“Can you get me a cup of tea, Jives?” I mocked in a British accent. “Just a dash of cream and two sugars.”
“I can’t get you tea but I can get you a bottle of water.”
A startled gasp left my lips as I scrambled to my feet. Andrew stepped out of the shadows and into the warm glow of a streetlight.
My pulse raced. “What are you doing out here?”
“I want to apologize.”
“No thanks.”
“It wasn’t an question.”
Eyes narrowed, I marched to where he stood and it was only then it dawned on me how tall he was. Andrew was a giant compared to my five-foot stature. I poked his rock hard chest.
“I don’t take apologies from self-important assholes.”
He cradled my finger against his t-shirt and grinned. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
“Fuck you.” Reeling my foot back, I kicked him in the shin, hard. He dropped my finger and cursed. “I’m not cute. You’re an asshole and there is nothing else left to say.”
Andrew clutched his leg, obviously in pain. I should have felt bad but I couldn’t muster an ounce of remorse. As I was about to turn the knob to go back into the club, he yelled my name. The desperation in his voice made me turn around.
“What time do you get off?” Andrew asked.
“Two a.m.”
“Awesome. I’ll see you then.”
Andrew hobbled off down the alleyway, leaving me dumbfounded. It was an emotion I was beginning to associate with Andrew. He was truly an enigma.
“One for the road?” Billy handed me a shot glass filled with amber liquid.
“Thanks.”
After the day I had, one shot would barely take off the edge. In the past eighteen hours or so, men had groped, mauled and generally treated me like scum. I was seriously considering becoming a lesbian for real this time. The shot didn’t taste like whiskey. It tasted like ginger ale.
When I glanced at Billy for an explanation, he gave me a fatherly smile. “You really thought I was going to let you drink and drive?”
“Your son is turning you into a softy.”
“And I’m a better man because of it.”
I wished my mom had the same outlook when she had me. Instead she often used the word “leech” to describe my relationship to her, which was ironic. She was the biggest leech in the entire universe; sucking men’s wallets dry since 1989. I belted my trench coat and pulled my hair into a ponytail.
Billy took away the shot glass, replacing it with a can of mace. “I would offer you a ride if my house wasn’t on the opposite side of town but since it is, use this if need be.”
I wasn’t an idiot. My teenage years had been predominantly spent on the streets. Hence, why I kept a Taser named Bo stashed in my jacket pocket 24/7. Bo kept my virginity in tact until I was nineteen and saved me from countless other hairy situations. Still, it was nice somebody had my back.
“Aw. What every girl wants.” I grabbed the can of mace and added it to my collection. “It’s prettier than flowers.”
“Go home, wiseass, and get some sleep.”
Laughing, I waved goodbye. I’d sold my car to pay off my mom’s funeral cost so my legs were my only mode of transportation. To save myself a round of blisters, I changed into a pair of flats. Cold air caressed the top of my bare feet as I stepped outside.
“Why can’t it be summer again?” I mumbled.
A black SUV screeched to a halt alongside the curb. Grabbing the Taser in my pocket, I watched on high alert. Second later, the passenger door opened and opera music cut through the silent night. Andrew’s Italian loafers came into view. He had changed into a casual business shirt with the first button popped open. Grey slacks that matched his eyes hugged his toned thighs. The bastard looked as if he belonged in the pages of a J.Crew magazine.
My hands went to my hips. “Are you serious? Really? I kicked you in the shin and called you an asshole, Andrew. How much clearer can I get?”
“I may be an asshole but I am a gentleman as well.”
“Those two don’t go hand in hand.”
“They do.”
A bone-chilling breeze snaked into my thin coat and I shivered. Noticing, Andrew draped his cashmere jacket over my shoulders, adding another layer of warmth. His generosity didn’t prove anything.
“I’m here to drive you home,” Andrew stated. “I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at two a.m.”
Having two concerned males in my life was a first. “I’m surprised you care. Considering I am underneath your caliber.”
“Those people are not my friends. They are elite members of the art world I have to rub elbows with. Don’t pay them any mind.”
“Don’t slough off the blame entirely on them. You are just as snobby. Maybe even more so because you try to hide it.”
Andrew huffed. “I’m nothing like them.”
“When you saw me in that VIP room, you practically threw up with disappointment.”
He invaded my personal bubble, stealing the air from my lungs. He grabbed the lapels of the coat and tugged me against his body. “You were mistaken. That wasn’t disappointment you saw. It was a desire to protect you from those lecherous men.”
“I’m not one of your projects, Andrew. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was five years old. I don’t need protection.”
His gaze softened. “You’re right, you don’t, but it must be exhausting to always be on guard.”
On guard? Please, that was putting it mildly. I had an impenetrable barbed wire fence wrapped around my heart. The only person that had gotten through was Monica and it took her five years. Nonetheless, my untrusting nature was a second skin. Andrew wasn’t going to change that.
“Like I said, I’m not one of your projects. This is who I am and if you don’t like it, you can get back into your car and drive home to your McMansion.”
Regret soured on the tip of my tongue as Andrew released his clutch on the cashmere coat. An elusive expression flashed over his face. I wished I were somebody different. Somebody who wasn’t hardened by the circumstances handed to me, because then, maybe Andrew and I would have had a fighting chance.
“First of all, I don’t have a McMansion,” Andrew began. “Secondly, your feisty stubbornness is what I find most attractive about you; and thirdly, I don’t want to change a hair on your head. I just want to get to know you. Capisci?”
The earnestness shining in his eyes propelled my chin to dip forward. “Yes.”
“Good.” Andrew set his hand on my lower back and led me to the SUV. “Now let me take you home.”
![Jagged Love _7.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/270570/read/images/_7.jpg)
My apartment building was situated next to a vacant lot where weeds grew as tall as trees and became a homeless camp once darkness descended. A faded orange awning over the front door clung to its rusty hooks.
Andrew peered out of the window. “Is this where you live?”
“Is that fear I hear in your voice?”
Straightening his shoulders, he unlocked the car door and hopped out. Following his lead, I exited the car and stood on the sidewalk next to him. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, unsure on how to end this night. A handshake would be too proper, a kiss on the cheek would be too intimate, and a fist bump would be downright awkward. What was left?
“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” Andrew said.
Punching in the code, the front door buzzed opened. The hallway flickered with two burned out bulbs and a third on its last leg. Shadows danced on the walls.
Compelled to defend the dire state of my building, I spoke. “My landlord left town.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.” Last year’s Christmas lights hung from my door. I smiled at Andrew. “This is it.”
He went in for a hug while I stuck out my hand. We laughed awkwardly while another attempt proved to be just as unsuccessful.