Page 20 of Puck with Karma
The look of horror on my face must be obvious, and he takes pity on me.
“I’ll take her up, Burt,” he tells the doorman when a delivery truck driver walks in needing signatures for packages delivered.
“Thank you so much, sir,” Burt sighs in relief. With that, he walks away and leaves me with this man who has only been causing me grief from the second we met.
“I d-d-don’t n-n-need h-h-help,” I stutter just as my arms give out and everything falls at his feet.
Xander drops his head to the ground, just staring at everything. He then brings his eyes to me.
“Okey-dokey then. Catch ya later.”
He has the nerve to literally step over my coat and head toward the elevators. I watch him pressing the button to call the car down, never sparing me a glance.
I look back to the messy pile at my feet and finally give in. I refuse to call him back to help me, but I do burst into tears.
“Come on, girl.” A heavy arm drops around my shoulders. “It’s not that bad.” He turns me around and walks me to the elevator.
I cry as we wait for the elevator doors to open. I cry when he walks us in and pushes the button for my floor. I cry some more during our trip up. And I cry when the doors open and he steps out with me.
With a gentle push to the middle of my back, he guides me to the door of the apartment. I am still shivering and crying, and just being a mess overall.
The door closes with a soft click behind me, but I continue keeping my arms crossed and shivering. I need to figure out what the fastest way to warm up is.
Happy that I am finally home, I take a deep breath in and look around. Then look again. I turn in a circle and come face to face with Xander Hamilton.
This is not my apartment.
Chapter 8
Xander
“Take your shoes off,” I bark at the girl when I see that she’s not moving.
She blinks once, twice, then turns around to run. Unfortunately, she is way too close to the door and smacks right into it. When I see that she’s starting to fall back, straight, like a wooden board, I drop the bag with all my gear in it and rush to catch her.
I only manage to grab her by her upper arms. When she about slips out of my grip, I fall to my knees, leaning back, and her head lands in my lap.
When I look down at her face, I see that she already has a bump forming on her forehead.
“What the fuck was that?” I bust out laughing.
It takes her a minute to realize what just happened.
“Oh my god.” She brings a trembling hand to her head. “This is the same spot I hit yesterday.” She touches her forehead and winces in pain. “Now it’s sore again.”
Her eyes move to meet mine right before laughing with me. I lean back until I am flat on the floor, still in my puffy coat and heavy hat over my wet hair. I have this girl whose name I don’t even know, laughing her sore head off while she’s resting it in my lap.
“I’m so cold,” she manages to say in between fits of laughter. “I can’t even move my fingers, and I can’t feel my toes.”
“Jesus.” I push my hat back, then sit up to assess the situation. “We have to warm you up. If you lose a toe or two, you won’t be able to wear fancy little boots like what you got going on there.”
She’s obviously not come prepared for the Minnesota winters. And this is not even that bad what we have going on right now. The windchill is a few degrees below zero, and there’s snow on the ground. But it could be a lot worse. This is balmy.
“Okay, can you sit up? Or should I just drag your body to my bathroom? How do you want it? By the arms? Or by your feet?”
She is fighting not to laugh.
“Do you plan on drowning me in your bathtub?”
