The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants (5 page)

Shane went home to his apartment. He was antsy, yet he felt dog tired. Never a good mix -- wired, and tired. He sat down on the sofa and locked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He needed to get some rest before he had to go in to work later, but his thoughts were spinning so fast, they were making him dizzy.

He stood and walked across the room to the old guitar case leaning against the wall. The acoustic guitar had once belonged to his dad, and Shane had taught himself to play. Over the years, he'd gotten pretty good. He pulled the Fender from its case and brushed his fingers lightly across the strings. He frowned as the sour notes hit his ears. It had been a while since he'd played, and the guitar sounded horribly out of tune.

For the next half hour or so he strummed, listened, and adjusted the tuning knobs until he was satisfied. He closed his eyes and began to play a favorite tune from memory, "Time In A Bottle," a ballad by Jim Croce that was written long before he was born. Shane was his own worst critic. Since the accident, he didn't believe in himself or his ability to do anything well anymore.

When he was a star basketball player for the Red Vale Raiders, he was the town's golden boy. Most people thought he could do no wrong. Girls wanted to be with him, and boys wanted to be him. Under Shane's leadership, the team won the state championship two years in a row, during his junior and senior years. His talent had earned him a scholarship to Iowa State University.

Shane planned to attend college in Ames, play basketball, and study astronomy. He was going to leave Red Vale to go away to school and do the two things he loved most: learn all he could about the solar system and play basketball. He had his life plotted out as intricately as the night's skies.

Shane's dreams died the night of his high school graduation. Out partying, celebrating his new-found freedom with friends, he got drunk and slammed his Chevy Silverado into a tree. His girlfriend, Lila Walker, was thrown from the pickup and died instantly. Shane was pinned inside the cab of the truck until the paramedics and the Jaws of Life could cut him from the wreckage. He got out with his life, but his leg was left so severely injured, he'd never play basketball again. No basketball, no scholarship, and without a scholarship, going to college was not written in his stars.

After that, things began to spiral out of control for Shane. While still recuperating from his injuries, his beloved mother was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. It was six months and twenty-three days from the day the cancer was discovered until the day she died.

It wasn't that life had made him bitter. He just didn't give a damn whether he lived or died, and he lived each day as if it were his last, but not in a good way. His addiction to anything that made him feel better, at least temporarily -- painkillers, booze, and any drug he could get his hands on -- had Shane on a fast track to joining his mother in Red Vale Cemetery. If his Aunt Neona hadn't intervened when she did, he'd likely be dead right now, and there were many times when he wondered if he wouldn't have been better off.

Shane played the guitar effortlessly, and it never failed to relax him as the music seeped into his soul. He played until his fingers were raw, and his eyes drooped. He stood and slid the instrument back into its case, before making his way to his bedroom. He peeled off all of his clothes and climbed buck naked between the sheets.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out -- dead to the world.

When he woke some time later, he found himself staring up into Star's big brown eyes. "What the hell?" He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and took another look. He wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming. "Pinch me," he whispered.

As they loaded Neona into the backseat of Michael's police car to take her to the clinic in town, her largest concern was who was going to relieve Ami at the store.

"Ami can stay on a few extra minutes until we get this all sorted out, Neona. Stop worrying so much," Michael told her.

"Well, I know she can stay for a bit, but she can't be on her feet for another six hour shift. Not in her condition," Neona informed him.

"She's pregnant, not helpless," Michael said. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and Star could tell that he was trying not to let his frustration show.

"What can I do to help?" Star offered.

Michael and Neona exchanged a quick glance. "Can you run a cash register and make change?" Michael asked her.

Star resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Of course."

Neona huffed out strangled laugh. "You were looking for a job...leave it to divine intervention to help pave the way."

Michael opened the passenger side door. "Come on, get in," he told Star.

"Um, okay, sure," she said, and climbed into the car.

Michael got into the driver's seat, and they headed toward the store out on the highway. "Ami is my daughter-in-law. She's due in a few weeks with my first grandchild. She's crabby, but her bark is worse than her bite. I'll have her stick around long enough to get you started." He peered sideways at Star. "Then I'll get Neona to Mercy Urgent Care."

