No Attachments Page 9



"Do come-ons like that always work for you?" I asked, working not to blush at his innuendo.


"You tell me," he said, sitting back in his seat with a small smile.


"We'll see," I answered, laughing breathlessly.


"Ooh, good answer. Okay, dogs or cats?" he asked, switching gears again.


"I'm not really sure. I never had any pets growing up. Probably a cat though. I always had this dream that my dad would surprise me with a kitten or something for my birthday," I said, surprised at the wistful tone in my voice. "How about you?"


"I have a cat that gets taken care of by my neighbor while I'm away on my extended trips. He's a cool cat, but he holds a slight grudge when I leave him. I know not to arrive at my condo without treats and a toy," he answered in a warm voice that melted me inside. Who knew a man who loved cats would come across so hot?


"A toy?" I asked intrigued. "Do cats play with things other than strings or a paper ball?"


"He's not into the typical cat toys. He has a particular lid fetish."


"Lid fetish?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.


"Like off of hairspray bottles," he explained.


I looked at him blankly, not quite sure that I knew what he was talking about, although he looked quite adorable trying to explain it.


"You know, the small lids that cover the spray nozzles," he said, holding his fingers about an inch apart for emphasis. Seeing my amusement, he plunged on.


"Anyway, he likes it when you throw them across the ceramic floor. He'll run after it and bring it back like a dog. So whenever I'm gone, I make a point of getting several of the lids for him."


"Do you really go through that much hairspray?"


"Well, no. I guess you could say I save other consumers the hassle of removing the lids off their bottles," he said sheepishly while I laughed.


"So, you mean to tell me your cat has turned you into a lid thief?"


"Well, when you put it that way, I guess so. Did I mention he was a cool cat?"


"He sounds like it," I said sincerely. The idea of Nathan strolling down the beauty aisle of a store, leaving behind a row of lidless hairspray bottles cracked me up. "Your neighbor doesn't mind watching him?" I asked.


"Nah, she claims it's no problem at all."


"How old would this neighbor happen to be?"


"I don't know, early twenties," he answered as the waitress approached to take our orders.


"I bet she doesn't mind," I said dryly once the waitress had taken our orders. I tried to convince myself I didn't feel jealous. What did it matter to me if his neighbor had the hots for him?


"Is that a note of jealously I hear?" he teased.


"Of course not. As long as she's not on the bike while I'm on it, I have no complaints," I sniped.


"Now that is something I would like to see," he said eagerly.


"I bet you would," I said, tossing a small piece of bread at him.


"As enticing at it sounds to have both of you on the bike with me, I'm perfectly content to just ride it with you," he added in a husky voice that made me uncross my legs in anticipation. "I foresee a long bike ride in our future," he added, barely looking up when the waitress dropped our salads off at the table. I felt his leg nudge mine under the small table before rubbing seductively against me.


"Really?" I asked, working to keep my breathing even. "You seem awfully confident about your bike-riding skills," I flirted back, shocking myself at my innuendo.


"Darling, I can guarantee you've never had a bike ride like the one I'm going to take you on. It'll make what happened in your living room earlier seem like a tricycle ride," he murmured, rubbing his thumb across the pulse point on my wrist.


I was embarrassed over the reminder, but his words also brought back the mental picture of our bodies tangled together, and what he had done to me.


As if he sensed my thoughts, his own eyes darkened with desire. Withdrawing my hand from his, I focused on eating my salad so I could get my raging hormones under control. My efforts were futile. My appetite was nonexistent in light of what we could be doing. By keeping my eyes down and focusing on my salad, I felt some semblance of normalcy. I figured Nathan was having a similar issue of focusing when I heard him clear his throat twice in quick succession. It was only when he did it a third time that I finally looked up. I was shocked to see that his face looked slightly distorted. His lips seemed swollen like someone had blown them up slightly. His cheeks were puffed out like he was a squirrel storing nuts for the winter. He tried to clear his throat again, but it came out more of a gurgle.


Finally realizing what was happening, I jumped to my feet. "Are you allergic to nuts?" I asked, thinking about the salad we had just been consuming.


He tried to talk again to no avail.


"What's going on?" the waitress asked, placing our plates on the table as she eyed Nathan's rapidly swelling face in horror.


"Are there nuts in the salad?" I demanded.


"Crushed cashews," she said weakly as I helped Nathan to his feet.


"A warning label would have been nice," I snapped. "How far to the nearest hospital?"


"Less than five minutes," one of the other patrons said, joining us. "You can follow me," she said, grabbing her purse and her young daughter.


"Thank you," I said, helping Nathan out of the restaurant.


"No problem. My sister is allergic to nuts too. Normally she carries an EpiPen wherever she goes," she said, looking at me questioningly.


"Do you have an EpiPen in your car?" I asked Nathan, who was struggling to drag air through his windpipe. He shook his head no.


"Well, that's not very smart," I snapped, depositing him in the passenger seat. By the time I climbed behind the wheel, the lady from the restaurant was already waiting for me in her vehicle by the exit. Once I put the vehicle into gear, she tore out of the parking lot with me right behind her.


I glanced over at Nathan while I drove, not liking the purplish tint his face had taken. Gripping the steering wheel hard, I continued to berate him in my panic-filled state. I knew it wasn't the best time to be ridiculing him, but my frustration at the situation had me rambling on. Thankfully, the traffic lights were on our side as we sped down the road. Finally, I could see the hospital in the distance. The traffic light just before the hospital turned yellow and we were still more than a hundred yards back, but both of us stepped on the accelerator and ran the red light before screeching into the hospital ambulance bay.


"Hey, you can't park here," a nurse said as I threw open my door.


"My friend is having an allergic reaction," I hurled at her as I raced around the vehicle to open his door.


