Fighting for Everything, Page 4

  “Good.” Kristina made for the steps. “Then move your ass, Cortez. Because Mama needs a bacon cheeseburger. Stat.”

  “Hungry?” Noah asked as Kristina polished off her burger. The meal had been filled with small talk about her day, the summer workshops she’d be teaching, and Josh’s wedding plans, and even a little of their normal banter. Her apparent willingness to stick to comfortable subjects allowed him to relax.

  She scowled at him as she took a drink of her soda. “You know, you’re not funny.” She eyed his food. “You going to finish those—”

  He pushed the rest of his fries toward her, earning a big smile. Noah wasn’t sure he’d ever finished all of his own French fries in Kristina Moore’s presence. Not that he minded. “Ice cream?” he asked when she was done.

  “Hells yeah,” Kristina said. “How can you have Seven Guys without Ben and Jerry?”

  “You can’t. Obviously,” he said, carrying their tray to the garbage can. Noah could still picture Kristina sitting in the Ben & Jerry’s shop explaining what Seven Guys was when she’d been maybe sixteen or seventeen. Sixteen, probably, since it was the summer before he left for college. Kristina’s hair had been in a high ponytail and she’d had on a pale blue tank top and the necklace he’d bought her for her sixteenth birthday. It had “Best Friend” etched into a heart that hung through one of the loops of an infinity charm. She’d gotten chocolate-chocolate-chip ice cream and had smacked him on the arm for not telling her she had a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. God, he could picture her as clearly as if he were remembering yesterday.

  “Precisely,” she said, opening the door onto the busy street.

  Noah followed her out and tried really damn hard not to study the way the short skirt she wore hugged her heart-shaped ass. The ass he’d held in his hands when he’d—

  “You game to walk down?” she asked, turning to him.

  His eyes snapped to her face. “Yeah, sure.” He fell in beside her, putting his good ear closest to her as they started down King Street into the red-brick charm of the heart of Old Town. “Do you still have that necklace I gave you when you turned sixteen?”

  Kristina’s smile was immediate. “Of course. What made you think of that?”

  Shrugging, Noah looked straight ahead as they crossed a street. He wasn’t sure what had resurrected the memory, all he knew was that Kristina had been on his mind non-stop all week. Ever since he’d held her, kissed her, felt all her soft curves sprawled beneath him. She’d felt so right there, so good. And then he’d ruined it when the damn fireworks went off.

  Then again, maybe he hadn’t ruined anything. Maybe he’d saved them by getting knocked on his ass before burying himself deep inside her and changing their relationship forever.

  Because that’s where they’d been heading.

  Problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened if he’d had just a little more time with her… And his body was strung tight imagining it. So tight that he was glad she hadn’t let herself into his bathroom while he’d been showering, or she might’ve heard him groaning her name as he stroked himself to orgasm. Like a damn teenager. It hadn’t been the first time this week either.

  “Oh, I meant to ask you the other day. I replaced my desk last summer, but I kept the old one. It’s pretty plain, just oak. Need it for your new place?” Kristina asked.

  “At this rate, all of you are going to save me from furniture shopping at all. Mom gave me the furniture downstairs. Josh and Maria are giving me their kitchen table so they have room for a new one, and now this.”

  “Is that a yes?” she asked, eyebrow arched.

  Noah rolled his eyes. He’d given up on fighting everyone’s desire to help him. His discomfort with it had more to do with his own bullshit anyway. “Sure.”

  “Good. Besides, no furniture shopping means you should be a very, very happy man,” she said, chuckling.

  “Yeah, I should,” he said. The words hung heavily in the air, fraught with additional meaning he hadn’t meant to give them. “I, uh, could come by Saturday and grab it. I’ll have the truck all day.”

  “Okay,” she said. “What else do you still need? Do you have kitchen stuff? Plates, cups, spatulas…?”

  “Spatulas? How much cooking do you think I plan to do?”

  “Dude, if spatulas are your threshold for cooking, I’m guessing not much.” She bumped into his side and smirked.