The roads were glazed with a thin layer of ice, making the short jaunt to the convenience store take longer than it would have under normal circumstances. The salt trucks were out on the highway, and the temperature was hovering right at the freezing mark.

"Saturn, Pluto, and Mars," Star hissed beneath her breath when they pulled into the packed parking lot. She turned to Michael her face white as chalk. "Is it always this busy?"

He shook his head. "Not even close. People must have decided to stop and wait out the weather."

"Ami is going to be madder than a wet cat," Neona mumbled.

"It can't be helped, Neona." Michael sighed. He parked the car and told Star, "I'll go inside to let Ami know what's happened. Shane's apartment is up those stairs," he nodded toward the narrow, ice glazed steps at the side of the building, "would you mind running up to see if you coax him into coming down early to help out?"

Star chewed on her upper lip and nodded before climbing from the car. Ice made the steps dangerously slick, and she took them as swiftly as she dared. On the landing at the top, she inhaled a deep breath and tentatively knocked on the door. She waited for him to answer, and after a moment, she pressed her ear against the door to listen for any movement inside. Nothing. She tried again, with a little more force this time.

Not hearing any noises from the other side of the door after three attempts, she made her way back down to the ground. She leaned into the police car. "Neona? I don't think Shane's home," she said.

Neona rubbed the palm of her hand against her forehead and blew out a noisy breath. "His motorcycle's here. He's probably sleeping. He sleeps like the dead, and it's damn near impossible to wake him sometimes."

Star tucked a loose curl behind her ear and asked, "What should I do?"

"He never locks his door. You're going to have to go on inside and see if you can wake him," Neona muttered. Beads of sweat trickled down her temples. It was clear she was in pain and really needed medical attention immediately.

Star's eyes widened in an unspoken protest. "What if he thinks I'm an intruder and shoots me or something?"

Neona dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "As far as I know, he doesn't own a gun."

Star traipsed back up the stairs. Again, she banged her fist against the door with so much force she knew it would leave the side of her hand bruised. She pulled her lips between her teeth and tried the door handle. With a loud snick, it opened, and Star stepped through.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but the space was small and surprisingly neat. No dirty dishes or empty pizza boxes strewn about, like one might expect from a young bachelor's apartment. She inhaled the overpowering aroma of hot guy: amber incense and Irish Spring soap, not at all unpleasant.

Just being in Shane's personal space made her feel a little like she was spying on him, and the thoughts made her cheeks burn.
What if he comes out and catches me here? I'll die of mortification. You can die from that, right?

She glanced around the space and noticed only two doors. One of them was open, and it was obviously the bathroom. She assumed the other had to be his bedroom. She walked over and stood outside his room. When she lifted her hand to knock, the door slid open. Cautiously, Star peeked inside. He was on his back, his right arm across his eyes. His bare chest rose and fell in measured, shallow breaths.

"Shane?" she said quietly. She reached out and gently shook his shoulder. He made a moaning noise, which was unnerving. Star had to admit, it sounded kind of hot. She shook him once more and was about to repeat his name when his eyes popped open. He blinked, and Star could have sworn she heard him say, "Pinch me."

"Shane?"

Startled by her presence, his hand darted out and wrapped snuggly around her fragile wrist. In one swift movement, he leaped from his bed. As he did, the strategically placed sheet, which had been covering him, slid to the floor, revealing way more than she'd planned to see. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and wrenched her arm free from his grasp. Spinning around, she felt her face catch fire from embarrassment and shock. Shock that he'd grabbed her so roughly and embarrassment from seeing him in all of his tight body, nakedness.

Saturn, Pluto, and Mars.
"God. I'm so sorry. Please don't think I'm some sort of weird stalker chick. But your aunt fell, and we think she broke her leg. Michael is taking her to Mercy Urgent Care. They need you to come into work early. Like now. That's all. I'll just let myself out so you can get dressed," she blurted without stopping to take a single breath. She bolted toward the door to make her escape while she still had some semblance of pride remaining.

Star held her breath all the way down the stairs. As soon as she cleared the threshold of the convenience store, she exhaled noisily. Michael and Ami turned to stare at her as though she'd lost her mind, and she burst into a fit of nervous giggles. The skin between Michael's eyebrows creased. "Is Shane coming?" he asked.

