“Shit. Sorry.” He lifted his hands and took a step back. “Okay, fine. I’ll just stay over here, then. Can you stand on your own and walk?”
With a nod, I pushed to my feet. My legs felt shaky, but I managed. Ten stayed at least five feet away at all times. If I wasn’t such a mess, I’d probably think it was funny how much a person could hover from so far away. But he kept pace with me and sent me a worried glance every time I winced.
When we reached his truck, I faltered. I knew I could trust him, but I really didn’t want to be enclosed alone with anyone. Not right now. “My car’s over there,” I started, but he shook his head.
“We’ll get your car later. You’re in no condition to drive. Now get in.”
My nerves wrenched with fear, but I followed his instruction. “I don’t want to go back to my apartment.”
“Well, good. I wasn’t planning on taking you there.”
I nodded. I didn’t care where we went from there. I just wanted to get out of here.
Blondie was passed out in the passenger seat when I parked in front of my and Ham’s building. I hoped like hell he was home so he could take over babysitting duty, because this shit was freaking me out.
She looked so scared and small, helplessness ripped through me. I hated not being able to do anything for her, and I wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Ham’s woman already stirred up too many memories in me of someone else, someone precious, who’d been hurt, someone I had also been helpless to help.
I gulped and shook my head, shoving those memories down. I would’ve carried Blondie up to our place, but I didn’t want to scare her in case she woke to me touching her. So I nudged her knee until she stirred.
“Can you still walk?”
She rubbed her bleary eyes and nodded. Without a word, she followed me up to my door. When I unlocked it and let her in ahead of me, she paused, looking worried before she entered.
“Hamilton?” I called as soon as we were inside.
No answer.
Shit.
I swear, Blondie looked relieved though. “C-can I use your shower?” Her voice was so small, making me wish I would’ve hit Belcher a few times before letting him go tonight after all.
Since she knew her way around, I just pointed her down the hall. “I’ll get you something to change into.”
After she hurried away, clutching her shirt to her chest, I went into Ham’s room and found a shirt and sweatpants for her. The water was running when I inched open the door and laid the clothes on the edge of the sink’s counter for her to find. Then I retreated to the front room to pace.
I texted Ham, telling him to get his ass home, but he didn’t respond—fucker probably really did think I’d boned Blondie. The idiot.
No way was I equipped to deal with her in this state, so I shot off another SOS text. All this one said was, I need you. My place. Now.
Thirty second later, an answer came back: Be there in five.
I couldn’t help it, I grinned. But, shit, it was nice to know she would come to me in the middle of the night, just like that, no questions asked.
True to her word, Caroline knocked on my door damn near five minutes later.
I craved seeing her so hard that I wondered if I had called her because she would be the best person for Blondie right now, or the best person for me. Oh, well. Too late to matter now. She was here, and both Blondie and I were going to get a nice, healthy dose of her.
I ripped the door open, and a relieved breath of air seeped from my lungs. Damn, why did it always feel as if I was holding my breath until I could see her again?
She’d come fresh from bed. She hadn’t bothered to comb her hair or even pull it into a ponytail. It looked as if some fucker had been fisting his hands in it all night. Her T-shirt was huge and looked like something she’d probably snagged from her brother, and definitely like something she would sleep in. And her pants were plaid flannel. My mouth watered. I wanted to just invite her to crawl back into bed—my bed—and cuddle with me. Okay, more than just cuddle, but I could live with the cuddling stage for a while and working our way up from there.
Jesus, why did she have to look so damn good?
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I demanded, making sure there was plenty of accusation in my voice. Couldn’t let her know how much I loved her looking like this.
She scowled at me and stepped inside. “Pajamas. You know those clothes people wear in the middle of the night when they’re sleeping?”
I snorted. “Never worn any.”
She snorted right back, narrowing her eyes. “Figures.”
“Seriously.” I motioned to her clothes. “Where’s the slinky, tight, slutty clothes? What if this had been a booty call? Please, God, at least tell me you have a matching bra and panty set under there.”
“I don’t even own a matching bra and panty set. And I knew this wasn’t a booty call.” She tossed me a dry glance. “There was no reason to bother dressing up.”