  Noah gave a small smile and shook his head. “Fine. I guess I need a spatula. I can cook eggs, after all.”

  “Aw, look at you go.” Kristina winked at him, and her playfulness made him feel lighter than he had in months. He missed this. Maybe he’d been wrong to stay away from her, especially now that she’d seen him at his worst. “So, whenever you’re done Saturday, come grab me and my desk, and then we’ll go shopping for house stuff.”

  “Ooh, sounds thrilling.” He gave her a droll stare and tried not to react to the idea of grabbing her.

  She laughed, infusing him with more of that lightness. “Don’t be such a boy. Anyway, if anyone can make house stuff thrilling, it’s me, baby.”

  Of that, he had no doubt. Kristina had a knack for making the mundane and everyday special and fun.

  He wanted this—her—back in his life.

  Which meant, somehow, he needed to put Kristina back in the strictly friends box.

  Having lost so much over the past months, he knew he couldn’t stomach one more loss. Especially not of his best friend. And though she didn’t seem to be acting differently toward him, he was looking differently at her. Noticing her ass, the curve of her calf in the sling-back heels, all that soft, soft hair flowing around her shoulders in the early summer breeze.

  Noah had always thought Kristina was pretty, and had routinely told her when he didn’t think a guy was good enough for her. Because she deserved the best. But he’d never before been distracted by her looks or sexually attracted to her, and now that he’d touched her, some part of him didn’t want to stop.

  But it had to stop.

  They paused at an intersection and waited for the light, then started across.

  Tires screeched. A horn blared. And Noah turned just in time to see a car barreling straight for them.

  Chapter Five

  Noah grabbed Kristina by the shoulders and hauled her back as an asshole left turner careened by, yelling at them out his window. The car had passed so close that Noah didn’t know how it’d missed her.

  “Oh, my God,” Kristina said in a breathless, shaky voice. She turned the rest of the way into his chest, and her being against him was the only thing that kept him from barreling down the street after the sonofabitch. “He would’ve run me over if it weren’t for you.”

  Heat shot through Noah’s veins, equal parts adrenaline and rage. And damn his imperfect vision, because he hadn’t been able to catch the license plate. But Kristina was all that mattered.

  “Come on,” he said, keeping her tucked tight against his chest and guiding her the rest of the way across. Her pulse was racing so hard he could feel it beating beneath her warm skin.

  “You all okay?” an older woman asked.

  Noah scanned around them enough to see that more than a few people had witnessed what’d happened. He nodded to the lady. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for asking.” She gave them a worried smile and continued down the sidewalk.

  “I’m okay,” Kristina said, her voice shaky.

  “I know, but come over here for a minute,” he said. “I’ve got you.” He pulled her behind the column of an office building, wanting to give her a little privacy to react to what’d just happened. No doubt her adrenaline was pumping as much as his, and maybe more, and he knew exactly how the let-down of all those chemicals could screw with your emotions.

  She held up her right hand, the back of which was swelling and promised to bruise. A cut marred one busted knuckle. “We match now,” she said in a strained voice.

  “Fuck,” Noah said, seething. �
�Fuck. I didn’t realize he clipped you. Can you make a fist?”

  Hand visibly shaking, she curled her fingers and hissed. “Yeah. It hurts, but I think I can. Can you just…would you just…hold me?”

  She didn’t have to ask, because just then, he wanted nothing more.

  Careful of her hand, Noah hugged her tight against his chest and breathed in her trademark vanilla cream scent. Goddamn that asshole. Fantasies ran through his mind. Of seeing that car again. Pulling the sack of shit out through his window. Introducing the guy’s head to the front grill to see how he liked it. Repeatedly.

  “I’m okay,” Kristina whispered after a few minutes. “Just shaking. I’ll be okay.”

  “Of course you will. Just take a minute, then we’ll get you cleaned up.” Truth be told, Noah wasn’t in any rush for her to move. Because that bullshit had rattled him. Five years in the military had taught him that it was always worse to see a buddy hurt or even in harm’s way than to find yourself there. And the same had been true just then. This could’ve been so much worse…

  No. He wasn’t even letting himself imagine.