The tops of Star's ears burned when she realized in her haste to get the hell away from the gorgeous, naked young man upstairs, she hadn't waited around long enough to find out if he was actually going to come and relieve Ami. "Um. I sort of forgot to get an answer," she said quietly.

Ami's face split into a mile-wide grin. "Let me guess. Shane didn't answer the door, so you went inside. He was naked, right?"

Star's cheeks reddened, and she gaped at the short woman, who was nearly as wide as she was tall. She wondered how Ami could possibly know that Shane had been naked, unless she'd witnessed the same thing at some point. Star averted her eyes to the toes of her shoes and nodded. "As a jaybird."

Michael let out a groan. "I've got to get Neona to Mercy Urgent Care. We've wasted too much time as it is."

Ami shooed him out the door. "Go. We've got this."

He gave her a curt nod. "I'll stop back later," he said, and was out the door in two strides.

"Get yourself one of these sexy red smocks," Ami teased and motioned toward the back room. "There are a few extras hanging up in Neona's office."

Star disappeared into the back of the store, and after trying on several tops, she found a clean one that fit. When she came back out, Ami was busily ringing up the line of people at the cash register. "Go ahead and restock the soda coolers. You know how to make coffee?" she asked.

"Sure," Star responded to both requests. She brewed two fresh pots of coffee right away and then worked on filling the coolers. She needed to take her mind off the very virile, very naked Shane Harper.

Hard at work, intently focused on the job at hand, Star sat back on her haunches to fill the cooler's bottom shelves. She sensed him before she saw him. Her eyes fixed on his worn Nikes, and she refused to allow her gaze to roam any farther up his jean clad legs.

"Sorry about what happened earlier," Shane said softly.

Star's eyebrows pinched together. "I'm the one who owes you an apology," she told him.

He kneeled down so that he was eye level with her. He wanted her to look at him, but she seemed to be completely uninterested in doing so. He gently laid his hand on her forearm, and felt her flinch away from his touch. He glanced down and, to his horror, saw bruises beginning to form around her wrist from where he had grabbed her. "Aw hell. Did I do that?" he asked.

"It's okay, really. I bruise super easy." she said. His gentleness unhinged her, and she found it hard to think straight with him in her personal space. She sighed and brushed her hair away from her face. His eyes shifted, and she knew he saw what was left of the faint yellow bruising on the ridge of her cheekbone.

"No, really. I'm sorry I grabbed you like that. I overreacted and...well, I didn't mean to hurt you," he offered.

Star pushed to her feet and stepped away from him. "I didn't mean to see you naked, either," she said truthfully as she turned to gather up the empty soda flats.
Though I'm not really complaining.

"Are you planning on doing any work anytime soon so I can get the hell out of here?" Ami asked, addressing Shane. She stood in the doorway between the front and back rooms with her arms folded across her chest.

"Yeah, get out of here. I've got it," he told her as he strode past her toward the register.

The temperature had crept up a couple of degrees, allowing the salt to do its job, making the roads safe for travel again. Slowly, one by one, the crowd thinned until Star and Shane were the only two people left in the building.

He taught her how to operate the cash register, and while she waited on the customers who came and went, he swept, mopped, and did anything he could think of to keep from giving in to the overwhelming urge he had to wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. He smiled to himself when he caught her staring at him several times while he pretended not to notice.

"You realize Pluto's technically not considered a planet anymore, right?" he asked.

"Random much?" Star rolled her eyes. She was aware of the scientific debate. But as someone who had studied astrology for over twenty years, she would never be convinced that Pluto didn't matter in the countless astrology charts she'd delineated.

"I study the solar system. Planets are kind of my thing," he admitted.

"Me too," she said.

Shane quirked an eyebrow at her. He'd never met anyone who knew as much as he did about the solar system, and he was pleasantly surprised by her. "You study astronomy?"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm an astrologer."

"Pfft. I don't believe in that crap," he informed her.

Star planted her hands on her hips and cocked her head sideways at him. "Let me guess. Capricorn, right?"

Shane shrugged his shoulders. "January eighth, whatever that is."

"I rest my case," she told him. Her mouth pulled into a smug, satisfied smile.