The wind sweeps up the street and blows my hair around behind me. I contemplate putting it up in a ponytail, but I want to look nice for this first date. A guy shouldn't see me in sweats with my hair pulled back until at least date five. If he has potential, maybe date ten.Hair whips around my face again and I reach back with both hands to tame it, holding on to the ends. It's cold in San Francisco and, while I'll never admit this to Aspen, it might be time to upgrade my winter jacket from the thick black fleece I have on today. I'd rather not walk around ready to go on an Artic expedition like Pen, but a little more warmth wouldn't hurt. I'm a southern California girl, even if I've been here almost five years now.I jump a few times and stomp my feet in a half attempt to warm them up. If my date isn't here in five minutes, I'll leave the sidewalk to wait for him inside. In order to make it here on time, I left right from work and my thin black pants offer little protection agains
One hundred and ten minutes of blood, guts, and gun fights later my torture came to an end when the final credits rolled. The only plus for the movie? Repeated gunfire helped silence Chompy McChompson although I could have done without his repeated attempts to push his spittle drink on me.I caught a cab out of there as fast as possible thanks to Aspen's rescue text. With the sweetest smile I could muster, I explained to James how I had to get home to feed Aspen's new cat Mittens. There's no cat, but James graciously accepted my best friend as an irresponsible pet owner. Now I have to cross my fingers he never asks Aspen's sister-in-law about her grey tabby.My calves burn by the time I hit the fourth-floor stairwell and enter the code to open the door to my hallway. It's a few short steps to my wooden apartment door and I let out a sigh when I spot the bright yellow Post-it note stuck to the middle of it. What could it be now?I stop in front of my door not touching the note, bu
Grey walls. Grey carpet. Grey desk top. Everywhere I look in my office there's grey. Well it's not so much an office as a cubical. Okay fine, it's a cubical. Why are cubical farms so gloomy? If they force employees to work on Saturdays, the least they could do is add a little color. It's depressing.The single highlight of my day thus far came from panicky texts from Aspen over Finn's talk of marriage. My bestie's so far gone for her gamer boyfriend I can't figure out why she fights it so hard. If I had a loyal and loving guy like Finn wrapped around my finger, I'd do whatever it took to keep him there forever. If my past taught me anything it's to grab on to a good one and never take him for granted."Marissa, do you have last month's figures for the Cline account?" Scott, another marketing assistant questions from his cubical three down and one over from mine.I stand with the forms and turn in his direction. "Yeah, they're right here. I'm done if you need them."The sheets a
I push twenty dollars through the plastic divider between the front and back of the cab, anxious to breathe air that doesn't stink of cabbage."No change," I say as I throw open the cab door.My hand catches the crutch tucked under my arm and it swings back almost hitting me in the face. I avoid the black eye from that attempt, but navigating around with these wooden legs will be harder than I thought. I've never had crutches before, and I found the three-minute tutorial my nurse gave lacking in a few major details. Like how the hell to walk with them."Do you need help, Miss?" the cabbie asks, but doesn't leave his seat.I wrap my purse with my shoe in it around my shoulder and stick the bottoms of both crutches on the ground outside the cab. "Nope. I'm good. Thanks." With one large push-pull move on the crutches, I clear the cab and fumble with them on the sidewalk for a minute. Somehow I manage to keep my wrapped foot off the dirty ground.The six tiny steps to the front d
I grunt at him but try to follow his quick directions. It's as helpful as the nurse while she adjusted the crutches."Have you never had crutches before?" This question annoys me more than the first and I visualize hitting him in the head with one. But I worry I'd fall over and hurt myself more."No. I'm normally a coordinated person. I've never needed them before.""Let me help." He slides into the spot next to me and takes each crutch while wrapping an arm around my waist.I want to complain, but I'm missing a leg to stand on. Literally. As much as I hate to admit it, I need this man's help.We make it to the elevator faster than I ever could have on my own, and Ryland uses the bottom of a crutch to open the elevator door. As we wait for the ride to start, he readjusts his arm moving it further down causing him to lean over me.He grips tighter and puts the crutches at an angle to better carry us both. "My God you're short."He's so full of compliments. "I'm average. Yo
Objects in the room come into focus as I open my eyes, but my dream lingers right on the edge of my consciousness. The image of Ryland's flexed muscles as he carried me up four flights of stairs last night fades as I wake up more.I'm groggy from the remnants of the pain pill, but I definitely remember Ryland didn't carry me up any stairs. There were no muscles involved. There's no reason for me to be dreaming about such ridiculous crap.Glass clatters around in my kitchen and I tense up on high alert. Who in the hell is in my place? I try to move my legs off the bed, but they're stiff and my crutches are nowhere to be seen. I'm a sitting duck for whoever's out there mauling through my things."Time to wake up, Marissa."Ryland? Why in the hell is he here?I stay silent and consider the option of pretending I'm asleep. Ryland's head peeks around the bedroom door before I have time to adjust myself back on the bed. His smile falters into a tight-lipped frown."You didn't cha
