by Mia Ford
He considers this for a long moment. Then he gets unsteadily to his feet and nods.
“Okay,” he said.
Good, he’s not going to argue anymore. I shuffle him inside, still not entirely sure that I’m doing the right thing, and lead him to the couch. He doesn’t protest as he sits heavily and fixes his gaze on my front door, so I go to the kitchen and flick the switch on the kettle, yawning widely.
“Coffee?” I offer.
“Please,” Kyle says with a nod.
When the kettle boils, I set about making two cups of coffee, keeping an eye on Kyle. He doesn’t move at all, though, slumped against the couch while he stares at the door.
He’s really serious, isn’t he? He’s actually worried about Jesse appearing, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t get into my apartment.
I carefully carry the cups over the low table and put them down. Only then does Kyle move, leaning forward to pick one up.
“Thank you,” he says.
He’s obviously drunk. I’m not used to someone being so polite under the influence of alcohol, however. Though maybe Kyle’s thing isn’t to get angry, but to fixate on something with a single-minded determination.
Which is probably why he hasn’t even glanced at me in my nightgown and robe.
Not that I want him looking at me.
I clear my throat and hurry away to grab a towel out of the cupboard. When I return, Kyle is shrugging out of his leather jacket and dropping it to the ground. It had been open, so the white shirt underneath is also soaked through, and my mouth goes dry as I stare at the way it clings to his muscles.
He doesn’t notice so I cough and throw the towel at him.
No! I scold myself.
I make myself comfortable in my armchair and watch Kyle as he runs his hair dry before wrapping the towel around his shoulders.
“So?” I ask when he picks up his coffee again. “What’s all this about, then?”
“Jesse,” Kyle says promptly.
Apparently, he also doesn’t like to explain himself properly when he’s drunk. This is going to be like pulling teeth, I can just tell.
“Yes, you said that,” I say with all the patience I can muster. I think it’s impressive that I have any patience at all, considering what time of night it is. “But why are you so worried about Jesse?”
“He’ll come here,” Kyle explains.
No, that doesn’t explain anything at all.
“Jesse doesn’t know where I live,” I tell him.
I hope.
“No, he does,” Kyle argues. “He said so.”
Wait… I sit back, frowning. As far as I remember, Kyle and Jesse barely spoke at all last night? In fact, the only words either of them said to each other was to swear before Kyle hit him and ran off with me. Unless I blacked out, which I’m reasonably sure I didn’t, Jesse didn’t say once that he knows where I live.
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“From the bar,” Kyle says. He yawns, suddenly looking tired. “He said it at the bar.” He catches sight of my raised eyebrow. “Tonight.”
Ah, that might explain a little more. Somehow, by some stupid coincidence, Jesse and Kyle ended up at the same bar tonight.
I can see what happened now. Jesse would have run his mouth, which is exactly what I knew what happen, and Kyle had gotten spooked. Then, for whatever reason, he had run here after deciding that he needed to protect me in case Jesse came here.
“Did Jesse follow you?” I ask.
“No,” Kyle says, shaking his head. “He ran first.”
“Then Jesse was never going to come here,” I assure him. “Whatever he said, he was just being an idiot, like he normally is.”
Kyle frowns. He doesn’t seem to believe me.
“He knows where you live,” he reminds me.
“Which is unsettling, but not a cause for concern,” I say. “Look, I appreciate that you were worried, but you didn’t need to come running here. I’m fine.”
I sigh as Kyle stares at me, uncomprehending. He really was just focusing on one thing to the exclusion of everything else.
“He was saying he was going to come here,” Kyle says slowly. For a second, he almost sounds sober, and his eyes are tired when they meet mine. “He said you’ll get what’s coming to you.”
“He’s an idiot,” I stress. “He won’t do anything.”
“It was the look in his eyes,” Kyle continues, as though he hadn’t heard me. “His eyes… Yesterday, there was something nasty in him.” He looks at me solemnly. “I think he’s more dangerous than you think he is.”