  After a long moment, she lifted her head and looked up at him with wet eyelashes that just about broke his fucking heart. “If you hadn’t pulled me out of the way, I would’ve really been hurt.”

  Noah thumbed away the wetness below her eyes. “I didn’t react fast enough,” he said, gently cupping her hand where it rested on his chest. Hell, if the car had come at them from the left side, he might not have reacted at all. A thought that did absolutely nothing to help the anger and frustration roaring through him.

  “Stop that. You did too.” Her expression was earnest and so damn vulnerable.

  Heaving a breath, Noah eyed the bruises blooming on her knuckles. “We should take you to the ER.”

  “What? No way. I don’t need all that. It’s just some bruises.” She blinked the tears away, visibly pulling herself together as he watched.

  “Kristina—”

  “Noah, really. I’d go if I thought I needed to. Would you go?” She arched a brow.

  He thought about lying, but she knew the truth. “Okay, but I’m a stubborn asshole.”

  Her laughter melted away some of the anger inside of him. “Can I quote you on that?” She nudged him.

  He sighed, but he wasn’t feeling playful about her having gotten hurt. “Fine, but we’re at least getting you some ice,” Noah said as he slipped the beat-up fingers of his right hand into the uninjured fingers on her left. Just a few doors down the street, they ducked into a fast-food restaurant. At the counter, Noah pointed to Kristina’s hand and said, “My friend was just hit by a car. Would you be able to give us a bag of ice?”

  Overhearing his question, an older man came up to the counter from the back of the restaurant. “I’m the manager here, and I’m happy to help. Do you need some bandages? I have a first-aid kit.”

  Noah nodded. “We’d really appreciate that.” He squeezed Kristina’s hand, not caring at all about the ache doing so set off in his own.

  The man led them to a tiny office with a desk, file cabinet, and two chairs. He pulled the red and white kit out of a drawer and opened it on the desk. “I’ll go get some ice.”

  “Thank you,” Kristina said. She blew out a still-shaky breath and sank into a chair.

  Noah sorted through the kit and pulled out an antiseptic wipe, some antibiotic ointment, and a few bandages that looked like they might be the right size. “This might sting a little,” he said, holding the wipe over her hand.

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  Nodding, he wiped at the bloody cut on her knuckle. A flash of the gunshot wound through Kendrick’s hand. Noah frowned and blinked the image away. When that cut was clean, he moved to a smaller one he hadn’t seen on the outside of her pinkie. A little trickle blood lined her whole finger. Stein’s severed leg, the result of a landmine.

  Noah gritted his teeth. What the hell? Now the simple sight of a little blood was gonna fuck with his head? “You okay?” he bit out more harshly than he intended.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Are you?”

  “I’m pissed off.” He heaved a breath and worked to box up his bullshit.

  “Me, too. I haven’t had my Ben & Jerry’s yet. It’s a travesty of justice to get between a woman and her chocolate.”

  Noah smirked at her and applied the ointment, though talking seemed to have blocked out the surfacing of anymore memories. And damn if he didn’t get the feeling that she was trying to make him feel better.

  The manager returned with the ice and settled the bag on the desk. “Can I get you anything else? Should I call an ambulance?”

  “No. Thank you, sir,” Kristina said. “I think it’s just bruised, but I’ll keep an eye on it. I really appreciate your helping me, though.”

  “Of course. With all the pedestrians, you’d think people would drive more carefully down here,” he said, shaking his head and watching Noah over his shoulder. The man was perfectly harmless and obviously a good person, but Noah’s instincts did not love the guy hovering on his six. At all.

  “Do you have a business card?” Kristina asked as Noah wrapped bandages around her hand. “I’d like to send a letter of appreciation.”

  The man pulled a card from his wallet. “I appreciate the thought, miss, but that really isn’t necessary.”

  “Not everyone would’ve been this kind, Mr. Johnson,” she said, glancing at the card.

  He gave a nod. “Just leave the kit here when you’re done. I’ll put it away later.” He left again.

