,” he said.

  I highly doubted it.

  What I decided was that by ‘getting better’ I would ‘get more used to it’ not ‘better.’

  But whatever.

  Derek drove slowly on the way home, being extremely careful to take the bumps a lot softer than he would’ve normally.

  “We’re gonna go to your place and gather some of your things,” he said as he shifted in his seat. “Are you hungry?”

  “No,” I answered. “I’m still full from breakfast.”

  He chuckled as he remembered.

  Derek had brought in a pan of home-cooked cinnamon rolls his mother had made.

  They’d still been warm. And gooey. And yummy.

  Yum.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But eventually you’re going to get hungry again. And I don’t have any food whatsoever at my house.”

  “We’ll have to take our chances,” I moaned as I moved in my seat to find a more comfortable position. “Because I’m so full I can’t even contemplate food without wanting to throw up.”

  He chuckled as he turned onto the road that would lead to my place.

  My breath caught the moment that I saw it.

  “Nice,” I breathed.

  “Kids have been doing this for the last three nights,” he murmured. “I was going to tell you but…”

  “But why worry me when I just nearly had my neck broken,” I finished for him.

  He sighed. “Exactly.”

  My yard was a fucking mess.

  The trees were half covered with toilet paper, and there were three men currently trying to clean it up.

  “Who are they?” I asked softly, unable to identify them from so far away.

  “The one in the tree is Adam. The one underneath the tree picking out the forks is Hayes. Booth is the one chasing the toddler around,” Derek answered.

  I grinned as I saw the little boy that looked exactly like his dad.

  When I’d taken his photo for the calendar, he’d talked about his son. But I hadn’t realized just how cute he’d be.

  “Wow,” I said. “That kid’s cute as hell.”

  Derek pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park.

  I opened the door to get out, but before I could get it open, Hayes caught the door and offered me his hand.

  I looked up at him in surprise.

  “Umm, thank you,” I said, my hand going to his forearm.

  He held it steady for me as I slowly slid out of the truck, my feet hitting the concrete and standing strong.

  “Welcome,” he answered, backing away.

  Derek was at his side then, offering Hayes his hand.

  “Y’all didn’t have to do this,” I found myself saying.

  Derek snorted and then let Hayes’ hand go.

  “They’re getting paid,” Derek countered.

  My eyes widened in surprise. “But I don’t have any…”

  “Money.” Derek nodded. “They’re getting paid by the kid who was caught doing it. That cheerleader chick that harassed you as we were leaving your school the other day.”

  I curled my lip up in disgust. “Ashley.”

  Derek shrugged.

  “Anyway, Ashley was caught red-handed by Malachi last night when he was on patrol. Ashley’s parents were called, and in order not to have any charges filed against her, her father offered two grand to clean it up,” Derek said.

  I shook my head. “I think I would’ve rather had charges filed against her.”

  Derek and Hayes burst out laughing.

  The next hour was spent telling Derek what I did and didn’t want packed to take to his place.

  A place that I’d tried repeatedly not to stay at but got overruled time and time again.

  First by Derek, then by Derek’s father, Luke.

  And finally, by his sister, Rowen, who’d come to see me a lot in the hospital since my accident.

  After my packing was done, I’d then pointed out things that I didn’t want, putting yellow Post-It notes on the things that I really did.

  Those things would be moved to storage, because there was only so much room in a duplex, and a house worth of stuff wouldn’t fit.

  We left Derek’s friends to finish up the cleaning of the house, and tomorrow they would start packing it up for me.

  Something that I knew they weren’t being paid to do, and also something that I felt extremely bad for making them do.

  In fact, I felt so bad about it that by the time we got to Derek’s place, I almost wanted to call the entire thing off.

  “Listen,” Derek said as he rounded the truck and opened my door. “I know that you think this is too much, but it isn’t. You’re one of ours. Nobody is pissed that they’re spending a day to help you pack and move. Nobody. In fact, this was all volunteer, anyway. We have a bunch of people coming over to help you move. There’s going to be so much help that I don’t even see it taking but a couple of hours at most.”

  I felt sick to my stomach but reluctantly agreed.

  Derek helped me out of the car, and together we walked into his house.

  The first thing I saw was the mountain of groceries on his counter.

  “I thought you said that you didn’t have any food at your house,” I found myself saying.

  He looked at all the groceries that were on the counter, then shook his head.

  “I have a feeling my mother took it upon herself to help out,” he muttered.

  I grinned at that, knowing that my mother would’ve done the same.

  He led me to the chair that was in the living room, the big, roomy, leather recliner that looked as if it was in the perfect spot to be directly lined up with the TV, despite that it took up quite a bit of the couch’s viewing space.

  Once he had me seated, he kicked up the foot of the recliner, then nabbed a blanket off the couch.

 
“Let me get all these groceries put…”

  His phone started to make an alarming sound, and he cursed.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and groaned.

  “SWAT call.” He paused, looking horrified. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I gave him a thumb up. “I’ll be fine.”

  And I was fine.

  The only problem was, he was gone for hours and I got hungry. So I ate a sandwich.

  The other problem was, those hours went all the way until it was time for bed, and I didn’t know what to do.

  I couldn’t get my stupid clothes off by myself, and I really, really wanted a shower.

  I also wanted to change my clothes.

  Honestly, I did the best thing I could with the clothes I had at my disposal.

  In the end, I wound up raiding Derek’s closet, ripping all of the padding out of the vest that I could reach, leaving only plastic parts and metal pieces, and taking a shower.

  I was sure to be careful, and I also had a pretty decent time washing my hair.

  Washing my vagina was incredibly awkward and shaving my legs was definitely out of the picture.

  That was where I was at—not shaving my legs—when I got a text message.

  Ignoring it, I finished up my shower, dried off with an impressively fluffy towel for a man, and getting dressed as best as I could.

  Which consisted of me putting on a bra—a real one at that. Not even a sports bra that I usually wore. Derek’s SWAT zip-up hoodie, and a pair of his sweatpants.

  I was exhausted by the time that I was done, meaning that drying my hair was so not happening.

  Finally, once I was in Derek’s recliner once again, I read my message from Derek.

  D: gonna be a long night. Some guy’s chosen to hold up an FBI office. Only way in or out of the place is through the front room, and the guy’s got enough ammo to hold a six-month-long siege.

  I didn’t bother to reply.

  Replying took energy. Energy required food.

  And I was just too exhausted to find anything other than the measly sandwich that did nothing to appease my hunger.