Bubble Wrap

chapter seventeen

"EVERYTHING OKAY?" LUKE asks when I return to his side, leaning into the unused pool table next to him. The warmth of his gaze setting my skin ablaze as I turn to face him.

"Yeah, Zane just got called into work."

He nods. "What does Zane do?"

"He's a paramedic," I say with a smile. "And my personal doctor."

"Are you clumsy, 4A?" he asks with a laugh.

I shrug my shoulders as I look at him. I don't know if clumsy is the right word for what I am, more like hurt by association. "I don't know about that, but we did meet in a hospital."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I broke my ankle at a bar actually," I admit as I look down at my feet. It hadn't been a full break, but a fracture that landed me in a boot for nearly six weeks. "I went to the emergency room by myself and Zane was there dropping off a patient. The ER was overcrowded, as usual, so I was in a hospital bed in the hallway and he stayed with me."

"You were by yourself?"

I laugh. "You have met Charlie, right?"

"He seriously let you go to the hospital by yourself with a broken ankle?"

Suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze, I stand and turn to the empty pool table. "You want to play a round?" I ask, hoping the distraction will be enough to get the topic off me.

I should have left Charlie the second he let me go to the hospital on my own, the accident in the bar being his fault, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't as strong as I am now, and maybe it took longer than it should have, but eventually I found my strength. Strength I made a promise to myself never to lose again.

"That depends," Luke says as he rounds the table, setting his beer on the edge of the nearby table before grabbing two cue sticks. "Are you prepared to lose?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," I say as I rest my coat on the stool and set my beer down next to his. "There's one thing you need to know about me. I'm crazy competitive."

"I believe you," he says with a smile as he extends a cue out to me. "I'm up for the challenge, but I have to warn you. I spend more time in this bar than I do my apartment, so I'm kind of a master."

"Bring it on, rockstar," I tell him as he leans across the table to set up the balls. "I'll let you break."

"You will, huh?" he hums as he gets into position, lining up his shot. When he pulls back, throwing momentum into the white ball it hits the rack with a loud crack and scatters the balls across the table. The nine ball falling into the corner pocket, determining our games.

"Very nice."

"Easily impressed?" he questions as he lines up his next short. "Fifteen ball, corner pocket," he says, calling out his next shot as I walk the length of the table and scout out his shot.

Pausing briefly before the pocket, I rest my elbow against the table as I rest my chin in the palm of my hand. "Are you sure? Seems kind of tricky."

He narrows his eyes, watching me carefully before effortlessly sinking the shot. "You know, you have a look of your own," he says as he straightens.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

He wags his finger at me. "That stupid cute smile on your face," he tells me. "You can't look at me like that, 4A."

"Why not?"

He lifts a brow as he looks me over. "It makes me want to do things to you, 4A."

I hum softly as I walk around the table, inching close to him with each step. "I'm intrigued," I tell him, leaning my head back to meet his eyes. "What kinds of things?"