“Just breathe, buttercup.”

EMMA

It’s eerily quiet as I pass the dark houses on my street. There’s no one out this late. I hook the long strap of my messenger bag over my head so it doesn’t get in the way.

No doubt I’ll have blisters by the time I get there but I should be able to curl up on the sofa in the waiting room and catch a few hours of sleep before Mr. Stevens comes in for the day.

It’s embarrassing enough that he suspects I sleep over sometimes but to have him catch me would be even worse.

I turn the corner onto the main road. It borders a wooded area that always gives me the creeps. So when a dark shape moves out of the corner of my eye, I whirl around, fists at the ready.

“Going somewhere?”

Once it registers who it is, I scream in frustration. “Tank! What in the hell are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Where are you going, Emma?”

“None of your business.”

He taps his fingers against the helmet resting on his thigh. “Is there some reason you don’t want to go home?”

He’s going to make me say it out loud.

“Do you just get off on annoying me or what?”

“Something like that.”

It’s the lack of pity in his eyes that tears the words from my mouth. It’s the understanding. Like he’s been in my shoes a time or two and knows how much it sucks.

“My sister’s boyfriend is there and he’s … I just don’t want to be there, okay?”

He nods, a quick perfunctory motion, like he was just waiting for me to finish so we could move on. “Get on.”

“Wait, what? I just told you I’m not going back there.”

He starts the engine and the loud sound startles me in the stark quiet of the night. “I know. You’re coming home with me.”

At any other time I would have a million arguments ready. I’d rail at him for making assumptions or make a what kind of girl do you think I am? joke.

But it’s late. It’s dark. And he represents the only safety I’ve had in a long, long time. So I do something that makes no sense.

I get on the back of his bike and wrap my arms around his waist. “Okay. Let’s go.”

He pulls out and this time he’s not holding back the way he did on the way here. Maybe he can sense the wildness growing inside me, the restless need I have to just feel. Something.

Anything other than helpless.

We arrive at an apartment building about ten minutes away. He takes the helmet from me and stows it on the back of the bike. I follow him into the building and up several flights of stairs. We stop at an apartment on the third floor. He unlocks it and then punches buttons on a keypad next to the door.

As we enter, his eyes are constantly moving, surveying the room and the hallway behind us. I can see why he’s a bodyguard. He’s always on the alert for trouble.

“I like your place.”

He narrows his eyes at me, as if searching to see if the comment is sincere or snarky.

“There’s nothing in here but a couch and a television.”

I shrug. “Yeah, but it’s yours. There’s no one here to take your stuff or kick you out. I like it.”

He sets his helmet on the kitchen counter and then drops down on the couch.

“When you put it that way, I like it too. Do you want something to drink? I’ve got some sodas, fruit juice and I’m sure there’s some bottled water somewhere. Or, are you hungry?”

I hold up a hand before he goes into a detailed account of the type of food he has here. All I really want is to crash but I’m not exactly sure how this is going to work. His couch looks really comfortable but he’s sitting there now and doesn’t look like he’s planning on moving anytime soon.

“Truthfully, I’m exhausted. If I wait any longer, I’ll fall asleep on my feet.”

“Right. Follow me.”

He stands in one fluid movement and grabs my hand. I’m so stunned I don’t even yank it back. His palm engulfs mine and when I look down to where our fingers entwine, the size of his hand makes mine look like a child’s.

“Let me just strip the sheets for you.”

He drops my hand as we enter a bedroom and I rub my palm absently, already missing the contact. Tank doesn’t look like the kind of guy who does housework but he strips the bed of all the linen with the efficiency of someone who’s done it a thousand times in his sleep.

He disappears and I’m left standing next to the bed with nothing to do. Shouldn’t I be helping?

I look at the book on the night table next to the bed. There’s a picture of a soldier on the front. The comforter at my feet is a dark hunter green. The closet is open slightly, revealing several sets of fatigues and black combat boots.

He hasn’t come back yet so I wander over to the dresser and pull open the first drawer. It’s filled with boxer briefs. I slam the drawer shut.

“Find what you were looking for?”

I turn around slowly. “This is your room!”

He laughs softly then bends to spread the clean sheets in his arms over the mattress.

“What gave me away? My superior design skills or was it that warm, cozy feeling from the military fashions on display?”

“I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Unless you’re willing to share it then I’ll be on the couch.”

“I could take the couch. I’m smaller and I don’t need as much room. That makes way more sense.”

“Yeah, no.”

I want to argue but then he picks up my hand and puts a folded towel and washcloth into my arms. My stomach tightens as our fingers brush. The warmth of his hands linger even after he lets go.

“There’s no way I’m putting you on the couch. I’ve slept worse places, believe me. I’ll be fine. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He backs away slowly, holding my gaze the entire time.

My blood heats at the intense look in his eyes. His shoulders are so broad they take up the entire doorway. All of a sudden, I remember him fighting off those guys. There was no hesitation on his part. He just jumped in and took control of the situation.

No one has ever done anything like that for me before.

Just before he hits the hallway, he says, “I’m glad you’re here, Emma.”

I should be saying that to him. The weirdest thing is, I have the sense that he really is glad I’m here. We don’t know each other that well and probably have nothing in common.  He took out both of Paul’s thugs tonight and a bunch of those drunk guys, too without breaking a sweat.

I can’t pretend his brutality doesn’t scare me but he took those hits for me.

So in this moment, I’ve never felt safer in my life.