A chill runs down my spine as I stare at him. Part of me wonders if I should be indignant. After all, I’ve known Jesse for a long time. If anyone knows the way he thinks, it’s definitely me. What right did Kyle have to come to my apartment in the middle of the night and tell me that I’m wrong? No, he’s just being a fool because he got scared by some crap Jesse was saying.
The rest of me, however, can’t help but notice that Kyle is repeating my own thoughts. Because that look in Jesse’s eyes…
And Kyle had noticed it too? It hadn’t just been me? I remember thinking, last night, that Kyle was going to say something else to Jesse last night, perhaps to try and chase him off. Then something odd had crossed his expression as he stared at Jesse, his eyes narrowing and then widening slightly as though he had seen something.
Then he had punched Jesse, grabbed me, and ran. I never asked him why he chose to do that.
“Why didn’t you just run Jesse off last night?” I ask before I can stop myself. Kyle blinks at me. “Why did you run off with me instead?”
Kyle blinks slowly as his mind is forced to change tracks.
“He was…too far gone,” he said after a moment. “He wouldn’t listen. I’ve seen the type. He just wanted to fight. He would have struck out at anyone that was nearby.”
Jesse does that when he gets drunk. He throws punches at anyone, even if they haven’t done anything at all. I remember once refusing to bail him out of jail for a few days because he turned to another guy at the bar and began hitting him without provocation. Admittedly, after that, he did try and clean up for about a week before he went back to drinking.
I scowl at the memory.
“I know what Jesse’s like,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “I told you; he’s angry and he can be violent, but he’s never laid a hand on me before.”
“Until last night,” Kyle reminds me.
I feel a little offended that Kyle has decided to apply logic now. He’s looking up at me with serious eyes, which seem to bore straight through me. I scowl at him and sip at my coffee to avoid answering for a moment as I think about what to say. But it’s the middle of the night and I’m tired and I have the stranger that I took home last night on a whim sitting on my couch, telling me that my ex is a thug who is plotting revenge on me.
It’s all a little too much to take in at two-thirty in the goddamned morning.
So, I decide that I’ll deal with it in the morning.
“Okay, first, I do understand where you’re coming from,” I admit. “But, if Jesse had managed to hit me last night, he would run away as soon as he did it, scared of himself and what I could do to him in retaliation. He’s a coward like that, no matter what he says.” I sigh. “I really do appreciate you trying to protect me like this, okay? But I don’t need protection.” I give him a severe look. “Especially not from a complete stranger.”
Kyle droops, his entire body slumping. It makes me feel a little bad, because he ran all the way here in the rain, terrified that something had happened to me. It’s nice but I didn’t need it. I sigh again and stand, draining the last few gulps of my coffee.
“Look, it’s late and you’re wet,” I say. “Why don’t you stay the night? That’ll prove to you that everything is okay, and you don’t have to walk home in the rain. I’ll grab some blankets and a pillow and you can sleep on the couch.”
Admitted
ly, the couch looks far too small for Kyle. But there’s nowhere else for him to sleep; I’m not offering my bed up.
Kyle, however, lifts his head and nods with a tired smile. He yawns widely, his night finally catching up to him.
“Thanks, Allison,” he says, fishing his phone and wallet out of his pocket so he can lay them both on the coffee table. “I appreciate it. And sorry for causing so much trouble.”
“It’s fine,” I say, rolling my eyes.
I collect some blankets for him and grab a pillow off my bed. When I return to the living room, he’s shrugging his wet shirt over his head, revealing his naked torso. My face flares red and I dump the bedding on the couch.
“Goodnight!” I say, and flee the room before he can reply.
I snap my bedroom door behind me and shake my head. I really have gotten myself into a weird mess now.
Chapter Nine
Allison
When I open my eyes the next morning, I’m half-tempted just to close them again. I’m so deeply tired that my limbs are still heavy and my mind is working sluggishly. It takes me far too long to remember why; I’m tired because my sleep was unceremoniously interrupted by Kyle, who seemed to believe that I was in some sort of danger from Jesse.
