He was warm and strong and powerful, but absolutely no match for terror that was The Exorcist. What had we been talking about? Now I couldn’t think about any walls banging except the one Regan was currently banging the shit out of and spraying down with pea soup. We watched the rest of that damn movie wound around each other like pretzels, and he finally succumbed to the false security that an afghan eyehole can provide.
Click. Click. Click.
What the hell was that?
Click. Click. Click.
Oh no.
I lay paralyzed in my bed, every light in my entire apartment blazing.
Click. Click. Click.
I pulled the covers up higher, covering my face up to my eyes, which kept a constant vigil around the bedroom. Brain knew we were safe and secure, but also kept replaying scenes from that terrible, terrible movie, making it impossible to shut off for the night and go to sleep. Nerves had everything on lockdown, blazing a trail of fiery adrenaline throughout my body. I hated Simon with every fiber of my being in that moment. I also wished he was here.
Click. Click. Click.
What was that?
Click. Click.
Nothing.
Then Clive leaped on the bed, and I screamed bloody murder. Clive puffed out his tail and hissed at me, wondering why the hell Mommy was screaming at him, I’m sure. The click-click-click was his goddamned kitty hangnail.
My phone vibrated an instant later, shaking the entire nightstand and eliciting another scream from me. It was Simon.
“What the hell is wrong? Why are you screaming? Are you okay?” he yelled when I answered, and I could hear him through the phone and through the wall.
“Get your ass over here right now, you motherfucking scary movie pusher,” I seethed and hung up. I pounded on the wall and ran out to unlock the door. In much the same way I’d run up the last few steps of the basement stairs when I was a kid, I hightailed it back into my room, jumping the last few feet and landing in the center of my bed. I wrapped the covers around me and peered out, waiting. He knocked, and I heard the door push open.
“Caroline?” he called.
“Back here,” I yelled. Sad that I’d been reduced to this, but I was glad to see him.
“I brought the pie,” he said with an embarrassed grin. “And this,” he added, producing the afghan from behind his back.
“Thanks.” I smiled at him from behind my pillow shield.
A few minutes later we were settled on my bed, each balancing a plate and a glass of milk. We’d been too full, then too terrified to eat pie earlier. Clive and his phantom hangnail retired to the other room after rolling his eyes at Simon and swishing his tail.
“How old are you?” I asked, cutting into my pie.
“Twenty-eight. How old are you?”
“Twenty-six. We are twenty-eight and twenty-six years old and terrified of a movie,” I mused, poking in a bite. The pie was good.
“I wouldn’t say I’m terrified,” he countered. “Spooked? Yes. But I only came over to stop you from screaming.”
“And to taste my pie,” I added, winking.
“Shut it, you,” he warned, and then he went ahead and tasted my pie.
“Jesus, that’s good,” he breathed, eyes closed as he chewed.
“I know. What is it about apples and homemade pie crust? Is there anything better?”
“If we were eating this na**d, then it would be better,” He grinned, opening one eye.
“No one is getting na**d here, buddy. Just eat your pie.” I pointed at his plate with my fork.
We chewed.
“I feel better,” I added a few minutes later, drinking my milk.
“Me too. Not too spooked anymore.”
He smiled as I took his plate and set it on the nightstand. I sighed contentedly and lay back against my pillows, sated and less scared.
“So, I gotta ask…James Brown? I mean, James Brown?” He laughed, and I kicked him as he lay down next to me. We turned on our sides to face each other, arms curling under the pillows.
“I know, I know. I can’t believe you held it in as long as you did! I know you’ve been dying to make jokes since last night.”
“Seriously, who is this guy?” he asked.
“He’s a new client.”
“Ah, got it,” he said, looking pleased.
“And an old boyfriend,” I added, watching for his reaction.
“I see. New client but old boyfriend—wait, the lawyer?” he asked, trying to keep his expression neutral, but failing.
“Yep. Haven’t seen him in a few years.”
“How’s that gonna work?”
“Don’t know yet. We’ll see.”
I really didn’t know how things were going to go with James. I was glad to see him, but it was going to be tough to keep things professional if he wanted more. And every instinct I had told me he wanted more. In the past he’d had more control over me than I was comfortable relinquishing. I’d found myself sucked into the gravitational pull that was James Brown—lawyer, not Godfather of Soul.
“Anyway, we’re just going to be working together. It’ll be a great job for me. He wants his entire place redone.” I sighed, already planning the palette. I rolled onto my back and stretched. I’d really abused my stomach tonight and was starting to get sleepy.
“I don’t like him,” Simon said suddenly, after a long pause.
I turned and saw him scowling.
“You don’t even know him! How could you possibly not like him?” I laughed.
“I just don’t,” he said, now turning his gaze to mine and unleashing the power of the baby blues.
“Oh, please, you’re just a stinky boy.” I laughed, ruffling his hair. Wrong move. It sure was soft…
“I don’t stink. You said yourself I was April fresh,” he protested, lifting his arm and sniffing.
“Yes, Simon, you smell delicious,” I deadpanned, sniffing the air around me.
He left his arm up higher on the pillow, and I knew if I rolled just a little I could slide right on into the nook. He looked at me, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly. Was he thinking what I was thinking?
Did he want to nook me?
Did I want to nook him?
Oh the hell with it…
“Obviously.” I smirked.
I looked at him, exquisitely rumpled and in my bed. He smiled that smile, and I sighed. I allowed myself a moment to indulge in a fantasy where I was then quickly flipped and ravaged to within an inch of my life, but I wisely got control of my inner whore.
“What if you get scared tonight?” he asked as I sat up and stretched.
“I won’t,” I threw back over my shoulder.
“What if I get scared?”