Page 22 of Ruin Me Gently

No. I knew I hadn’t.

She stared at me, waiting, expecting an answer.

The words were right there, waiting to tumble out.

‘You were about to get mowed down by some idiot on a bike and I may or may not have saved your life. You’re welcome.’

But they wouldn’t come. They stayed tangled in my throat.

Someone jostled my shoulder as they passed, snapping me out of my frozen state, and before I could think better of it, I gently moved us out of the flow of foot traffic. I could see every tiny detail of her face. The silver swirls in her eyes. The faint crease in her forehead from frowning too hard.

“Well? Are you going to explain, or do I start assuming the worst?” she asked.

My brain had hit the eject button and left me to fend for myself saying, ‘Good luck, buddy. You’re on your own.’So I just stood there, a wall of awkward silence, staring at her like an absolute idiot.

“Seriously?” she asked, voice tinged with exhaustion. “What, did the cat get your tongue when you decided to ambush me?”

Yeah, that’s exactly what this was. Itdefinitelyhad nothing to do with her eyes scorching a hole straight through the visible part of my face, or the fact that my hand still tingled from touching her.

Nope. Definitely just a sudden, totally normal case of temporary muteness. Happens to the best of us.

She let out an exasperated breath, like she was searching for someone to share in her irritation.

And what was the genius thing I managed to do?

I just pointed over my shoulder like some kind of malfunctioning robot and muttered, “Bike.”

That was it. Not an explanation. Not an actual sentence. Just…‘Bike.’

“Bike?” she repeated.

I nodded. Because that’s all I was now capable of—one-word answers and nonverbal confirmation.

Great. Really stellar performance, Silas.

Her eyebrows stayed raised for a beat, like she was waiting for me to elaborate. I didn’t.

“You know what? Whatever,” she snapped. “I’ve got better things to do, better places to be, and lunch that isn’t going to eat itself.”

She turned on her heel, leaving me stood there like a complete moron, watching her retreating figure as my brain finally decided to reconnect with my body, too late to be useful.

I had to be more careful. But I couldn’tnothave done that. She could have been hit. Seriously injured. Worse…

No. She was fine.

I’d helped. And she was fine.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Fuck, I was tired.

Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix. Not the kind that strong coffee and a day off could touch. This was bone-deep, settled into me like an old tenant refusing to pack their stuff and move out.

I hadn’t physically exerted myself, but I felt like I’d run a marathon.

Curling deeper into the corner of the couch, I pulled the blanket tighter around my legs, the soft hum of the TV barely registering as background noise.

“You could at least pretend to care,” I muttered, glancing over to Katniss who was sprawled beneath her heat lamp.

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