I rub the bridge of my nose as I sit up in bed, yawning widely. I glance at the clock. It’s already ten o’clock, which is far later than I’ll normally sleep. Thankfully, I only have afternoon classes today, so I’m not missing anything.
Should I just go back to sleep? I consider this and then, with a huff, I realize that it’s out of the question; if I go back to sleep now, I definitely won’t wake up in time for class. So I force my tired body to move, sliding out of bed and locating some clothes.
It’s only when I step out of my room, heading for the bathroom, that I remember that I have a visitor here. I hear a snore from the couch, and I freeze for a few seconds before I see Kyle twisting his huge form on the tiny couch, somehow managing not to fall off. I can’t help but giggle at the sight; he looks absolutely ridiculous, curled up like that under a few flimsy blankets. Yet his face is peaceful and he’s drooling slightly in his sleep, completely relaxed.
Curious, I creep forwards, staring at him. While he’s awake, his expression is tense and set in a permanent frown, too focused on the world around him to think about smiling. In his sleep, however, the lines on his face have been smoothed out, and I think he might be younger than I had originally guessed. His lips are curved up slightly in contentment and his shaggy head is ducked at such an awkward angle that I feel bad for the pain he’s going to be in when he wakes up. He looks, dare I say it, oddly cute, which is a strange word to use for such a large, rough-looking man.
I shake my head and look away, pushing the rest of my fascination away. I still need to have a shower. Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll be gone by the time I get out.
I step into the bathroom and twist the taps, waiting patiently as the water warms up. Once it’s the right temperature, I slip out of my clothes and step under the spray.
The water wakes me up like nothing else normally does, and I stand there for several moments, allowing the water to soak me completely, allowing it to calm the tension I still feel in my body. Why am I anxious, though? Is it because Kyle is still in my apartment? Or is there a part of me that’s still thinking over the dire warnings that he brought me last night?
There’s nothing to worry about, I remind myself.
Jesse is not someone to be feared. I know there’s still a lot that I don’t know about his life before we dated, but I don’t really care about that. All I care about is the evidence that tells me that everything is going to be fine; Jesse won’t hurt me.
Subconsciously, though, my hand lifts and rests on my shoulder. There’s a faint bruise there, in the shape of a hand, and there’s a similar bruise on the other side. It’s already fading, but I bite my lower lip.
Am I stupid for defending Jesse so much when he’s already hurt me? Does it really matter if that was the first time? The fact that he’s hurt me at all should be enough to tell me that something has definitely changed, shouldn’t it?
Should I be taking Kyle’s warning a little more seriously?
No, I decide, feeling foolish the moment the thought crosses my mind. There is nothing to be scared about. Even if Jesse is feeling violent toward me, he’s too stupid to chase me down just to act on those urges.
I push all thoughts of Jesse out of my mind and finish my shower. When I step out of the bathroom, Kyle is still snoring lightly on my couch; he hasn’t moved since I went into the bathroom. Unwillingly, I smile slightly. I hope he doesn’t have work today because if he does, he’s going to be awfully late.
I feel more awake now, but I still yawn as I flick the switch on the kettle. Kyle stirs slightly at the sound and rolls over so he’s facing the back of the couch, tangling his legs in the blanket and mumbling something too quiet to hear in his sleep. He’s too deeply asleep for such a small sound to pull him awake, which is what I had hoped would happen.
Sighing, I walk over to him and snort. He’s clutching the blanket to his chest, as though he were afraid someone would take it away from him. Before I can stop myself, I take a picture and send it to Jacqui.
“My ‘knight in shining armor’ showed up, drunk, last night because he heard Jesse mouthing off.”
I don’t have to wait long for a reply.
“Are you serious?! Woah, girl, that’s one good looker you have there. Did you repay him for his concern? ;)”
I flush at the insinuation.
