She purses her lips in indecision, her eyes darting across my face, probably attempting to determine my sincerity. She’s going to turn me down, and I wouldn’t blame her. I’d still help her home, of course. I’m not that big of a jerk.
My voice drops, pleading now. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Maddie please, will you let me tell you what I’ve been trying to say for months?”
Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks away. My body melts under the Arizona sun while I wait for what feels like an eternity before she answers. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
That’s all I need.
In one swift movement, I scoop her out of the car. She’s quiet in my arms, shrinking into me like she’s trying to disappear. I don’t want that. All I want to do in life is protect her.
Ironic, since I’m the one she needs protection from.
“Which floor?” I ask.
“The fifth. And the elevator is broken.” Her loose fingers tickle my neck, and I barely register what she said.
“The top floor?” Did my voice sound worried? Because I’m definitely not worried about carrying an injured woman up five flights of stairs.
Her eyes dance, and dang it if she isn’t cute enough to make me head for the stairs. “Sorry.” Her shrug pleads the opposite.
I grunt and start up the stairs. “No problem.” Except I feel like my masculinity really is at risk now.
The first two flights are easy enough, but after the third, I’m panting and have to set her on a step to take a breather. I bend over to ease the strain on my back and thighs. This is embarrassing.
“I think I’ll have to add these to your workout routine.” Maddie laughs at my bent body. “You clearly need more practice.”
I pop up and wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Do you think there’s room for two of us on the StairMaster?” It sounds dangerous, but I’d give it a try if it meant I got another chance to hold her.
She rolls her eyes and holds out her hands to me. “Come on, you big baby, I need ice.”
If only she neededme.
“Big baby,” I mutter, picking her up again. “I’d like to see you carry me up five flights of stairs.” I practically sprint the next two levels to prove my strength, and gently lower her to the ground next to her door, keeping an arm around her back to steady her. But the lack of oxygen catches up to me, and I try my hardest not to wheeze in her face. I’m not sure who is holding who up at this point.
I fish the keys out of my pocket, fumbling with them while Maddie remains silent beside me. I’d pay a hundred dollars to know what she’s thinking.
I wouldn’t risk paying more than that because it’s probably something unpleasant.
I get the door open and help her to the couch, propping her ankle on two throw pillows. She tells me where to find the ice and medicine, and I follow her directions. I don’t snoop—too much—while I walk around her apartment. It’s tidy, as expected. But it’s also warmer, painted in bright cheery tones and oversized, inviting furniture. She even has a sign in her kitchen that says “Happiness is homemade.” Six months ago, I would have teased her about it all, but now, I want to stay here and find that happiness with her.
“Here.” I hand her the pills and a glass of water then put the ice pack around her ankle. I use a dish towel I found to tie it around and keep it snug, moving as gently as I can to not cause her any more pain.
“Smart,” she says.
“I’ve had my fair share of sprained ankles.”
“Same.” She yawns then pulls out her phone.
I turn away, studying the décor, not quite ready to face what I came here for.
“Just a second. I need to text my best friend and let her know I’m not stuck in a closet again.”
My eyes linger on a photo of what must be her parents. “It’s almost like you’ve had some experience getting trapped in closets.”
To my surprise, she chuckles. “Okay. I’m ready.”
I spin around. “Oh, uh.” I thought I had at least two more minutes of snooping.
She holds up her phone, showing me the timer that’s already running down. “Your time is ticking.”
