Lost Stars (The Jewel Project #3)

16.1|| It Takes Two

Angie stayed quiet for the rest of the way to the motel, her face buried in Tom's chest. At first, she'd been a little worried, but he obviously understood the gravity of the situation because he walked at a brisk pace, changing direction ever so often, and kept looking back.

She'd been stupid to doubt him, to get annoyed at him for following her, for thinking it was best for him to stay out of it. Even if his brain couldn't remember anything, his body obviously could. Skateboarding, dancing, the balance, fighting. Her. She'd opened her mouth a few times to ask why he'd wanted to talk to her, but closed it. Better let him focus on their safety.

Her knee really hurt, as did her ribs from the one hit she'd received. She'd been so stupid to make the folder her priority, though she was certain she would have had trouble with two alert men either way. At least she still had it, clutched against her chest. She needed more training. What with moving to Chicago and getting ready for school, she'd totally slacked off. Tom obviously hadn't.

They finally reached the motel and Tom went around the back, through the parking lot and up the stairs to his room. Still holding her, he managed to pull the key out of his back pocket and unlock the door. The heat and humidity inside hit her; how could it be worse than outside?

He didn't falter, but lay her on the bed gently. She opened her mouth to argue that he should take her to her room, but clamped it shut. Did she really want to be by herself? Nope, she wanted to be with him.

"So..." she started as Tom fluffed her pillow and raised her against the headboard. She winced once she bent her knee out of reflex to push herself higher. "Um, what did you want to talk to me about?" Her voice came out incredibly strained, but that crash against the wall had left her entire body sore.

Tom didn't answer. He sat down on the bed next to her and started inspecting her sheets.

"These look dirty."

"I guess..." Why were they discussing sheets again?

With a sigh, he got back to his feet. "I'll just be a minute." And he just walked out on her.

Angie blinked at the door, trying to get her head on straight. Tom seemed... odd. Focused, in control. Not exactly like old Tom who was a lot more the shrug-it-off type, but not like the new hesitant one either. She liked this Tom. Liked him a lot. So much that the room suddenly seemed too hot to handle.

Ugh, she totally should be focusing on more relevant stuff. Like Snitch Gravel's men being around, the attack, her injuries. But apart from the knee which was a bloody problem, the rest seemed to be just general soreness. There was no way she could've broken something and she hadn't hit her head precisely because she'd stuck her knee out when they'd shoved her at the wall.

She pondered on the rush and unrest she felt. Yes, she'd had adrenaline pumping, but it had faded on the way back. Why was she so giddy? So nervous?

Her question was answered when too-hot-to-handle Tom walked back in carrying a bottle of water, a bottle of ethylic alcohol, and what looked like sterile bandages. She was nervous because of him, because of what he had to say to her.

He sat back on the bed, serious and quiet, so unlike Tom, but yet so like him. It felt organic the way he moved, uncapping the bottles, opening the bandages. She sucked air through her teeth when he poured water on her knee.

"Try to hold still," he said quietly. He then gently padded at it with the strip of bandage.

Angie curled her fingers around his sheets, her entire body tense. It really stung, and him putting alcohol on it would hurt even more. It was so stupid, it was just a scrape. Tom looked from her face to her hands, and a muscle in his jaw twitched as though he were uncomfortable or worried.