How to Save a Life (5 page)

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Authors: Amber Nation

BOOK: How to Save a Life
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I raised my index finger and thrust it towards his face and tried my hardest to sound stern, “Why do you have to be so rude?" I yelled in his face. “I didn’t ask to come here! I have been told what to do basically for the last eight years of my life. Now, we can both forget about all of this and you can just take me to the nearest hotel. Or, if you are too busy to take me, please just point me in the direction of my room and I will call a cab in the morning. My pain medicine is wearing off and my foot is throbbing so I wouldn’t be in your way." I let out an exasperated sigh, I was just tired of being treated like shit from someone who knew me all of five minutes.

“Oh my God!" talk about a delayed reaction, you would think my spidey senses would be on hyper alert after my past situations, but I felt so safe with Mike.
How could I be so stupid?

I’m sure I had a horrified expression on my face, because Mike pushed himself off the counter and began advancing on me.

“What’s wrong, Sheridan? Is it your foot?" He genuinely sounded concerned, which was a pleasant change from him being a pompous asshole.

“Well, my foot is aching, but I’ve dealt with much worse. I just realized why you are being such a fucking douche to me!"

His brows pierced together as if he were challenging me to confront him.

“You are going to murder me in my sleep!" His jaw dropped open and he looked like he had a million and one things to say, but it seemed as if I had stunned him speechless. I continued on, placing a hand on my hip. “No, seriously, that’s why you were so adamant about me coming with you."

Finally, he seemed to come unglued as he threw his head back and let out a barreling laugh that came from deep within his gut.

Seeing him release such a hearty belly laugh at my concern should have royally pissed me off, but instead it did the complete opposite, it turned me on. A rush of wetness flooded from my core, instantly soaking my panties.

It had been so long since a man had invoked such a positive and sexual reaction from me.

I had to tamp down my lust and remember that he was a cocky jerk and things would be just dandy.

“You actually think that I brought you here to kill you in your sleep? Chop you up into tiny little pieces and shove you down my garbage disposal? You are delusional, maybe your concussion is affecting you more than you initially thought."

My hand was still placed on my hip while my other was balled tightly into a fist and I tapped my good foot mercilessly on the floor. He technically hadn’t answered me and I wasn’t going to stand down until I was thoroughly convinced. His explanation seemed a little too well thought out if it was just a spur of the moment.

“That’s not the reason I brought you here, Sheridan. And besides, my house doesn’t even have a garbage disposal, which, therefore, makes my plan void." He shrugged as if I was the absurd one.

I relaxed just a fraction, but that didn’t answer my question of why. “Then why did you volunteer to bring me here?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest, which showcased a white bandage taped on my forearm, covering the biggest abrasion from the flying shards of glass.

He came a beat closer, quickly closing in the bit of distance between us. I instinctively took a step back, trying to widen that gap. I couldn’t risk him getting closer to me, if I were to get a better whiff of his spicy scent, I would sure be a goner, and I needed to stand my ground.

“Sweetheart, I haven’t a clue, but when you’ve hatched another ridiculous theory, be sure to fill me in." He said in a low, cocky and condescending tone.

I really thought he liked provoking me. He wanted to see fire, well he was about to get a taste of his own rudeness and go up in flames.

“The name is Sheridan, not sweetheart. I’m not now, nor will I ever be
your
sweetheart. Now, please do me a solid and point me in the direction of my room for the night. I’ll be out of your way first thing in the morning." I may have looked strong on the outside, but on the inside I was shaking like a flimsy leaf getting ready to be blown into the wind. I would never be able to hold my own in a fight, it was too scary and intimidating. No wonder why I always submitted to Pate...
Stop thinking about him.

He said not a word as he shuffled past me and led me back through the hallway towards the entryway to retrieve my duffle. He went through the living room and down another hallway that had two doors on the right and one on the left. Opening one of the doors on the right, he brought my duffle and sat it down on the bed and walked around me and was out of sight.

This was an extremely bad idea to come here, in leaving my parents’ house altogether, but if I was going to make a new life, I needed a new place to call home. It was just my luck that I would be blindsided in a wreck and stuck here for God knows how long.

After I went to a hotel in the morning, I needed to find a replacement mode of transportation. My mom wasn’t happy to hear that I had broken yet another bone, stuck in a strange town, and wanted me home immediately. I couldn’t though, go home, it wasn’t safe.

I closed the door then sat my keyboard on top of the white painted dresser. Taking a look around the room it was just like the rest of the house, clean. I very much liked that he didn’t feel the need to be the normal statistic for a man, having a cluttered house with dishes piled high in the kitchen and empty beer bottles littering the coffee table. The guest bedroom was done in all white furniture. I was surprised to see that the comforter didn’t reflect his love of the color navy blue as it was crisply made with a red and white checkered gingham print bedspread. I couldn’t wait another minute, I flung myself down on the bed and sunk my toes of my unbooted foot into the fibers of the carpet below me.

Enjoying the luxury of a soft mattress for the night would be the highlight of my week. Then I would have to settle into some hard ass hotel bed for a few days until everything got situated. At least the accommodations at the hotel would be better than what I was used to. I just needed to keep thinking positive thoughts; things were headed in the right direction. Everyone hit a few bumps on the way to their happy ever after, even though I’ve encountered some rather large pot holes, the kind that would pop your tire, good things were bound to come.

