A text lit up my phone.
Luc: What you doing?
Me: Beating children…
Luc: Are you stealing their candy too?
Me: Only when the nurses aren’t around
Me: Truthfully? I’m bored. Tell me something fun
Luc: You want me to break you out?
Me: Can’t, Physio at 7am. Need to be in bed early
Luc: I’ll be there in 30
Me: ??
Me: Luc?
Me: Hello?
All hope of a decent game of chess was lost as Zac gave into the allure of the pretty Sonya, and I continued to glance at my phone awaiting a reply.
A commotion at the door to the rec centre interrupted my pack up. Luc walked in, carrying a guitar and small amp. He winked at me, before heading to the stage area. Normally reserved for school choirs or the yearly Christmas play, today it was apparently playing host to Luc’s band.
King, Dom, and Mark, Luc’s band mates, followed, waving and calling greetings. Jetta strolled in, hand in hand with Paxton ten minutes later. She threw a smile my way, heading for the stage.
Paxton claimed the seat beside me. The residents watched, murmuring. I saw the resident gossip head for the doors. We’d be joined by the rest of the patients soon enough.
“What is even happening right now?” I asked, gesturing to the stage.
Pax smirked. “I’d say he’s trying to impress you.”
I opened my mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Luc.
“Yo, yo, yo.” His voice pitched and he nodded after a moment at the sound level. His head came up, his eyes twinkled and he looked right at me.
“We’re Behind Utopia, and I hope you don’t mind that we’ve hijacked your Sunday afternoon.”
The residents laughed.
“Take your shirt off!” This came from Shirley, who punctuated her excitement with a clap of her hands. The woman had to be at least ninety and still rocked it.
#GrandmaGoals
“Maybe later.” Luc winked at her, then turned back to the rest of the gathering. “Tonight, we also have a special guest, Ms Jetta Oliver.” He nodded to Jetta who stood beside him, microphone in hand. She grinned shyly at the squeals that followed Luc’s introduction.
“I thought the concert was her first and final with the tour now cancelled?” I asked, turning to Pax.
“Decided to face her fear. She’s too good for the shadows. Fucking proud of her.” Pax’s eyes remained firmly on his woman.
I hid my smile.
“We’re here to entertain and amaze you − we hope. So, without further ado…”
The band started and launched straight into a rousing rendition of Sam Hunt’s “House Party.”
The majority of the residents were unable to dance due to injury or sickness. Instead we clapped, stamped, and chair boogied. I think I fell a little in love with Luc for giving the residents a unique and unexpected way to break the monotony of illness.
The band crossed genres, launching into “Classic” by MKTO, “Dear Future Husband” by Meghan Trainor, then into “Timber” by Pitbull. Jetta killed it. She owned the stage, moving into the crowd, dancing with little old women, laughing at the old men, living it up with the teens.
Luc left the stage, coming to undulate over Shirley, who reciprocated by trying to feel his crotch. Pax and I both laughed until tears ran down our face.
The young kids loved it. They called out requests and filmed the band on their phones, most of them focussing in on Jetta.
They flowed through old classics, Luc rocking out, his growly voice sending pleasant shivers curling down my body as he belted out Stevie Wright’s, Evie, only he changed the lyric to ‘Emmie’.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the slight flutter in my stomach as he pointed at me, grinning.
Finally, after an hour of music and fun, people started flagging, and they wrapped it up with a rousing rendition of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.” Perfect.
Once the crowd dissipated, I pulled myself to standing, using the walking stick to cross to where they were packing up. Luc watched me slowly shuffle across the linoleum floor, his eyes on my legs.
“Well, that was some surprise.” I smiled, reaching him.
“We had practice anyway, just moved venue.”
“Thank you.” I reached out, touching his arm. “Seriously, thank you.”
“What are friends for?” He ruffled my hair before turning to finish packing.
Chapter Nineteen
Emmie
On my seventh week, Dr. CJ finally allowed me to go home. It took me thirty minutes to walk up to my apartment. Luc had time to go up, open my door, dump my bags, put the kettle on, and walk back down to help me up.
He never complained as I huffed and puffed my way up, determined to do it myself.
When we finally walked through that door, I collapsed on the couch face down, loathed to move.
A mug of tea and a glass of water appeared on the coffee table. Luc’s arms snaked around my torso, and he gently shifted me up, positioning a pillow on my bad side.
As I settled, he moved to sit at the foot of my couch, scowling and shaking his head.
I glanced over as I reached for the meds and water. “What?”
“Don’t know if I should leave you. Maybe you should stay with me. At least I don’t have stairs.”
“You do too!”
“Only to the extra rooms downstairs. You don’t need to use them. My dungeon is still under construction.”
I laughed throwing the painkillers and antibiotics in my mouth, tilting my head back, downing the water.
I’d developed another unfortunate infection in my thigh two days ago. They’d let me come home on the condition I returned every second day to outpatients for checking until it cleared. Either way, it sucked balls. At least I was on the tail end of the recovery period. Another few days and I would be off the meds.
