Anxious Love (Love Sick #1) (2 page)

"Oh, um. It's nice to meet you, Leah."

Fuck.

She blushed and turned away as she crossed her arms over her chest.

I can't believe I popped a woody in front of this girl.
What am I, twelve years old?

I exhaled and adjusted myself. My eyes remained on the ground.

Fuck me again; if the scripted tattoo on her ankle wasn't sexy as hell and didn't help my hard-on go away.

My fingers twitched. "So, uh, why did you stop coming to Poppies?"

"I, uh, kind of have a thing about being around a lot of people." She turned back to me. "First-round draft picks kind of garner a crowd everywhere they go."

I gave up trying to decipher the tattoo and grinned. She had recognized me.

"I didn't mean to run you out of your place. I could go someplace else."

"No, really, it's fine. I found another place."

"Oh yeah, where?"

She hesitated.

"I promise not to ruin that place for you, too."

She laughed, and my dick ached it wanted out so bad.

"I do want to see you again."
While wearing a pair of jeans.
"Maybe I could take you out to dinner or something?"

Leah touched the building; her brow scrunched up as she contemplated my invitation. "Or something?"

"Yeah, I could wear a disguise if it will make you feel better."

She smiled. The breeze blew. Relishing the opportunity to touch her, I reached up to push a strand of hair off her face.

She beat me to it as she took another cautious step back and said, "I don't usually go out with strangers, but—"

"But... I like the sound of that."

She arched her eyebrow, and I shut up before she changed her mind.

"There's a bar on Iberville called
21st Amendment
. I hang out there sometimes during the day. My friends own it. I'll be there tomorrow around three if you want to stop by for a drink."

"21st Amendment. Prohibition, right?" I asked.

"Very good." She giggled. "They taught you that at Notre Dame?"

"Nah, I learned that from Boardwalk Empire."

She laughed out loud, and it sounded so good and stopped too soon. She scanned her surroundings again and walked away.

"Tomorrow at three?" I asked confirming we had definite plans.

She waved.

I watched her walk away, memorizing everything before she disappeared. Her lean calves, her muscular thighs visible beneath her flirty little dress. I caught a glimpse of the profile of her round ass as she turned the corner.

I collapsed against the building, waiting for my own lungs to kick-start.

When I regained composure and the ability to walk, I pushed off the building and headed back to Poppies.

Perplexed at how being drafted, signing a multi-million-dollar contract, and achieving all my goals paled in comparison to meeting Leah.

Fuck me, I mean... oh hell, fuck me, I'm in trouble.

Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! What did I do?

I turned the corner. My steps quickened as I spotted my destination ahead.

Six more steps. Five, four, three, two, one.

I surveyed the crowd scattered under the green and white awning. I knocked on the window on the side of the building. The historic spot was crowded. At seven am, the place was too crowded.

Thankfully, I had someone on the inside.

Becca saw me and held up two fingers.

I leaned my back against the building welcoming the solid surface. I crossed my arms over my chest continuing to feel his gaze on my cleavage.

How did I let him sneak up on me? Usually, I was much more careful, much more alert, but he got the drop on me.

Shit, shit, shit!

I knew better.

I shook the idea out of my head. He wasn't trying to hurt me. He was hitting on me.

My stomach clenched.

"Hey, Leah."

I gasped and turned back to the window.

"Sorry." Becca handed me my coffee and a small white paper bag.

"No, don't worry about it. I'm jumpy today." I handed her a ten-dollar bill and turned to walk away.

"You sure you're okay. You look a little... off."

"No, I'm fine," I said.

"See you in a few days," she yelled.

Since Mr. NFL star made my favorite breakfast place his personal fan meet-and-greet spot, I had stayed home and fixed my own breakfast. At least once per week, I partook in the New Orleans tradition of cafe au lait and beignets. I would grab my food, find a spot near the Mississippi River, and watch New Orleans wake up.

I was too freaked out to linger today. The safety and security of my home beckoned me. My sanctuary called me to return.

I don't need any more surprises.

As I crossed back over Decatur, I speed walked the next few blocks and turned left on Dumaine. I exhaled as my home came into view.

The three-story building on Dumaine Avenue took up most of the block. My gaze scanned the ornate black railings on the balcony of the second floor. I hoped to catch a glimpse of Sophie, my tenant in one of the two apartments on the second floor.

My eye narrowed as I spotted the curtains flutter in the empty apartment. My parents might have left a window open when they visited a couple of days ago.

My mind calmed as I punched the six-digit number on the keypad. My gaze swept the area one last time before I stepped inside and moaned as the door locked behind me.

I headed up the stairs but stopped. Sophie, the girl who rented the apartment on the second floor, sat on the landing picking at her nails.

"Good Morning?" I asked, happy my normal voice returned. It had gone up an octave since my run-in with Ryan Ware.

"Hey, sweetie." Sophie hummed a few bars of some unknown tune as she greeted me with a smile. She worked in a nightclub on Magazine Street. I never saw her outside her apartment before eleven am unless she was coming home from the night before. She moved to New Orleans a few months after me, escaping a crazy situation back home.

"What are you doing out here so early?"

She reached out and opened her door a crack. A heaving, rumbling noise amplified through the open door.

"You drilling for oil—" I asked.

A high-pitched groan interrupted me, followed by the bulldozer sound.

"What is that?"

"I tried waking him up, but he is passed out," she yelled, groaned, and pulled the door closed.

I shook my head. Crazy followed her.

I reached out my hand. Sophie took it and stood up. I headed up to my place.

