“No.”
“No?” I repeat dumbly. “Why not? Don’t tell me it got a bad Yelp review.”
He glances over at me, gaze narrowed. “Because of your neighbor? Is that why you’re not going home?”
So he’d been listening when I gave my statement. “You could say that.”
You could also say that I’m not emotionally ready to face the aftermath of misplaced trust. That I don’t have the energy or strength to defend myself if she isn’t alone and push comes to more shoving. But “because of my neighbor” is less wordy, so we’ll stick with that.
Room service also sounds like a plan worth sticking to. Pay-per-view, ice machines and those decorative soaps that are too small to do any good if hygiene is an actual concern. I’m sure that’s all the medicine I need. A little chicken soup for the spoiled man’s soul and I’ll be able to face the repercussions of my life choices in the morning.
Pausing at the light, Carter blows out a forceful breath and then yanks on the wheel, doing a U-turn on the abandoned street. “You’re coming home with me. You can sleep in my guest room.”
“What?” I reached up to gingerly cup my jaw after jerking it in his direction. “Ow. No I’m not. I mean, thank you. For everything. I don’t know many strangers that would spend the whole night looking after a guy who let two idiots get the drop on him. You don’t need to do any more.”
“I let them get away.”
“You saved my ass, Carter. I heard what you said to the cops. When I collapsed, you let go of Tweedledumbass to check on me and they both bolted. But the end result is all that matters. I’m still standing. You’re still standing. The heroes win and truth and justice prevail.”
He lifts one shoulder to shrug off my words. “I wasn’t paying attention. I was talking to Wyatt and I let you…” He trailed off, expression grim with self-recrimination. “I didn’t realize you were standing out front alone until Fiona told me.”
My chuckle comes out sounding more like a ragged hiss. “It hasn’t been anyone else’s job to take care of me for years. But don’t worry, this is not something I plan to let happen again. Defense classes are in my future. Maybe Kung Fu. I’ll find someone to call me grasshopper and start wandering the West promoting peace with my mad skills. I’m not shaving my head though. Wyatt said he likes my hair.”
He’s fighting a smile. I can tell. “As we prize peace and quiet above victory, there is a simple and preferred method. Run away.”
If my jaw weren’t swollen it would drop to my knees. “Holy shit, Carter. Did you just quote Kung Fu to me?” Did a drill instructor, a Marine, just quote a fictional Shaolin monk from a seventies television show?
Now is not the time for me to get turned on. That’s not sexy. That’s not sexy.
That is so fucking sexy.
And that thought right there is why I shouldn’t be going home with him. Not for a reason like this, anyway. An injured, helpless, not sexually motivated reason. I need to think of something else, but the options are dwindling with every mile. “I could call Fiona.”
She wouldn’t say no. But we haven’t been the kind of friends that ask for more than notes from class and a sympathetic ear now and then. Thinking about it now, I don’t really have any, “let me stay at your place while I recover from a beating” sort of buddies. Especially since Toni is no longer an option. Just study groups, work friends and online fan forums.
I should fix that.
My new friendship goals don’t help me tonight, and the idea of Carter taking me to his place has me feeling guilty, embarrassed and yes, pathetically turned on. I’m sore, not dead.
“Fiona must be asleep by now. I’m not and I have the room.”
He’s acting like this isn’t a big deal, but going home with someone I met in a bar isn’t my usual MO. It’s not that I don’t think I’d be safe with him. A career Marine. A friend of the sainted Brady.
The man I’ve wanted to do filthy things to all night.
But I usually deal with my problems on my own. I like taking care of myself. I always have.
So stop being a wuss and go home.
I can’t. Not tonight.
“It’s late, Green,” Carter continues. “You and I know what the best move is here. You’ll stay with me and we’ll both get some sleep.”
He sounds tired, and I feel guilty. He did save me. It would be rude to say no.
Don’t do it. Don’t use that lame, “it would be rude” excuse.
I lean my head back and let my shoulders relax as I ignore my doubts and give in to the inevitable. I might as well, since he doesn’t seem to be willing to look at other options and I’m in no shape to argue. “I appreciate the offer.”