Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace) (9 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Tyler

Blood stained my hand as I clutched the wound in my shoulder. I flashed my eyes to Pree and stumbled to my feet as she pulled me out of the alley. I hurt. I’d never been in a fight, had never gotten tackled, pummeled, kicked, or punched. My body screamed with pain, but my heart raced with another sort of panic.
Was she okay?

“Ty?” Pree’s high-pitched voice flew through the air, muddled with a cough.

“Are you okay?” I asked, catching my breath. I wrapped one arm around her waist for leverage, and one hand on her cheek to make sure she was alive and well. Part of me, the super-pissed-off part, wanted to run after those assholes and beat the crap out of them. The other part, the relieved-out-of-my-mind-that-nothing-worse-had-happened-to-Pree part, just wanted to hold her as if she’d disappear if I let go.

“Ty!” Pree repeated, more panicked now. “Oh my God! You’re bleeding.”

“Hadn’t noticed.” I flinched. “Are
you
okay?”

She nodded and helped me into the apartment building and up the steps. “Do you have your phone? I have to call the ambulance.”

“No.”

“I can drive you to the ER.”

“No. Not that bad.”

“Ty, you’ve been stabbed! You went to the ER when you tripped and sprained your ankle. You have to go now.”

“Don’t you have stuff from work? Can’t you fix me up?”

“ER is best. The doctor will know how bad it is.”

“You’re a doctor.”

“I’m freaking out.”

“I have some iodine and Neosporin.”

“You’re flipping stubborn.”

“Watch out.” I pulled back partway. “You’ll get blood on you.”

“I don’t care.”

I cracked a smile and turned at my door, but Pree gently pushed me onward to her apartment. “Fine. I’ll fix this, but if it’s bad, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“Okay.”

She let go long enough to open the door. She took me to the bathroom. I pulled away and faced her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her hand on my forearm.

“Are you bleeding?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt?”

She nodded and touched her head. “I hit my head.”

I tamped down my rising anger. They’d hurt her. “Anything else?”

“No.”

I ran my hands down her shoulders and arms. “They didn’t try to…touch you?” I spat the words out like foul-tasting venom that made me want to vomit.

She shook her head.

I touched her cheek. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I have to get you fixed.”

“Take something for your head first.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but I shook my head.

“Fine.” She quickly downed medicine and gave me a few pills and water. “Ty, your face is bruised. Take your T-shirt off. You’re bleeding.”

I sucked my teeth as I attempted to peel off my T-shirt. She helped, dropped the shirt on the counter, and gasped. She barely looked at me, but when she did, tears sparkled in her eyes.

Curious as to how bad I was, I glanced down. Dark red blood trickled from a short gash in my shoulder and gleamed under the light.

“What’s wrong? It’s not that bad, is it?”

She shook her head.

“Why are you about to cry?”

“You could’ve been seriously injured.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“They could’ve killed you.”

I scoffed. “Those idiots didn’t know what they were doing.”

I tensed as she pressed a washcloth around the bleeding gash. “It only takes one stab in the wrong place.”

“Guess this makes me your hero, huh?”

“Yes, it does.”

Silence surrounded us while she briefly examined the scratches on my chin and the painful bruises on my cheek. “He almost punched you in the eye!”

“But he didn’t. Which leads us back to my former statement that those guys were idiots who didn’t know what they were doing.”

“You’re a cocky, arrogant guy, Ty. Despite the human body being a spectacular specimen, you have no idea how easily a life can be taken or destroyed. Had they punched your eye hard enough, they could’ve permanently damaged your sight. Or if they’d punched you in the throat and broken your trachea, you would’ve suffocated. Or if they had cut a few inches to the right and sliced the carotid artery, you’d have bled out before we even got you to the ER.” She shook.

“Hey,” I said calmly, holding her shoulders. “It’s okay. None of that happened.”

“But you dismiss the fact that it could’ve happened and by chance it didn’t.”

“I’m looking at the facts. The fact is, it could’ve been much worse, but it isn’t. Hey, look at me.”

“What?” she snapped. Meeting my eyes, she exhaled and blinked away tears, which created a glossy sheen over the gorgeous hazel color.

“Everything’s okay,” I promised in a tone so composed and tranquil that she relaxed in my hands. Good. She couldn’t tell how incredibly pissed I was, and at the same time, unbelievably overwhelmed that she cared about me so much.

“I know. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Not your fault.”

“If I hadn’t been walking—”

“Wrong place, wrong time. I’m sure you’ve walked that street at that time of night before, and nothing happened.” I studied the deepening bruise on her face and brushed her cheek with my thumb. She flinched. “Does it hurt?”

She touched my hand and nodded.

“They hit you hard?”

She nodded again.

I growled beneath my breath before kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Thank you for what you did. It was very brave.”

The corner of my mouth curved up. “I think a hero deserves a kiss.”

She opened her mouth to maybe question or protest but snapped it shut. I was right. The least she could do was spare a measly kiss, and if all I had to do was risk my life to save hers, then it was well worth it. She swallowed, raised herself on tiptoes, and tilted into me, touching her lips to mine. I didn’t grab her and reel her in for a passionate tongue fight. Now wasn’t the time for that. I stood still and gave her full control of this simple thank-you kiss.