I hoped.

Mike

Sitting in one of my wooden dining room chairs, my elbows on the table, and my head cradled in my hands, I reflected over the last few minutes. Leave it to me to be a world class asshole to Sheridan, it wasn’t her fault that I was attracted to her. I felt like a high school bully, picking on the girl who I had a crush on because I was too much of a pansy to let her in on my attraction.

She kept dropping not so subtle hints on things I really didn’t know how to grasp. Talking about not being
allowed
to do something and having to follow commands for the last eight years. The worst comment she made was that she has had much worse than a broken foot, I didn’t know how to articulate that. Someone or something had harmed Sheridan and it made my blood boil just to think that.

That girl had some serious skeletons in her closet and I was just adding to that fuel by being a dick. I needed to come up with a new plan on what to do, I wasn’t going to let her just take off in some unknown town, and I couldn’t keep being an asshole to her. And I very well couldn’t be around her and act on my lust craze that I had on her either. I think the best thing to do was just keep my distance. Perhaps they will have some extra shifts for me to pick up at work, or maybe an overabundance of cars will come into Ray’s that need to be fixed.

I heard a piano playing very faintly coming from the back of my house so I raised my head and straightened my slumped body. It was a sad song, extremely melancholy. I found myself instinctively rising from my chair and walking towards my guest bedroom so I could listen a little better. The song that Sheridan was playing, I remembered hearing in one of my several music classes that I took growing up, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.”

My heart hurt just listening to the tune filled with so much despair.

This was absolutely no song for a beginner, so she must know her way around the keys of a piano. Although, her keyboard was a top of the line model, it was still no match for a true actual well-tuned piano.

I raised my hand to knock on the door, wanting to apologize for my rudeness, but I stopped short and just rested my outstretched hand against the smooth grain of the wood.

I couldn’t tell you why I hesitated, because I didn’t understand it myself. A knot had formed in the pit of my stomach at the thought of her upset because of my actions, but it wouldn’t do a bit of good for me to go make nice with her. She would just see that as an open invitation to get close to me which was no longer an option. I don’t let people in, but damn if I didn’t kind of like the idea of letting her inside.

I couldn’t listen to this music, it was making me feel even more vulnerable. It wasn’t helping in drowning out the emptiness that was inside of me. I needed to get out of here and away from the feelings of longing and wanting something more.

Hopefully, Emmy Lou’s wouldn’t have much of a crowd. I didn’t want to deal with crazy women, flaunting their shit, wanting a chance.

Or perhaps, that was exactly what I needed.

A willing and able warm body, available for a no-strings attached quick fuck. They would know the score and hopefully that would satiate my desire to take Sheridan.

Yeah, I think that would do it, it had been awhile since I’d plunged my dick into a tight, hot pussy.

Thinking I held the magical solution to all of my problems, I had an extra pep in my step as I went to take a quick shower and get ready to go out on my quest to get laid.

I made quick time in washing and rinsing my body. With the exhaust fan on in the bathroom, I couldn’t hear the keyboard. So imagine my surprise when I dart out of the bathroom, with nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist and ran straight into Sheridan, making said towel slip out of my grasp as I grabbed her forearms to steady her balance.

“I’m sorry Sheridan, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I apologized, still holding onto her soft flesh. She had changed out of my clothes that swallowed her and into a red tank and plaid pajama pants.

She started backing up, making me drop my arms down to my sides. Having yet to look at me, I glanced down towards the floor to try and see what her eyes were trained on. Not even realizing that I was now in the nude showing off my now twitching cock at the thought of it being under Sheridan’s stare.

I bent down to grab my abandoned towel and quickly replaced it around my waist before her gaze snapped up to mine.

The heat in her eyes was overwhelmingly evident. She wasn’t unaffected by the sight of me, her lack of a response told me that.

“I wouldn’t want this if I were you.” I tried to sound snotty. Maybe if I could ward her off of me it would make things easier on me.

She arched her brow and curled up a corner of her mouth in disgust before she hastily bit out, “Oh, please stop flattering yourself.” And she whirled around into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Emmy Lou’s had a pretty decent crowd tonight, lots of women to choose from. I settled myself on an available bar stool and raised my hand signaling that I needed a beer.

Moments later, Charlie Hennings appeared with an ice cold bottle of Heineken that he had just popped the top on before sitting it on a napkin in front of me. With a brief jerk of my head portraying my appreciation, he went on about his work.

Charlie was newer around here, being settled here just a little over a year. He was a replacement bass player in our band, The Nation’s Capital, and was currently dating Maggie Walker who was the trauma nurse who was on the scene to help Sheridan just moments after her wreck occurred.

He was a good guy as far as I could tell, he knew I wasn’t much for idle chitchat, so he normally let me be.

The one person who I could tolerate around here was Brock Monroe, the other guitarist in the band and the closest thing to a friend I had. He didn’t pry into my past and I didn’t have to make excuses to him. He was there if and when I needed him.

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