“NO!!!! I DID NOT!!! I told him he could sleep on the couch. Otherwise he was going to sleep outside my door!”
There’s no answer for a moment. My kettle boils but I don’t move, staring down at Kyle. That’s right, I had forgotten that he was so determined, last night, to protect me that he would have just sat outside my door last night like a bouncer, waiting for any threat that would come upon me.
There’s a strange, warm glow in my chest as I consider this. Kyle was so focused on protecting me that nothing else mattered.
I don’t need protection, I remind myself. He was just an idiot last night, that’s all.
My phone dings with a new message.
“You need to keep this one, Allison. I’m serious.”
I roll my eyes at the reply.
“He’s still a stranger. Anyway, right now, I’m more concerned with waking him up. He sleeps like the dead!”
I tuck my phone away in my pocket and look at Kyle, thinking. I can’t deny that it’s nice to know what lengths he went through last night to help me. His clothes, I can see, are still slightly damp, and I roll my eyes before I gather them up and take them to the laundry, leaving his leather jacket; I can’t put that in the dryer.
When I return, Kyle is lying, awkwardly sprawled, on his back. The blanket has slipped down his bare chest, and my eyes drift without permission, following the lines of his muscles and dipping down to…
Okay. Enough is enough.
“Kyle,” I say aloud. I should reach out and shake him, but I don’t dare touch him right now, not while my heart is hammering in my chest and my entire body feels far too warm. “Kyle, wake up!”
He grumbles something, but otherwise doesn’t stir. I sigh.
“Sorry about this,” I tell him.
I push him off the couch.
He hits the floor with a yelp, and I grin unrepentantly. Maybe I’m still a little sour at being woken so early this morning, if I’m honest. As good as Kyle’s intentions were, I definitely didn’t appreciate being dragged out of bed at two-thirty to listen to conspiracy theories.
Groggy, Kyle raises his head. I can see that he doesn’t quite recognize where he is, and I wait patiently, crossing my arms as he looks around. Then his eyes fall on me and then widen.
“Allison?” he asks with a gasp. “What are…?”
Recognition suddenly floods his face. He groans and runs a rough hand down his face.
“Shit,” he mutters.
“Coffee?” I offer.
“Please,” he sighs.
I make my way to the kitchen and boil the kettle again, listening to Kyle curse softly as he frees himself from the blankets that he has so thoroughly twisted himself into. By the time I’ve finished making the two drinks, he’s on his feet, blankets covering him since he doesn’t have his clothes, and shuffling toward me, wincing at the sunlight that’s streaming through the window.
“Want some aspirin?” I ask, seeing the lines of pain on his face.
He hesitates and then nods with a sigh and a grimace.
“I’m so sorry,” he says when I give him two tablets and a glass of water. “I don’t know what happened last night. One minute I was listening to that bastard, and then…”
He waves a hand helplessly in the air before gratefully downing the tablets.
“Then you came racing through the streets to protect me?” I ask dryly.
A hint of red creeps up Kyle’s cheeks, and he scratches his collar bone. He’s shuffling his feet, almost like a child that has been caught doing something wrong.
“Sorry,” he repeats.
“Well…it isn’t fine, but I do understand,” I say. “Your clothes are in the dryer if you want to wait just a little while; they were still a little damp.”
“Damp…?” Kyle murmurs. His expression cleared. “Right, it was raining.”
“Rain that you ran all the way through,” I pointed out. “What, exactly, were you thinking last night?”
Kyle grimaces. “That scumbag had just made all these threats. I scared him off, but he ran out of the bar, and I lost sight of him when I followed. He’d just admitted that he knew where you lived, so…” He shrugs helplessly. “I think part of me was terrified that he’d come straight here.”
“Kyle…” I sigh.
“I know,” Kyle says, putting his hand up. “I remember what you said last night. That there wasn’t any reason to do that. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking very clearly.” He yawns and I push a mug a coffee toward him. “I get a little single-minded when I have a lot to drink. I get one thing in my head, and I have to follow through on it.”