My mouth falls open at his playful and bossy tone, but it doesn't mess with his smile. The man is unperturbed, which frustrates me. Rather than remind him I'm maimed, I move on to the next pressing topic."What's that?" I point to the table in question.He cocks an eyebrow in my direction and raises a hand like he's about to check for a temperature, but I bat it away. "A coffee table.""I realize it's a coffee table, Ryland. Where did it come from?""First, call me Ry. My mother's the only person who calls me Ryland. Second, I bought the table this morning.""You bought a table this morning?" My wrapped foot rests on the floor, the throbbing pressure increasing by the minute. It must be the reason I'm hearing his answers wrong.He slides the table a few inches closer. "Yeah, I stopped by to wake you up this morning and noticed you didn't have one. I picked it up down the road and they delivered it an hour later."My eyes rise to the ceiling as I work through everything he
He laughs, but it's humorless. "My dad. He didn't want one of my places to sit empty. Kept making suggestions he and my mother could move out here. I needed a renter quickly, but I wanted a nice quiet tenant. The Commandments were my way of ensuring I wouldn't be annoyed in my own home."Now it's my turn to laugh. "A thousand bucks for this place in the heart of the city? There isn't a rule alive to keep someone away from a deal like this. People would sign over their first born to live here.""Yeah, I figured out my mistake when the real-estate company called with an agreement within an hour of its listing.""Did it work?""Finding a tenant that doesn't annoy me?" He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in complete dispassion. "No.""Trust me. You're a real peach to live with too." The insult slips out and I immediately feel bad. He brought me breakfast...... and a coffee table. I look up to offer an apology, but catch Ryland suppressing a tiny grin. He's not ups
Six months later"I thought you were painting this room silver?" Hudson asks dropping his half of the couch inside of our brand-new tiny living room. That's not fair. It's bigger than the apartment when I lived with Marissa. Living here will be like me having my own special mansion. Except this time the rent is higher.I put my end of the couch down and then promptly sit at the end of it. I've done my part of moving. This is why we hired movers. I don't know what it is about men wanting to lift heavy objects. Plus, it's not like there's much furniture to move. The old apartment came furnished. This stuff is new.I look at the wall, which shimmers in the bright light from our large open window in the new living room. "I did. It's Silver Fox.""This color is gray.""No, it's Silver Fox.""It looks gray to me."I shake my head in dismay. "Gray is darker."He nods slowly. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say."Hudson and I have been living together since he made the permanent move t
A few weeks later"Wow, Finn hooked you up." My eyes blink a few times trying to adjust to the overpowering glare of so many television screens in one room.Hudson laughs as he steps behind me. "Ridge taught me you can never have too many cameras.""Well, you definitely put his words into practice." No less than thirty flat screen TVs line a wall in the room Finn and Hudson started calling the war room. I'm pretty sure Finn has a camera everywhere Aspen may go in San Francisco. There is even one in the comic shop. The transition has gone well for the most part. Finn and Aspen had a heated debate over her bodyguard situation.Once Hudson accepted the position, he didn't waste time. It's been less than three weeks and he has a war room set up and is spying on half the residents of the city. My man gets shit done."Are you happy?" I ask turning around so we are face to face.Hudson rolls his eyes and says something silently to the ceiling of the room. He's recently taken up pr
The glass automatic door at the airport entrance slides open and I saunter in with a purpose. No woman has ever been as determined as I am to put a man in his place. Full Marissa style.And then maybe win him back. It depends on his response. I've been through tons of shit the last few weeks. I need someone who can handle me and won't chicken out.Aspen and Finn checked me out of the hospital and then took me back to my apartment making me promise I wouldn't leave when I asked to be alone. My mother even listened when I told her it was a great time to visit my brother in Washington. He'll love it.Besides my shattered heart, I'm medically fine. There's no reason for people to be stuck hovering around me. Hurt or not, I've still peopled too much these last few days, so it wasn't hard to press that I needed quiet time. I promised to head right into bed and sleep for a few more days.But I've broken many promises lately. And kept secrets. I am not the same girl I was last year. An