I grimaced at the taste of the medication before stretching forward to dump the cup and pick up the mug. My side protested the movement, but I didn’t comment. Luc sipped his coffee, giving me a side eye.
I raised an eyebrow at him in question.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“What question?”
“Moving in with me.”
I blinked. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a bullet wound.”
“Ha. Soooo funny.” I shook my head. “No. I need to get back into a routine. I need to be home with my things and my clothes and water my plants. Look at my herbs, they’re–”
“Perfectly fine. I watered them.” I blinked at him, looked at the herbs and then back to him. Luc rubbed a hand over his face, rasping fingers across his stubble.
“I’m not comfortable with you being here alone, Em. What happens if you fall in the shower or something?”
“I would die before letting you see me naked.”
Luc grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I guess I shouldn’t mention the ambulance ride then?”
I paused, tea halfway to my mouth. “Wait, what?”
He threw his head back, laughter sending his shaggy hair bouncing. “Gotcha!”
“Dear lord. I… You need to leave. Now!” I shoved him with my good foot and then groaned as my body protested the movement. He grinned, reaching over to rub my left calf.
I turned away, face flaming, but not withdrawing. His fingers were hitting the tight muscles just right.
Luc changed subject. “Pass the remote.”
We settled in, finding a Die Hard marathon.
Three hours later, I woke in bed, pain meds and water on my bedside table, a note tucked under the glass.
Apartment’s locked. Sleep well, Beautiful.
Chapter Twenty
It took me an age to shuffle down the stairs the next morning. My pits were damp, and I couldn’t quite catch my breath by the time I reached the ground. Leaning heavily against the brick wall of the staircase
, I raised the arm that wasn’t clutching my cane in limp celebration.
“Yay…!”
“Hey.”
My head shot up as Luc filled my vision. Leaning casually against the outer wall of the apartment building, a coffee cup in one hand, aviator sunglasses protecting him from the glare of the early morning sun, a black and blue collared, long-sleeved shirt open at the neck. He’d left his black jacket open over the long shirt. His spare hand held a second cup of steaming brew.
Luc tilted the first to his mouth for a sip as I struggled to focus.
“What are you doing here?”
“Good morning to you too.” He pushed off the wall, coming to stand in front of me.
“Tea?” He held out the spare cup, as I continued panting and leaning against the brick wall of the stairwell entrance. I ignored the cup.
“Seriously, Luc. What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, still holding out the tea. “I was in the area.”
I looked around the deserted car park. A bike on bricks, my little shitbox car−Rudolph−and Luc’s Alfa Romeo were the only cars in the empty lot.
“You were in the area… Okay, Pinocchio.”
He grinned, eyes crinkling. “You know I love these pet names, Keys.”
I pushed off the wall, not wanting to look weak. He took another sip before pushing his sunglasses up his nose with his thumb.
Birds chirped in the distance, cars passed the empty lot, and I struggled to supress my annoyance.
I was unsuccessful. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
He ignored the question.
“Never seen that dress before.”
My dress was an old gift from Addie. Knee length, I’d paired the robin’s-egg blue patterned sundress with a long coat Kel had gifted me last year, thick tights to ward against the cold, and flats.
I flipped him off, pissed at his lack of answers. I turned, moving towards my car, gritting my teeth against the pain, cane making an angry clicking noise on the pavement as I shuffled forward.
Luc fell into line beside me as we crept towards the car.
“I’m just saying. You look nice. Healthy.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure the general public will assume the cane is a fashion statement.”
“We could take my car, you know.” He talked down to his coffee cup, ignoring my sarcastic statement. I halted, twisting my neck to look up at him.
“I have a car.” I pointed at my little red machine. “See? It even runs.” I sarcastically jingled the keys clutched in my free hand.
“And I have a better one.”
I couldn’t argue with that. His Alfa Romeo was gorgeous.
“Mine is also higher than yours. And you get to sit there and look pretty.” His eyes met mine, a slight smirk on his lips. “And you don’t need to move your foot for the clutch.”
My little Rudolph was a manual. I hadn’t been looking forward to the pain.
“Besides, she needs a good rev. I’ve left her rusting in the garage too long since I got the bike.”
I sighed heavily, shifted to my left, and aimed for his car. I didn’t ask questions, grateful to not have to freaking drive anywhere with this bloody injury. But he didn’t need to know that.
He clicked the locks, and in I slid, taking the cup of tea from him and letting him close the door behind me. As he walked around the car, I released a small groan and breathed deeply against the pain.
We didn’t speak as Luc got in. I took another sip of tea, then glanced over, catching him watching me. “What?”
“You’re not ready to do this.”
I frowned at his tone. “I am doing this. I need this, Luc.”
His eyes raked over my face. Whatever he saw there made him sigh.
“Fuck.” A hand pushed through his hair. “Fuck me.” He turned to the wheel, hand going to the ignition. “Drink your fucking tea before I change my mind.”
I hid a grin, lifting the cup to my lips. “Sailor Moon tonight?”
“No.” His eyes met mine. “The last time we watched that I dreamt I was Tuxedo.”
