Page 20 of The Gift
Of course,theyread everything wrongly, springing into action. Heroic action too.
“She has a fever, Koda. Make sure she’s got…” Ashton adds, and I seriously get a sore neck trying to keep up with everything going on. One part of me wants to run, the other I thought I had locked away yells from somewhere deep inside me, ‘yes save me, carry me away’.
Logic seeps through my addled thoughts, or it might be plain old perseverance. I go to argue, and Koda flicks his head out the door and holds his hand out, shepherding me away. And I fucking go! Like, excuse me!
I think he kind of sees the point where I realise I was railroaded because he steps up close, like way past appropriate close, and his voice rumbles in my ear encouragingly. And because I’m focusing on the sounds he’s making, and the way I’m feeling, I miss the exact wording but catch the sentiment. Of course, I blush as I preen under his mumbled praise.
I swing around searching for answers and find Koda, aka my walking door, looking straight ahead like there’s nothing at all going on.
“Bailey.” Finally a sense of reason, and Terry, one of the marketing execs calls out as we’re about to push the button for the lift.
I take a step towards him. He is stable, reliable, boring as all crap, but right now that works for me. I smile so wide my cheeks hurt and happily my voice comes out breathlessly, “Yeah?”
Terry wimps out on me, his feet slowing as his eyes flick behind me.
“Hey, I heard you were on leave for a few days. I won’t see you until you get back. Hope it goes well.” He takes a small step closer, although he’s acting overly cautious now. A second ago, he was enthusiastic and now he’s being… weird. His eyes flick over my shoulder repeatedly and he looks nervous. I keep my nose to myself this time, so I can’t scent if he’s really nervous.
Koda puts an inked hand between us. And Jesus is it a beautiful hand! Like seriously, it’s like the size of a George Foreman frypan and those fucking intricate interloping lines and symbols have me panting like a dog in heat.
“She’s got germs,” he barks at Terry, halting him in his tracks and stopping my wandering thoughts too.
“No way! Thanks man. I can’t afford to get sick. Wow, Bailey, I didn’t realise you’re contagious, air hug, babe. Actually, you do look like crap. I’ll call and we can go out for dinner or a drink when you’re better,” he takes one of those massive steps backwards, grimacing and bitching the whole time.
“What is going on right now?” I throw my hands up, a little delighted when my bag crashes into Koda’s side.
Of course, the lift arrives and Koda directs me into it. Bullied me into it. I argue while the voice of reason asks where he raised his voice, where he laid a hand on me. Nope, I did that. I let him steer me out of work, out of the damn station like my name is Thomas and he’s the Conductor.
“And you’re not worried about getting my ‘germs’?” I round on him, argument in every flick of my chin.
He shrugs but doesn’t answer, instead watching the numbers on the display panel count as we drop down floors to the underground parking level. I spend the whole time running through everything going on, coming up with nothing. Yeah, not a great response at all.
“I parked my truck over there.”
“This really is overkill,” I say. Of course, that’s the time my head spins again. It could be in panic; it could be the flu but I’m pretty sure it’s neither of those things.
“Be that as it may, Bailey, but Ashton asked me to do something and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“No regard for me?” I ask, pulling my hair to a low ponytail, hoping it helps cool me off.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure all this is because of everyone’s regard for you.” He pulls a pair of dark sunglasses on and despite my very confused, outer exterior a part of me mushes inappropriately. He’s stunning.
Koda
She’s sick. A lot sicker than she let on. In the car ride over to her apartment she slumps over in the back seat, hugging that atrocious blue bag of hers and using it as a pillow.
Pulling up to her apartment, I want to carry her in and put her to bed, but it’s not my place and despite how hard she tries to hide it, Bailey has shadows in her eyes that I refuse to add to.
Leaving the car running, the radio on softly and the heater going, because even asleep it’s like she’s too skittish and aware, I climb out my truck. And today’s the day I’m thankful for the extra cash we splashed on the upgrades to our pack vehicles because the sound of the door closing doesn’t wake her. She doesn’t move at all.
Ash picks up on the first ring.
“Sorry, I couldn’t take your call,” I speak quickly, quieter than usual, before he tries to chew me out for not picking up.
“What happened?”
“Bailey’s asleep in my truck, Ash.”
“What do you mean?”