I hate to be a bad friend — who am I kidding, I'm always the bad friend — but Aspen could not have picked a worse time to make her visit. And I love her. She was here all day yesterday. Getting water, refilling water, fluffing my pillow and accidentally pulling on my IV before doing it again while apologizing for pulling on the IV. Hudson and I haven't had two minutes to ourselves. I tried to fake sleep yesterday afternoon, but then they stood around the bed looking and me and whispering."Do you need your pillow fluffed?" she asks for the thousandth time. It's become her filler question. What she asks me if she doesn't know what else to ask.I shake my head, giving Finn my best "calm her down" look, but he doesn't notice. He's so madly in love with Aspen he thinks everything she does is adorable. "I'm fine, Aspen. Relax."My best friend is definitely more put together than Hudson in the last two days, but not by much. Her hair is flat on one side, a little curly on the other, an
A STEADY STREAM of beeps wakes me up to a stream of light.A hospital. It's the place I've woken up the last two days. I can't complain. It's one hundred times better than a concrete floor in an abandoned factory in Oakland. Even still I fight the panic as my brain comes into consciousness. The hospital therapist says eventually there will come a day when I don't wake up ready to flee, but I'm not sure I believe her.My awake body is heavy and sluggish. Yesterday I spent most the day sleeping as my conscious mind worked around what happened after I was taken from the sidewalk in front of Cosmo's.Hudson was shot. I watched it with my own eyes. What I didn't know at the time was the bullet grazed the side of his body and most of his injury was due to the shock of being shot. Even though my mind didn't want to believe it at the time, he led the charge to rescue me. And yes, he absolutely shot Jimmy in the head — a scene I never ever want to see again, but one that plays on repeat e
Breathe. I hit reality with a start. Tears form as I blink my eyes to open them. My shoulder hurts, a tingling stiff sensation like I slept on it wrong. At one point I must have broken out in a cold sweat and my skin is clammy, moist yet chilled. My knuckle scrapes the hard ground underneath my body as I sit up and the events of what happened flood back. It wasn't a bad dream. I've been taken right from the front of Cosmo's. Kidnapped.They shot Hudson.I have no idea how long I slept or where I am. No longer in the van, the room is dark around me and it takes longer than I want for my eyes to adjust. Of course, there's no positive to be found when they do. Sawdust and dirt smells permeate the air. On the ground there's not only cold hard concrete but sharp pieces of wood. I wipe a few from my pants legs only to have them stick to the skin of my fingers.As I try to stand, there's a clink of metal. I tug my foot to find it doesn't move. My leg is bolted to the ground with thick m
"Are you sure you won't walk in there and start crying?" Hudson asks as we stop in front of Cosmo's Comics and Café.I take a deep breath and check myself before I answer because frankly he's probably right to be worried. It's been two days since we met with Drew at the restaurant in Oakland and I spent most of that night crying. I haven't talked to anyone since then. More than likely they think I've been taking this time to apologize to Hudson. He promises he's forgiven and forgotten and even understands why it took so long.Hudson spent the last few days consoling me as I came to terms with finally admitting what happened that night and saying goodbye to Drew if only in my own mind. He's been perfect. He didn't push or yell at me to do it faster or tell me I was being ridiculous. He listened and held me when I needed him. I couldn't ask for a better man.Hudson is everything I've ever wanted in a guy. Sensitive enough to figure out when I'm hurting, but strong enough to tell me
"That's your answer?" Hudson's eyebrows lift.I hit my knee against his. "Hudson."He sighs in agitation."Well, Drew, the way I look at it Amanda doesn't have much to tell. It sounds to me as if in her story you were a friend who was there to help her out. Who didn't want to get involved in a police investigation. But before I can trust her opinion that you're a nice guy, I need proof."Drew laughs even though it's inappropriate for the time. "I don't think I'm a nice guy, but thanks, Amanda.""Um, you're welcome?""I started working construction jobs part time when Clare and I were in foster care." He stops talking right as the story gets good."But you don't do construction work now, do you?" Hudson asks the exact question I've been thinking.It's like pulling teeth to get facts out of Drew, but what he doesn't understand is Hudson will have no qualms telling Ben if he's not satisfied with his answers."Yes and no. From time to time my boss asks me for extra favors
"Sorry, Dean, I've got to get home. Lots of Christmas prep to do."There's no time to chase another raid with so much work to do for Aspen's Christmas celebration. They overdo it for most holidays, but the big ones are the worst.He nods, accepting the answer. I rarely take him up on offers for more raiding or the hundred times he's asked me out for coffee. "Okay, see you next time." He waves, following a large group of people making their way to cars and bikes before heading toward the wharf.I step onto the sidewalk outside the baseball stadium to look for a cab. The road is eerily quiet since there isn't baseball in December and the people from the raid snatched up the cabs. Even though Grant, Clare's boyfriend would kill me, I scroll through my phone and find the Uber app. If I have to call for a ride anyway, I should at least make it a cheap one. He'd be pissed over how close I am to his neighborhood without someone here with me, but it's too late to worry about that now.