We entered my place, and I set my backpack down on the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Sophie, wearing a tank top and shorts, pulled a blanket off the gray tweed sectional that took up most of my living room and wrapped it around her shoulders.

When Sophie and I met, we hit it off as much as I could hit it off with someone. I didn't intend to rent out the other rooms, but my parents worried about me living alone. My safety and security weren't their primary concern, however. No, they were worried no one would find my body until it started to smell.

"Where did you meet him?" I asked as I handed her the beignets, grabbed a bottle of water and my coffee, and followed her out on the balcony. She sat in one of the chairs next to the small glass-topped round table, and I moved the other chair around so I could look off the balcony at the city below.

"At the club last night. I'd seen him before. He came in for the first set and stayed all night. He's cute and kind of sweet, but he's dumb."

"What does he do?"

"I don't know. I mean he is
really
dumb." She sipped her water. "Amazing in bed, though. He's got a huge..." She held her hands up, eight inches apart, and giggled. I blushed and turned to look over the balcony. Not because of her explicit description. Sophie spoke without a filter, and I was used to it. My mind returned to my confrontation that morning with Ryan.

I should have been insulted and disgusted by his obvious attraction. At least, he had the decency to try to hide it. To his credit, his face grew red, especially the tips of his ears. I imagined they would be hot to the touch. I really wanted to touch them.

"Hello, Leah, are you listening to me?" Sophie waved her hands.

"Yeah, sorry." I grabbed one of the powdered sugar covered donuts and took a bite. "I did something stupid this morning," I said as a shower of powdered sugar sprayed out of my mouth.

"What did you do?" Sophie reached for a beignet.

"I think I inadvertently asked a guy out."

Her arm stopped in mid-air with the beignet dangling from her fingertips. Her mouth opened.

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. If ever I needed someone to confirm this wasn't a big deal, it was now. Sophie's reaction confirmed my initial thought. This was huge.

Oh, shit!

I stood up, walked down the balcony to my bedroom, and grabbed my iPad off my nightstand. As I headed back, I peered over the balcony as the trucks lined the streets delivering the day's wares to the restaurants and shops that made up the French Quarter. The familiar smell did nothing to soothe my nerves.

"Oh God," I said and turned back to her. "I made a huge mistake. I can't do this. I can't date. I certainly can't date him."

"What? Now, let's not freak out here. Yes, you can. You can do this."

I sat back down and pulled my legs to my chest as I covered them with the other end of Sophie's blanket. I laid my head on my knees—literally holding myself together.

"Who is this guy?" Sophie asked.

"I've seen him at Poppies for a couple of weeks but stopped going because of the crowd." Sophie nodded. "But I passed by on my way to Cafe Du Monde this morning, and he followed me."

"He noticed you, too."

I reached out and touched the side of my building. It decreased my anxiety, but my heart raced anyway. The way he stared at me made my body shiver. The sensation of where he touched my arm remained on my skin. "He's beautiful. His blond hair picked up the rays of the sun... his light brown eyes sparkled," I whispered.

Was I describing one of the heroes in my stories?

"What did you say when he stopped you?"

"I almost dropped him actually."

Sophie laughed.

"You do not just grab a woman you don't know. I was about to introduce his nose to my fist."

"You're such a badass. Jerry would be so proud."

Jerry, my personal trainer, specialized in self-defense. As a former Navy SEAL, he’d taught me techniques to drop a man three times my size. Before this morning, I’d never had an opportunity to try, but I grinned with the knowledge I had reacted to the proposed threat without hesitation. I could have dropped the six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound NFL lineman without breaking a sweat.

"Okay, so you agreed to what, exactly?" Sophie asked, pulling me out of my daydream.

"He asked me to dinner, and I suggested 21st for drinks instead," I answered shaking my head.

"Oh, that's good. On your own turf. What time?"

"Three o'clock, tomorrow."

"Unconventional dating hour, but that's okay. He'll think you're different." She nodded like this situation was normal.

"I don't want to be weird. “I sat on my hands to keep from fidgeting.

"I didn't say weird. I said different." Sophie shook her head, and I turned away. "Leah, you can do this. You go to 21st all the time, and you are comfortable in the setting. You sit down next to him for a few hours. Have a few drinks, a few laughs. All on your terms. You can do it."

"That's fine this time, but what if I like him? What about next time?"

"We'll figure it out when the time comes. He may turn out to be a douchebag. If that happens, you can have Mark kick him out and get on with your life."

The problem with her theory was that he wasn't a douchebag. Cocky as hell, but kind of sweet.

I laughed thinking about my five-foot-ten friend trying to kick Ryan Ware out his bar. The amusing image faded.

"Or I could not show up. He'll get the hint."

"There has to be a reason you asked him out. You're so intuitive about people and situations; you saw or felt something with this guy, so you owe it to yourself to explore it."

"Why?"

"Because it's part of your healing, part of your journey."

Typically, I'd called foul on using the healing journey excuse, but she was right. "You sound like my therapist."

"But cheaper, I imagine." She smiled. "God, you've come so far since we met. I'm blown away with how you've lived your life knowing all you've dealt with." Sophie beamed.

I rolled my eyes.

"You deserve this. It's going to work out. I can feel it."

I smiled but didn't believe her. I wanted to believe it. I wanted her faith.

A knock vibrated through the floor. I grabbed the side of my chair.

"Sophie, you up there?" A gruff male voice asked.

Sophie shook her head. I groaned, stood up, and leaned over the balcony.

"Hey," I said to the behemoth of a man below. I tried not to stare as he stood on the balcony with morning wood and no shame.

"Hey, you seen Sophie?"