I thought a thank-you kiss wouldn’t hold the same type of yearning and desire a passionate kiss would have. I was wrong. This kiss grew on the basis of a whole new level of want, a yearning to protect one another, save one another.

“Are you happy?” she asked.

I flashed a smile. “I’m getting there.”

“I’ll be right back.” She ran off, and I eased myself onto the counter, flinching with every move.

When she returned, I sat hunched over, wetting the washcloth in the sink beside me and dabbing at the wound. As she set up her stuff, I replayed the incident in my head. Anything could have happened to Pree had I not shown up, and that frightened me. Some things much worse, things I couldn’t even consider, could have happened to her, and that created a tight knot in my stomach.

I sat up straight and watched her, my doctor to the rescue. She gulped and put on gloves.

Iodine bubbled around the wound from contact with blood. She wiped it clean and swiped an alcohol wipe across it before it bled again. She placed a small vial of clear liquid on the counter beside a packaged syringe and needle before using a short needle holder to pull out a sterile suture.

“Sting and a burn,” she said, standing between my thighs as she positioned the needle.

She glanced at me. I watched her hands.

“Not queasy, are you?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” I said. It didn’t seem manly to admit watching this done on my own body was a bit sickening, and yet I could not turn away.

“It’s superficial, not deep at all. I don’t even have to inject lido.”

“I’ll take the pain med.”

“You don’t have to look.”

“I’m fine.”

She injected the lidocaine. I flinched and pressed my lips together. In a matter of seconds, the intense burn numbed the surrounding area and allowed her to suture without me suffering through every poke.

“I feel horrible,” she said.

“We went through this. Not your fault,” I replied, my face close to hers because she would not look at me.

Her hands were trembling by the time she finished.

“Hey,” I said in a soft voice.

Pree licked her lips. She started to clear the counter, but all I could focus on was her mouth. She leaned over to drop the gloves into the wastebasket. I tightened my thighs around her. I lifted her chin and forced her to look at me.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. Are
you
okay?”

“You don’t have to be scared of those idiots, okay? I’ll call the police and file a report.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“You could’ve been really hurt. I can’t get over it.”

I smiled at her words. “You care about me, huh?”

“You’re a decent neighbor, a good guy. Wrong place, wrong time thing, I know.”

If she said anything else, her words didn’t register. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop myself. Her lips tasted too good, and she cared about me. She cared a lot about me. I leaned down and kissed her. She pulled away at first, and sucked in a breath.

I watched her reaction, my gaze moving from her eyes to her mouth until I was transfixed. Her lips were perfect. Swollen, pink, and glistening when she licked them again. She hesitated but didn’t move, and that was a glaring green light when it came from Pree. She wanted me to kiss her. Our eyes met again, and the need in hers spoke louder than words.

Placing a hand on the nape of her neck, I pulled her against me, her lips warm and moist on mine. A gentle kiss. Then another that lasted longer than the last. I swiped my tongue over her lower lip, a tease to see how she’d react. She pressed into one side of me, mindful of my wound. Her hands were on my thighs, near my hips.

I sucked on her lower lip and slowly released. Still close to her mouth, I waited. Pree didn’t back away. Nope. This time,
she
kissed
me.
She yielded to my tongue…and…was that a soft moan?

I slid one hand down to her waist, beneath her sullied shirt as my mouth wandered down her throat. She breathed a little faster, a little harder. Her fingers dug into my hip, her other hand clutched my hair and accidentally scraped the wound.

I hissed.

“Sorry!”

With my hands still firm on Pree, I groaned, “I don’t care, just don’t stop.”

Don’t ever stop.

I shook my head and returned to kissing her. Our first kiss had been sensual, but this kiss was filled with emotion so profound that my head spun.
This
was the kiss I’d waited my entire life for.

Chapter Seventeen

Priya

Though my body succumbed to every passion this man incited, my mind ran through a dozen questions.
What was I doing? Where could this possibly lead? And, no, I didn’t want to have sex with him…right? Or did I?

No!
What was I thinking? Sex was a huge leap from what we were doing, had ever done. I couldn’t…could I?

I wanted more, so much more, but I forced myself to pull away. We both heaved. “I, um, should clean this mess, and can you call the police?”

“Right.”

I moved away as he slid off the counter and went into the living room. I cleared the supplies and lifted his shirt to examine it. The bloody tear at the top warranted a one-way trip to the trashcan.

“The police are on their way. I’m going to my apartment to get a shirt, but I’ll be right back,” he said from the hallway.

My heart thumped. I reached out for his hand but instantly drew back.

“You wanna come with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” He held out his hand and I took it. He laced his fingers with mine, warm and protective, and waited as I locked the door. In his apartment, Ty donned a fresh T-shirt, and we were back in my apartment well before the police showed up.

We gave a report. Ty did most of the talking, and I declined going down to the station. He kept his arm around my shoulder the entire time, the only way I felt safe. I shuddered the moment he withdrew.

