Page 60 of Off the Wall

Chapter Twenty-One

Nori

It happened again.

Except this time it was the big mirror in the lobby. I told myself not to look, but my curiosity got the best of me. And sure enough, in the reflection, I saw my arm trailing behind me, my smaller hand clasped in Cash’s giant man paw.

It was just a quick glance, but enough for me to see our fingers entwined. And the weirdest part? I could actually feel the heat of his palm pressed against mine. The roughness. The strength. Just like in the bathroom mirror, I swear we were actually touching.

Even though we weren’t.

I shot a glance over my shoulder to confirm Cash wasn’t even all that close to me. And there was more than a yard of space between us. Still, I wasfeelinghim. Not normal.Sonot normal. Stars swam before my eyes, and the darkness closed in on me.

I’ve never been a fainter before.

I’ve also never been a hallucinator.

And yet.

Cash must’ve seen the blood drain from my face, becausehe caught me as I started to go down. I didn’t fully black out, but I was so woozy, he scooped me up in his arms like a limp rag doll. Now he’s carrying me up the stairs.

And I’m totally letting him.

My arms are draped around his shoulders, one cheek pressed to the jut of his collarbone. At this point, I’m too soaked to be anything but cold. Cash is just as drenched. But somehow, I feel warm with him. Protected. Safe in his arms. For the record, this is a total out-of-body experience. Like, literally. My body’s floating above the ground, being cradled in Cash Briggs’s arms. And the more my brain reminds me I can’t have this man, the more my heart tempts me to crave him. Not to mention all the mirrors. I need to get ahold of myself.

Now.

“I can walk,” I blurt as we reach the second-floor landing. “You don’t have to carry me anymore.”

“I don’t mind,” Cash grunts, launching us up the second flight of stairs. “I don’t want you passing out and falling down these steps.”

“I won’t pass out.”

“You almostdid,” he says. “Two minutes ago."

The man has a point. And anyway, my original offer to walk was half-hearted at best. So I snuggle more deeply into his arms. He adjusts his hold, transporting me like I’m a bride and he’s my groom, about to cross the threshold. When we reach the third floor, Cash covers the short bit of hallway quickly and sets me down on my smiley face welcome mat. He’s out of breath now.

Duh.

Still, as I find my footing, he puts out a steadying hand, his palm covering my shoulder. He’s so gentle, sparks of something warm and safe settle inside me. Then the heat begins to spread. This isnotme getting ahold of myself.

“You want me to come in with you?” he asks. The question is a throaty rasp.

Yes.

“No,” I announce a little too loudly. “Thanks. But I’m fine now.” To prove this is true—to both of us—I rummage through the contents of my purse, pushing aside my phone, two lipsticks, half a pack of gum, a small brush, one claw clip, extra hair ties, my compact, and some crumpled receipts.

I even have a granola bar in there. Just in case.

What Idon’tfind is the familiar jingle of keys to the building, my apartment, and the shop.

“My keys.” I groan. “They aren’t in here.” I flash back to my purse dropping on the ground when I pulled away from Warren. I can practically hear the echo of the stuff clattering out onto the concrete. When Cash shoved everything back in my bag afterward, he must’ve missed the keys. “They’re probably still on the pool deck. Did you see them?”

He shakes his head. “I thought I got everything, but it was pretty dark out there.” He tips his chin. “Maybe they fell under the lounge chair. I’m sorry.”

A shiver runs up my spine. “Not your fault.”

“What about your roommate? Can Hayden let you in?”

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