A Friend in the Dark - Gregory Ashe Page 0,39
the front desk, and while yanking his jean jacket off, asked, “Do you have a Sam Auden staying as a guest?” Rufus knew he probably looked half-insane to the nice-looking blonde woman on the other side of this conversation. His face was flushed from all the running, adrenaline, and unrelenting heat, and Rufus was sweating everywhere. He’d just showered too, dammit.
“I’m sorry, we can’t give out information on our guests,” the clerk replied.
“It’s important.”
“I understand—”
“No, you don’t,” Rufus interrupted. “You don’t need to tell me his room number, just call it yourself and say there’s a redhead here to see him. He’ll know what that means.”
Her eyebrows, by this point, had reached her hairline. “Sir, I can’t do that.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to him.”
“Please don’t be difficult.” She picked up the receiver but said, “I’ll have to call my manager.”
“Lady, you don’t want to see me at ‘difficult.’”
“Rufus?”
Rufus spun, nearly overextending himself. There was Sam, standing in the open doorway of the shop.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked. “Are you ok?”
Rufus pushed off the counter and moved like he was ready to fling himself into Sam’s arms. Because he’d had—pressure and heat on bare skin—the shit scared out of him—tracing freckles across his stomach—and Sam would know what to do about Heckler. Rufus stopped short of touching Sam, yanked his beanie off, and wiped his forehead. “I’ve had better mornings.”
As though Sam didn’t realize what he was doing, his hand came up. To straighten Rufus’s hair? Rufus had no idea, but he watched as Sam realized what was happening and pulled his hand back. Sam said, “I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you were going to take a few days and get out of the city.”
Rufus smoothed down his hair himself. “How exactly would I pay for that impromptu vacation? I mean, what should I do? Raise a pant leg, show some skin, and hope someone picks me up on the parkway? I about got killed getting here—I could do with a bit of sympathy.”
Sam frowned, holding out a protein bar to Rufus, and said, “Heckler?”
Rufus snatched the bar. He tore the package open and crammed the entire thing in his mouth. “Fuggin’ ’itch,” he grumbled around peanut butter and nuts and oats.
For maybe fifteen seconds, Sam seemed to be somewhere else, thinking. Then he looked at Rufus dead-on. “You’re hungover.”
Rufus swallowed and stuck a finger in his mouth to pick at a bit of protein bar stuck in a molar. “Aren’t you so sweet in the mornings.”
One dark eyebrow went up, and in that irritatingly mild Sam voice, he said, “I just meant, I’m going to pick up a bottle of water and some ibuprofen from the store. Then we’re going to sit down, and you’re going to tell me what happened.” He turned to go and added, over his shoulder, “For the record, I’m very sweet in the morning. And I don’t even need a guy to pull up his pant leg for me. Even if I do think twinkie twig legs are cute.”
Rufus frowned and rubbed hard at his left eye until he was seeing spots. It felt good in the way that dull pain could. He blinked away the stars and watched as Sam grabbed a bottle from a cooler before approaching the register. Rufus noticed two younger guys seated nearby. They were watching him watching Sam. Then one smirked, looked pointedly at Sam, and swallowed down the length of his peeled banana.
Sam came back with a small foil-wrapped packet of ibuprofen, which he held out, and a bottle of water. “Drink all of it.”
Rufus snatched both without saying anything in the way of thanks. He tore open the foil, swallowed the pills dry, then cracked the seal on the water. After downing half the bottle, he motioned it at the two men with their sex fruit while staring at Sam. “Thank God you found someone to give you a hand last night. Or two. Or ass. Whatever it was they offered.”
After a quiet moment, Sam nodded. “Ok. Get it all out of your system?”
“I’ve got piss and vinegar for days.”
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
Rufus screwed the cap back on. “Do you still have a room?”
One of Sam’s hands wrapped around Rufus’s, clutching the bottle. His other hand removed the cap. “I said drink all of it.”
Rufus narrowed his eyes. “I can’t if you don’t let go of me.”
Sam released him, but then he stood there, a big dumb fuck