Learned Reactions
Page 26
That bordered on ominous, and it seeped into my bones in a way that made me shiver despite the seventy-plus degree weather.
I walked to the banks and pressed the button, ignoring Mr. Johnson’s knowing stare on me. I needed to think on that. “Night, sir. Give my best to Miss Muriel.” My words sounded forced and we both knew it, but Johnson didn’t comment. That’s just who he was.
“Will do. You get yourself some rest. You need it.”
The doors opened before I could answer, and I waved before stepping on and pressing the button for ten. I just barely caught the muffled “hold that” from down the hall.
No lie, I was tempted to let it close and let whoever it was catch the next one, but I pressed the door open button and three people staggered on. And I fucking choked on air because one of them, a dark-haired man with brown eyes smudged with liner, was about the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.
He was also apparently the only sober one, and he gave me a tiny smile. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”
I nodded and posted up in the corner. The girl could barely stand up straight, probably part liquor and part the obscene heels she was wearing, and the other guy, a blond, was red-cheeked and giggling to himself. But the brunet could get it, even though the pseudo-spiky hair that had probably been perfect a few hours ago had wilted in this fuck-ass humidity. White boy problems. His shirt was sticking to him, and...did that bitch say PrEP-py on it? Like a neon sign he was trying to hit. I homed in again on the blue liner and sparkly lip-gloss he was gnawing off. I wanted to stop him, soothe that bruised lower lip with my tongue, and...the thought made my body stir in ways it hadn’t for months.
Fucking hell. I closed my eyes and willed my imagination and my dick to calm all the way down.
The floor dinged to a stop and I looked forward to find him staring at me, his eyes wide and searching and gorgeous. Eighth floor. I held my arm out while he and the blond, but mostly he, helped the woman off, but her foot caught in a thread on the carpet and she stumbled, taking the blond down with her. They laughed, the sound almost hyena-like with the wheezing and gasping, while the brunet stood there, his shoulders and head sagging. Fuck it, the way this night was going, they wouldn’t get any farther if I left them. I stepped out and let the elevator close behind me.
“You need some help?” I asked.
Dark-hair looked at me, his eyes wide, and shook his head. “Oh, no need. I’ve got them.”
See, now nine times out of ten I would’ve found that endearing, that he was cautious of me as a stranger and wanted to make sure his drunk friends were okay. And my Black ass knew better than to involve myself with drunk folks. I was going to pay for this later.
“I’m a paramedic. Let me help.” I bent over and scooped the girl into my arms, settling her head against my shoulder. She smelled like cheap liquor and expensive perfume, and didn’t that sum up DC in a nutshell? “Where am I going?”
He gnawed on that lip again.
“Stop that,” I said, and he jumped. Skittish little thing. I wanted him. “Where am I going?”
He paused, then knelt and looped his friend’s arm over his shoulder before helping him stand. “Follow me.”
We stopped at 830, and Dark-hair propped his friend against the wall. “Give me a sec.” He fumbled in the guy’s front pocket and pulled out a set of keys. So he didn’t live here then. Pity. He got the door open and pointed. “She’s down the hall to the right.”
I nodded and walked in that direction. They had one of those apartments with a long, narrow hallway that opened to the living room and kitchen on one side and the master bedroom on the other, with the second bedroom isolated in its own corner by the front door. It was a weird setup, like someone had fucked the building plans and had leftover space to fill.
Incandescent light from the streetlamps filtering in brightened the space enough for me to find her door, and I pushed it open with my hip. Damn. Her room was messy as hell, clothes all over the floor, the lingering scent of perfume in the air, almost like something had spilled, the bed unmade. My baby sister would love her.
I laid her on top of the covers, taking her glasses off just before she rolled to her stomach and punctuated the silence with a loud snore. A laugh broke free and I clamped a hand over my mouth, glad the sound didn’t wake her, then took just enough time to get those stilettos off and set them on top of a shoebox before closing the door behind me.
If I was smart, I would’ve taken my ass straight on upstairs, but Dark-hair was pretty and I wanted to see him again, especially if he didn’t live here. I hesitated, reconsidered, then walked to the second bedroom. There he was, taking off the blond’s pants. The blond mumbled something, too low for me to hear, and I figured I was interrupting. But Dark-hair frowned, shook his head, and kept working until he got the pants off, no easy feat since they were plastered to the guy’s small frame.
I leaned against the door and watched his ass move in those too-tight shorts. He wasn’t shaved like a lot of guys I messed with, and I liked it. I only needed one super-groomed guy in a relationship, and I had that title on lock.
“Did you need something?”
Fuck. I hadn’t realized he was watching me. I couldn’t even play it off, because I’d definitely been thinking of some specific things to do with him. To him. I cleared my throat and pointed behind me. “I left your friend in there with her clothes on, but get some water and aspirin or whatever in her system.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Thanks. Thanks for helping. Sorry I was...” His arms flailed and the words trailed off. He ran a hand through his short hair and it spiked out in all directions. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
“Same.” On impulse, I held out my hand. “Jeremiah.”
He paused, then crossed the room and shook it, a small smile brightening his face. First one I’d seen, and damn but I wanted more. “Nice to meet you, Jeremiah.” His voice was soft, a low whir that rolled through me.
When he didn’t say anything else, I pressed. “You gonna tell me your name, pretty?”
He flushed, his neck and face turning the same shade of pink as the mums on my balcony, and I wanted to strip him and see how far down it went. I stepped into him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.
The sharp inhale made me groan, but he stepped back a fraction. “Umm, I don’t... I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
I didn’t miss the way his eyes had traveled up and down my body as he’d walked over. I also didn’t miss the fine tremble in the hand I was still holding. Damn. I let him go, but sensation skirted up and down my palm from where we’d touched. He sucked in another breath and darted his eyes up to mine before looking away again, his Adam’s apple bobbing. That tremor had spread and for the life of me I couldn’t tell if my presence made it better or worse. So I was leaving.
I nodded at him and kept my strides soft, unbothered, as I walked to the door. I squashed the urge to look back, even though I felt his burning stare, but still felt some type of way when I heard the soft sigh before the locks clicked behind me.
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Copyright © 2020 by Jayce Ellis
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ISBN-13: 9781488075209
Learned Reactions
Copyright © 2021 by Jayce Ellis
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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