  “All done,” Noah said. He gently applied tape to hold the bandage in place, but with the way the back of her hand was swelling, there wasn’t any safe place to press. Sonofabitch. He couldn’t believe this had happened to her. And on his watch.

  “You’re taking really good care of me, Noah. Thank you.”

  “I will always take care of you,” he bit out. And then he realized what he said, and just how vehemently he’d said it. And damn if it hadn’t sounded a whole lot more than friendly. He chanced a glance at Kristina, and it was clear that she’d registered something in his tone, too. He threw away the trash and sat against the edge of the desk. “Why don’t you sit with the ice for a few minutes?”

  Kristina rose and stood right in front of him, her pretty eyes even with his given how he was leaning. “I don’t need to sit,” she said in a low voice, her gaze boring into his.

  “Well, I need you to sit. So sit.”

  Her eyebrow went up. Just the one.

  Under other circumstances it might’ve made him laugh. Could she ever just fucking listen to him? But he was wound so tight over witnessing her getting hurt, over the idea that it could’ve been so much worse, over seeing her spilled blood, that it was all he could do not to redecorate Mr. Johnson’s office along the lines of his shower. He was nearly vibrating with pent-up frustration.

  And now Kristina was boxing him in, observing him too closely, not giving him an out.

  “Here’s the part where I’m gonna say ‘thank you,’ and you’re going to say ‘you’re welcome.’ Ready? Thank you for protecting me and taking care of me, Noah.” Her expression was expectant, and not a little amused.

  Something about her playfulness wound him a notch tighter. Because he wasn’t playing. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her full pink lips, and desire sucker-punched him so hard he nearly gasped. “Does your mouth hurt?” he rasped.

  “Why would my—”

  Noah was on her in a flash. Hand cupping the side of her face, arm hauling her tight up against him, mouth claiming hers on a deep, needful, soul-healing kiss. Kristina’s muscles braced in surprise, but then she melted against him, going soft and pliant against all his hardness. And he was hard. So hard, so on edge, so in need of release, that he could’ve spun her around, lifted her onto the desk, and buried himself deep right here and right now.

  He needed to be more gentle with her, but the need roaring through him wouldn’t a
llow him to slow down or back off. And her eager responsiveness didn’t help, either.

  Her good hand fisted in his hair, her mouth sucked maddeningly at his tongue, and her body writhed against his erection. And goddamn the noises she was making, because the desperate moans and little mewls of need were hot as fuck, every one stroking his cock and making him harder.

  Instinct told Noah that Kristina wouldn’t hinder him playing out his little fantasy on the desk.

  Except she was hurt. And they were in a fucking sub shop. Annnd, he couldn’t forget about what was behind door number three—they were supposed to be Just. Friends.

  “Shit,” he rasped. “I did it again.”

  She grasped at his face. “Yes, thank you for that, too. Keep doing it.” Kristina went in for another kiss. This time, her tongue penetrated him, like she wanted to fight him for control. And hell if that didn’t set off all kinds of heat inside him.

  He flipped them around and pinned her to the desk, nearly leaning her backwards over it. The position brought his hard-on flush with that sweet, hot spot between her legs. She cried out and tried to grind against him, but his weight and her skirt kept her pinned tight.

  Hurt. Sub shop. Friends.

  “Shit, wait.” He stepped back, putting space between them. Because he didn’t think he’d have the strength to resist a third time. Especially when she stared at him with such abject fucking need, her cheeks flush with desire, her hair mussed from his hands, her luscious breasts heaving under that clingy V-neck top. “You’re hurt.”

  “And?” Kristina asked.

  Noah glared. “Kristina, I’m kinda on the edge here, if you can’t tell.”

  She slipped up onto the desk and spread her legs, just the little bit the skirt allowed.

  But it was so much like his fucking fantasy that he had to close his eyes. “Get. Down.”

  “Noah—”

  “Please,” he rasped.

  Her heels clicked against the floor.

  Noah chanced a glance. Back on her feet again. “Grab your ice and let’s go. Fucking sub shop.” He left out the door before he changed his mind.