I swept my hand across her soft cheekbone and forced myself to turn away. After I closed the door behind me, I headed into the shower. The hot water washed over me, and I closed my eyes. I pictured Heidi and the way she’d come apart in my arms earlier, and pretended my hand was hers. I slowly pumped my painful erection, picturing her tits and smile. The way she cried out, her mouth parted as she came . . .
It didn’t take long for me to come, her name on my lips. I rested a forearm on the tiled wall, my breathing erratic as I came back down. It eased the ache, but it wasn’t enough. My hand was a poor substitute for Heidi Greene, and my body knew it. It demanded her touch. Her kiss. Her.
I had to be careful, though, with how much I let myself want her. I was a dead man walking, and it was only a matter of time till this earth was rid of me. I would be just another dusty police file, just another forgotten name. No one would remember me.
She wouldn’t be any different.
As soon as I was gone, she’d move on. Go back to hustling tips out of weak-willed men in her bar, fighting her way to the top of the food chain. And I had no doubt she would succeed. She was strong, smart, and brave. She wouldn’t give in to this world without a fight, and the world didn’t stand a chance against her. Hell, neither did I. I might not be willing to let her get too close to me, or to trust her . . .
But damned if I didn’t want to.
CHAPTER 10
HEIDI
The next afternoon, we walked down Yawkey Way, toward Gate A at Fenway, hand in hand. Red-and-blue banners with the Red Sox’s championship years listed on them lined the buildings, and people drank freely while chanting loudly about the upcoming victory. Every time someone pushed into us, I was concerned they were a threat, but Lucas hadn’t listened to me when I’d told him this date thing was a horrible idea. There were men out there looking to kill us, and we were going to a freaking baseball game?
Yeah, that totally sounded like an excellent idea.
I hated baseball. And crowds. And dates.
Lucas hadn’t let go of me yet, and I had a feeling he somehow sensed that I wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction, away from him. Ever since he’d blown my socks off last night, I’d been in a weird place. And by weird place, I meant I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. And by thinking about him, I meant fantasizing about his lips on mine and his fingers doing magical things to me.
The same fingers that were securely latched onto mine right now.
He sighed, long and drawn out. “What’s wrong? You’re pouting again.”
I glanced at him. He looked handsome as the devil in his dark brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and Converse sneakers. He wore a Red Sox hat and a five-o’clock shadow to die for. He looked unassuming and . . . normal.
It was kinda freaking me out.
I glanced down at my own jeans and black puffy coat. It was only mid-April, and it was still unseasonably chilly, so I’d opted for a wool hat instead of a Red Sox one. “Does it matter why?” I muttered.
After all, I’d already made my feelings on this outing quite clear back at his place.
“Heidi,” he growled, using that warning tone of his he loved to pull out and throw in my face. “Don’t make me—”
“Fine. I think this is stupid. Why are we even bothering with the act? No one believes it. Going to watch a bunch of grown men in tight pants playing with their tiny balls isn’t going to make anyone feel differently, let alone those guys.”
“Because—” His phone rang, and he dug it out without letting go of me. “Shit. Hold on. Yeah?” Silence, and then, “Yeah, we got the air filters squared away by ten thirty this morning. They’re all with their buyers now, and we made a better profit than expected.”
Air filters? He was obviously speaking in code because there were people surrounding us. A woman shoved her elbow in my back and glared at me, as if I’d done something wrong by being near her in the first place, then pushed her way past the huge dude in front of me. Enough of this touristy crap. I rolled my eyes and tugged Lucas down a back road, next to the Boston Beer Works on the corner of the street.
He followed me, talking about car parts and sales reports, but dug in his heels and frowned when I headed down an alley I knew like the back of my hand. “Hold on, man.” Then, to me, “Where the hell are you going?”
“This way.” I yanked on his hand again, harder. “It’s a shortcut.”
He held the phone to his chest. “It’s a fucking ambush waiting to happen. No.”
He might think he knew the city better than me, but he was dead wrong. This was my city, thank you very much. I knew the streets to avoid and the ones that were safe to use. It was the rest of the world that got scared of dark alleys they didn’t know. “I used to sleep down there because it was close to the stadium. Vendors give out free food after the games sometimes, so it’s a popular spot for the homeless. Even the cops avoid alleys like this, so trust me. It’s fine.”
His grip tightened on his phone. I could hear a masculine voice calling his name from the other end. “You slept down there?”
My cheeks heated. Guess I hadn’t told him about that yet. Oops. “Later. Get back to your call,” I said, shaking my head. “And follow me.”