“Hot. I’d totally date him.” I sipped my beverage as Luc backed out of the lot.
“Oh really? Is it the mask or the tux that makes you hot?”
“Neither.” I watched his strong hand move the gear stick, trying to ignore the warm feeling pooling deep in my belly as we spoke.
“Have you ever read Fifty Shades of Grey?”
Luc gave me a look.
“Okay… seen the movie?”
He rolled his eyes and looked back at the road.
“So, no on the Fifty. Okay. Got it. As the story goes, in Fifty Shades the lead male character says to the lead female character−” I deepen my voice imitating Mr Grey, “−I don’t do romance.”
Luc sputtered out a laugh. “What the fuck?”
I nodded emphatically. “Right? It’s okay he redeems himself later, but yeah. Jerk.”
We both lapsed into comfortable silence as he concentrated on negotiating out of my apartment complex.
“Continue,” he directed as he eased the car into traffic.
“Well, I like the fact Tux is a guy who appreciates romance. He doesn’t see it as sissy or silly. He gets that making his woman feel appreciated is a big thing. That’s the kind of guy I’d like to date.” God knew it would never happen.
He laughed. “You’re such a romantic.”
“I know.” I grinned unrepentantly.
“Sooo…” He drew out the word.
“So?” I mimicked, balancing the now empty cup on my knee.
“You like music.”
After a long pause, I laughed. “Well, yeah. And…?”
“You’ve never come to one of my gigs.” True. The first time I’d seen him perform was at the rehabilitation centre.
“And…?” I asked.
We cruised to a stop at the traffic lights. Luc’s blue eyes met mine.
“And I want you to come to my house party next weekend. We’ll be playing. You should at least see us once more before you jet off to London.”
Luc’s house was old, decrepit, and badly in need of a complete renovation. The only thing that didn’t need improvement was the outdoor area. The old owners had created their own little piece of perfection. Luc planned to slowly renovate it himself.
“Okay.” The word flew out of my mouth before I could reel it back.
“Good.” He refocused on the road. We sat in companionable silence for another few minutes.
“Will you drink?”
I blinked over at him. “What?”
“Will you drink? Have a beer? Or a wine. Let yourself have fun.”
“I don’t drink.” The automatic response fell with ease.
“Why?” I watched his profile, the strong jaw with its hot dusting of scruff. His slightly too long dark hair.
“I’m on medication.” The excuse rolled easily off my tongue.
His eyes flicked over to me, then back to the road.
“You won’t be next weekend.”
True. I shouldn’t have asked him to come to my last check-up.
“I… I like to be in control.” I tried to put a seed of truth into my answer.
“And?”
I shrugged. “I just do. End of story.”
We didn’t talk as he drove the rest of the way to the office.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emmie
“I love this song!” I yelled at Jetta and Addie, struggling to be heard over the music as we all shimmy-danced on our pool chairs.
We were at Luc’s house party on one of the last good days of warmth. The sun had set an hour ago, and Luc’s house now teemed with people.
My leg ached, and I felt bone weary after a long week back at work, but damn was I glad I’d womaned up and came tonight.
Jarrett arrived back to our little spot, dumping our drinks on a small table someone had dug up for me.
Pax handed over a
giant bowl of chips, as Luc and his band flowed straight from a Led Zeppelin classic into a smooth Nirvana jam. I grinned and stole a chip.
“Come on.” Pax led Jetta onto the makeshift dance floor. He pulled her close as they slow danced to “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Addie and I giggled as Jetta and Pax ignored everything, swaying to their own tune as people rocked out around them.
“I want that,” Jarrett sighed, resting his head on my shoulder.
“Me too.” Addie snuggled into my other side. “If only life would give me a love like theirs.”
Me three.
I lifted my gaze from the sweet couple and rested on Luc yell-singing into the microphone.
He offered me a wink as he strummed his guitar, a heart-stealing grin lighting his face. My heart dipped and my stomach warmed as I grinned back.
Just friends. You’re leaving. Remember?
I was in so much trouble.
“Did you meet Luc’s sisters?” This came from Addie.
“Yeah. They’re lovely.”
“Yeah.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her squint in my direction. She opened her mouth as if to continue, then snapped it shut pursing her lips, then turning to watch the band.
“Has anyone seen Courtney?” Kel asked after a few moments, looking around for Jetta’s pop-princess sister.
“I haven’t seen Sawyer either.” Addie commented, referring to another of our hackers.
We all grinned. To everyone’s surprise, Sawyer and Courtney had hit it off following her and Jetta’s rescue. When Courtney had returned to rehab, they’d kept in touch, writing postcards and letters to each other. Sawyer now regularly danced around the office singing Courtney’s pop hits, planting earworms. Her attendance tonight had been a surprise planned especially for Jetta.
“We’re going to take a break,” Luc said as the song came to an end. “Feel free to hit up the karaoke!”
He placed his guitar on the stand, then moved to leave the makeshift stage. A cute brunette hovering off to the side caught his hand. He grinned at her and stopped for a chat.
“Who’s that?” Jarrett asked, nodding towards the attractive twosome.
Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) Page 8
