Just One Kiss - J. Saman Page 0,14
passed out in my arms earlier today.
“I took three ibuprofen. I’m sure that will help.”
“I left you some stronger stuff there.”
“Yeah, but if I take that on an empty stomach, they’ll make me nauseated.”
“Alright then. Lean your weight on me.” She does and I do my best to ignore the scent of her freshly washed hair or the softness of the sweater she’s wearing or the way her warm body feels when it’s this close to mine. I crouch down so it’s not a strain for her to reach my height and help her down the remaining steps.
“Thanks, Miles. You’re really quite the hero today, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to maintain my status as Captain America.”
“With the glasses, you’re also kind of like Superman.”
“You mean Clark Kent.”
“No,” she huffs in some obvious discomfort. “Everyone knows he’s always Superman. Like you.”
I lead her over to the kitchen counter, helping her up onto one of the bar stools and pointing to the one next to it for her to put her leg up on. She’s wearing flannel pajama pants, Christmas socks with reindeer grips on the bottom, and a cream-colored sweater. Her dark hair is still damp, hanging loosely down her back and over her shoulders, longer than it was even back in high school.
“Here. Some ice for your knee. Were you able to make your calls?”
She smiles gratefully at me and places it directly over her pajama pants while I go about finishing up dinner. “Yes. My dad was not happy as you can imagine until I told him who you were and then he backed down a bit.”
“Who I am?”
“Someone I went to high school with. He was relieved that my rescuer is someone I know.” I hear Betsy abandon her spot on her bed and come traipsing over to London. “Such a sweetie, aren’t you?” she coos at Betsy. “What’s…” She trails off with a laugh. “I don’t even know if your dog’s a girl or boy.”
“Girl. Her name is Betsy,” I tell her, glancing over quickly and meeting her eye before going back to the stove.
“Betsy. Interesting name for a dog.”
“I didn’t name her. She’s a rescue dog. I adopted her from the shelter about a month ago.”
I look over to find London smiling softly. “Hero indeed,” she whispers softly, but I catch it as she rubs behind Betsy’s ears.
I serve us our dinner, sitting in the seat on the other side of London’s leg instead of the one beside her. If this bothers her or not, she doesn’t comment.
“Your home is beautiful, Miles. How long have you been living up here?”
“About five years,” I tell her, and she nods, looking around. “When I bought it, it was a rundown farm, abandoned for close to a decade. But it had everything I needed, and the price was right, so I went for it.”
“Did you restore it yourself?”
“Most of it.”
She lifts her spoon loaded with stew up to her mouth, blowing on it before taking a bite. I watch, mesmerized, as she licks her lips and makes a humming noise in the back of her throat.
“Wow. Yum. This is really good. I’m not used to home cooking like this unless I’m at my parents’ place, which isn’t that often.”
I’d cook for her every night if this were real.
“You said you live in the city? In New York?”
She peeks over at me with a wry smile flirting on her lips. “Did I say that?”
I chuckle, taking a sip of my beer. “Yeah. When you were lamenting your cell service provider.”
“Oh, god,” she groans, throwing her head back. “I forgot about that. Can we just pretend none of that happened? I blame it on the blood. I can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“You were fine.”
She laughs. “You asked how hard I hit my head.”
Crap. I might have. Not my best moment. “Then we’ll pretend that didn’t happen either. Do you want one?” I ask, holding up my beer. “I also have wine and some vodka in the freezer, I think.”
“I’ll stick to water for now. I might take one of those heavier pills later and I’ve already passed out once on your watch.”
We eat in silence for a couple of minutes, a heavy, thick silence that I’m desperate to fill. I want to ask her a dozen questions. Learn what happened to her and her life after the bonfire.
It’s a strange thing seeing a woman after so long who you used to be crazy about.
Who the last time you saw her, you