Ty walked the officers out, then sat next to me on the couch. “Do you want me to sleep over?”

I stared at him.

“On the sofa, of course.”

“Vicki should be home tonight.” Although the thought of sleeping in Ty’s arms wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Does she always come home this late?”

“Sometimes, usually. On the weekend. I’ll text her.”

Priya:
When will you be home?

Light illuminated darkening bruises on Ty’s cheek and scrapes on his chin. An hour ago, they were pale yellow, now bluish-green. Without thinking, I touched his face. “You look more bruised. I’ll get some ice.”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ve got battle wounds.” He grinned.

“You’re not a pirate.”

“Don’t worry. Really.”

Once he released my wrist, I hopped to my feet and made an ice pack. Ty groaned. “You’re stubborn,” he declared.

“Look who’s talking.”

He flinched when I pressed the ice pack against his cheek.

“Your face is starting to swell.”

“Care so much about my face?”

“Yes. It looks much better when it’s normal, not black and blue and puffy. Hold this in place.”

I checked my phone when it buzzed.

Vicki:
Tulsi got sick after dinner. I’m at her place to make sure she does okay.

Priya:
Give her plenty of water.

Vicki:
She’s puking everything up.

Priya:
Going to the ER?

Vicki:
LOL. I know better than to run to the ER for every little thing. I’m gonna watch her for a while.

Priya:
It’s already late. Gonna come home?

Vicki:
I guess I’ll crash here.

“What’d she say?” Ty examined my face.

I must’ve looked apprehensive, so I relaxed my face. “Tulsi has food poisoning. Vicki’s with her. She’s going to crash over there tonight.”

Ty inhaled and let out his breath. “What do you want to do?”

I tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. Was it too much to ask him to sleep over because the ordeal freaked me out?

“Want me to sleep here? On the couch?” he asked.

“Is that too much to ask?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you hungry? I have leftovers at my place.”

“I don’t have an appetite.”

“Want to watch TV to get your mind off things? A
Big Bang Theory
marathon is on.”

“You know me so well. I’m going to change. Are you comfortable sleeping in those clothes?”

“I’ll manage.”

I realized how sweaty and gross I was. I also had speckles of Ty’s blood on me. “Um, are you okay if I take a shower?”

He twisted and looked back at me from the couch. “Are you asking me if I want to join you?”

“Really?”

He laughed and turned to the TV. “I’m okay out here by myself.”

After a quick shower, I blow-dried my hair and slipped into undies. For the first time ever, the interest of my undergarments weighed more on the side of aesthetics rather than practicality. I twisted and turned to see my reflection from all possible angles.

Blue cotton bikini panties with pink lace were better than granny panties. A mismatched, padded white push-up bra with blue flowers was better than my usual sports bra. The white appeared to glow against my darker skin. All those miserable mornings getting up early to hit the gym had paid off. I worked out to stay in shape, feel good, and look better in clothes. I hadn’t imagined the day would come when I’d be worried about what a man thought.

I shook my head. What was I thinking? Ty would never see this. He couldn’t. Being with a man before marriage, a white guy at that, would shame my family. I loved them too much to hurt them.

Holding up my pajamas, I chose the slightly nicer ones. Instead of baggy sweatpants and a faded T-shirt, I picked fuchsia-striped cotton shorts and a white tank top. And I’d shaved!

By the time I returned to the living room, Ty was sprawled out on the couch asleep. Good. At least
he
could sleep.

I draped a blanket across him and tucked a pillow beneath his head, accidentally waking him.

He groaned. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He held my wrist, tugging me back down to eye level, though his eyes were closed. “You gonna sleep with me?”

“What?” My heart beat against my ribs.

“On the couch, like in my apartment?”

“Oh. No. You stretch out. I’ll sleep in my bed.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night.”

I left my bedroom door ajar and climbed under the covers. Goose bumps and shivers crawled over my body, not because it was cold but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the attackers.

Ty’s soft snoring acted like a promise of safety and an assurance of his well-being, mentally and physically. But I cowered. What if they had beaten me or raped me? The attack had been traumatic enough, but things far worse would have crippled me.

I tried to sleep, moving all over the place—from a fetal position, to facing the wall, to on my back, to facing the door with a watchful eye—yet slumber and peace evaded me. I willed Ty to stumble in, spoon me, and keep me safe for the rest of the night, but I had no such power. And Ty was either passed out or respected my request enough to stay out of my bed. I wished I had told him the truth, that I was terrified and I needed him to hold me.

The alarm clock was set to go off at five o’clock. I changed it. There was no way I was going to the gym in the morning.

At two o’clock, I slipped out of bed and trotted into the living room, hoping Ty was awake. I watched him sleep. He looked like a sleeping angel without a care in the world.

I brushed the hair from his brow. He stirred and opened his eyes, drowsily winking at me. “Babe,” he muttered and fell back asleep.

The way he said that made my heart stop and come back to life with a vengeance. I swallowed the lump in my throat and chided myself for his effect on me.