“No. Of course not. Your bed is very comfortable.” I licked my lips. Images of us together, naked, in that bed hit me hard. “You helped me, and it was nice of you. I appreciate it, but—”
He frowned at me, the heat of his body keeping me warm as the chilly wind made itself known. Winter refused to loosen its firm control of the climate, and I was starting to think it never would. “I told you, I’m not fucking ‘nice.’ Don’t call me that. I’m the villain in a fairy tale, not the hero.”
The urge to roll my eyes at his self-deprecation was strong, but I managed to contain myself. Barely. “Oh, believe me. I know that. I also know that you helped me, and I don’t want to keep taking your bed and complicating your life. Maybe I could still sleep at my place and we could be together, but not together. You know?”
He threw his arm over my shoulders and steered me toward his shop. Days-old snow and ice that refused to go away crunched beneath my feet, but I wasn’t worried about falling. “No way. First of all, I can’t guarantee your safety if you’re not with me. Second, it’s far too late for that. They’ve seen you go home with me once, and they would suspect something if it’s not a regular thing. My boss was understanding of my little adventure last night, to a point, but he made it very clear that he doesn’t want a war. If we give the Bitter Hill guys an opening, and they take it, I can’t retaliate. I can’t risk pissing Tate, or them, off any more than I already have. If I do, I can kiss my life good-bye—and I don’t even wanna think about what they’ll do to you.”
“But—”
“No.”
I would have been tempted to break free of his hold if it wasn’t so damn cold out here. Thank God he lived across the street. I’d let him continue being my personal heating pad, but I’d make my feelings clear. “I’m not yours to boss around, Lucky. I’ve told you, I don’t blindly take orders from anyone, not even you.”
Something crashed in the alley behind us as he opened the door and pushed me inside gently. “Yeah, you do. In my world, when your man gives you orders, you damn well listen.” He raised a hand when I opened my mouth. “And, yes, I know I’m not really your man. And, yes, I know it’s old-fashioned and fucked-up. But it is what it is, and it’s the life I lead, for better or for worse. If you’re going to be my woman, real or fake, it’s how it’s gotta be. End of story.”
“The hell it does. I—”
“Enough.” He slammed the door shut behind us and boxed me against the wall, leaning down so his face was level with mine. “When we’re within these walls, you wanna bitch me out, hit me, whatever, about the rules for out there? Fine. Go for it. But when we’re outside of this apartment, and your safety and our lives are at stake? You will listen to every damn word I say. There are no other options.”
I refused to lower my head or back down. What he said made sense, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. “You’re an asshole. We’re in private, so I can say it.”
“Yeah, you can.” His lips twitched ever so slightly. “And I agree. I am an asshole.”
“And an idiot.”
The twitch stopped. “That I don’t agree with, except for in one aspect, but you’re entitled to your opinion.”
“What’s that one aspect?”
“Not telling.” He pressed his body—oh my God, that body—against mine, grinning down at me. “It’s not smart to announce your weaknesses to just anyone.”
“I’m not just anyone,” I said breathlessly. I could feel things, pressed up against my things, and it made my stomach clench tight. “I’m your fake girlfriend.”
“Exactly my point.”
Grinning, he pushed off the wall and walked up the stairs. I followed him because, hey, the view was nice. Lucas Donahue had a hell of an ass. Also, I had nowhere else to go. Lucas swooping in like a modern-day Galahad—and, yes, I know, he was a very bad man, grrr, argh—it changed everything. Thanks to Bitter Hill’s guys, I was no longer safe out there on my own. So I needed to stay until I was.
And then he’d walk away, and I’d probably never see him again.
Something told me once Lucas Donahue finished with you, he didn’t come back to check in and see how you were doing afterward. Once you were done . . .
You were done forever.
He opened his apartment door, motioning me inside. I walked past him, keeping my eyes straight ahead, and flipped the switch on. It looked much the same as it had when we’d left this afternoon, but he’d folded the blanket he’d used last night on top of the couch, and cleaned up the mess I’d made patching him up. My bags still sat by the bedroom door, untouched, next to a black duffel bag of his that had been there last night, too. I stared at them, my heart ridiculously picking up speed when I thought about the next few days I’d be spending here. All day. Alone with him. Turning to face him, I held his jacket closed. It was cozy up here, but I wasn’t ready to take it off yet.