Page 11 of Dueling Flames

“Acetaminophen,” I corrected.

“That.” He nodded. “But my leg feels amazing right now.”

“I bet it does,” Chelsea said. “You’ve had more to drink than the rest of us.”

“Jesus, I need to take you home. Someone help me get him to my car.” I pull cash out of my bag and put it on the table.

“Oh, you wanna take him home?” Jeff asked wiggling his eyebrows at me. “In your car.”

“That’s not the euphemism you think it is.” I stood Thorne up and got him steady on his crutches.

“Sure it is. Car, plus home, plus riding. It all goes together.”

“Euphemism is a fun word to say.” Thorne crutched his way toward the exit with minimal trouble as I ignored Jeff and walked behind Thorne to catch him if he fell.

“Have brunch with us again, Thorne,” Monica said with a wave.

I got Thorne through the door and yelled back, “No mimosas next time.”

By the time we got back to my apartment, Thorne was more tipsy than drunk. He made his way to the bed and laid down with a stupid smile on his face. I leaned in the doorway and watched as he stretched his entire body out. He cried out in pain and stared down at his foot.

“Stupid ankle,” he murmured. His eyes flickered to mine. “Hey pretty lady.” His smile turned soft and sultry, eyes half closed yet focused on me. “Why don’t you come over here for a ride?”

I stared until he snorted and laughed, and I followed suit.

“Does that line ever work?”

“Only when it makes them laugh,” he said and put his arms behind his head. “I wouldn’t even try on someone like you. I know what women like you think about guys like me.” He closed his eyes and relaxed into the bed.

I walked closer. “What do you mean? Women like me and guys like you?”

One eye peeked open, then closed. “Tall women don’t go for short men. Hell, there are a number of short women who don’t go for short men. Like there’s something wrong with me if I can’t reach the top shelf.”

“I never knew you were insecure about your height.”

“Hum. I’m not, but I also know that some people don’t find me attractive for something I can’t change.”

“I’ve dated a few shorter men.” I sat on the end of the bed. “They end up being more insecure about it in the end. One broke up with me because I was still taller when he put lifts in his shoes.”

Thorne chuckled. “That’s crazy.”

I watched his breathing slow. It reminded me of the mornings when I woke up cuddled up next to him. When I first noticed, I backed away, careful not to wake him. I thought it was a one-off. I didn’t particularly care to cuddle. But it kept happening. It felt nice to wake up next to someone, even if it was Thorne. At least he was cute.

Right when I thought he’d gone to sleep, he asked, “What do you like about dating short men?”

I smiled and gave him my go-to answer for this question. I might have dated more than a few short men. “I like that I can throw them around in the bedroom.”

His eyes popped open, and his eyebrows hit his hairline. “Sure you don’t want to go for a ride?”

I slapped his thigh above the boot.

“Ouch. My ankle.” He closed his eyes and grinned. “Want to know what I like about tall women?”

“What?”

“I like that when they wear heels, I can walk up to them and motorboat without bending over.”

“You’re the worst,” I laughed. “Rest up you drunkard. You owe me for those six mimosas.”