The nurse took one look at Nathan slumped over in the passenger seat before hollering out instructions to the other staff as the double doors to the ER slid open. The next few minutes passed in a blur as medical staff descended on Nathan's car. Before I knew it, they were wheeling him into the ER on a gurney. I stood in the now-empty ambulance bay, completely at a loss for what I should be doing. A kind security guard took pity on me and pointed me in the direction of where I could park. I got back behind the wheel and drove the vehicle to the proper location. Moving in a haze, I tried to focus on anything but my aversion to hospitals as I made my way to the admittance desk.


"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked without looking up.


"Um, yeah, I'm looking for my friend," I said, figuring bike-riding partner wouldn't be much of an explanation.


"Name," she asked, looking bored.


"Nathan," I said, tapping my foot impatiently.


"I don't see a patient by that name. Are you sure this is the right hospital?" she asked, resuming her typing.


"Considering the fact that I drove him here five minutes ago and watched members of your staff wheel him through those double doors, I would say yeah, I'm sure I have the right hospital," I answered sarcastically.


"What is his injury?" she asked, not responding in the slightest to my sarcasm.


"Allergic reaction," I said, working to keep my voice even while I fought the urge to grab her Snoopy-covered hospital scrubs and shake the hell out of her.


"Curtain five," she said, pointing to the other side of the room that was partitioned by curtains hanging from the ceiling.


"Thanks," I muttered, hurrying off.


Sweeping into the curtained-off area, I was unprepared for the sight that greeted me.


An elderly doctor was intently listening to Nathan's lungs with a stethoscope, but it was the actual sight of a shirtless Nathan that stopped me in my tracks.


Chapter 10: A night in the hospital


Nathan


I would have been amused by Ashton's expression when she entered my not so-private room if not for the fact that I felt like a complete bonehead. A bonehead with lips the size of watermelon slices and cheeks that felt numb from the rapid swelling they had endured. I felt the pain was justified for being a complete ass. First, by not checking my salad more thoroughly, and second, for forgetting to throw a spare EpiPen in the glove compartment.


"Your lungs sound clear, which is a good sign. Don't worry about the swelling. It will dissipate soon. You will have to spend the night with us so we can pump fluids into you," the doctor said, pointing to my IV.


"Do you really think that's necessary?" I rasped out.


"It's not even debatable," he said on his way out. "A nurse should be in here shortly so we can take you to your room," he threw over his shoulder.


"How are you doing?" Ashton asked, approaching hesitantly.


"Truth or macho guy answer?" I asked.


"Why don't we go with the truth since truthfully you look like shit," she said, sliding the only chair in the small cubicle toward my bed.


"Don't try to spare my feelings," I tried to joke through a harsh cough.


"Wouldn't dream of it, but seriously, if you didn't want to go on a bike ride, all you had to do was just say so," she teased, lacing her fingers through mine.


"Well, I did promise it would be a ride you wouldn't easily forget," I replied ruefully.


"Well, you pulled that off."


"Told you," I said, bringing her hand up to my lips so I could place a kiss on her knuckles. "You don't need to wait around here. You can take my car home and I can catch a cab in the morning when they release me."


"Don't be silly. I have nowhere to go. I'll keep you company until they move you to a room, and I'll be here in the morning to pick you up. Don't even think of arguing," she said before I could speak again.


"I wouldn't dream of it," I said, holding up my hands in surrender.


"So, are there any other allergies I need to be aware of?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at me.


"Don't think so. Truthfully, I don't give the cashew one much thought. It's not like it's a common ingredient in anything. It was just rotten luck that the restaurant decided to use cashews for a topping. I usually carry a spare EpiPen, but I haven't had a reaction in years. You know, I could blame you," I teased.


"Me?" she asked, sounding shocked by my accusation.


"Hell yeah. If you weren't seducing me in the middle of the restaurant, I would have paid more attention to what I was putting in my mouth."


"Surely someone of your experience would know what to put in your mouth," she said saucily.


Her not-so-subtle innuendo rekindled my arousal from earlier. I had to adjust the blanket across my lap to hide the evidence. "Honey, normally it's not a problem," I said, only to choke slightly on my vocal chords that still weren't cooperating.


She laughed while I stuttered over a cough. "I think you'll have to save your flirting for another day, hot stuff," she said, gently pushing my shoulders until I was lying back against the hospital bed that was slightly inclined. Still coughing, I nodded my head in defeat. Tonight, I was barely any talk with definitely no action. I would have been highly disappointed at the way the night had gone if I didn't have the mental picture of the appetizer at her house to fall back on.


Ashton stayed with me during the few hours it took to get me into a room. We continued to skirt away from the tougher subjects and instead talked about the things we loved. It didn't surprise me in the slightest that Ashton was bright and intuitive on most subjects. Her insights into pop culture were a nice change from the boring conversations I was used to. It was refreshing to talk about our taste in music, books and movies. As luck would have it though, the medicine they were pumping through me began to take effect and my eyelids grew heavy. I only meant to close them for a second, but it was like they'd been super-glued down. I felt Ashton pulling the covers over me and I would have thanked her, but the meds and a sudden headache pulled me under. I thought I felt her hand graze the planes of my chest, then trickle down my stomach. Maybe it was just the meds, or I could have been dreaming, but either way, I liked it. One thing was clear: Ashton was nothing like I expected. How was I going to get her out of my system when everything about her seemed to pull me in?


Chapter 11: Anticipating the deed


Ashton


Despite the fact that he had fallen asleep, I stayed with Nathan as promised until they moved him to his room. Only once he was out did I allow myself to dwell on how scared I had been, thinking he was going to die. We'd known each less than four days and really knew nothing about each other, yet I was worrying about him like we had been lovers for a lifetime. It was insanity to feel anything other than lust for someone I hardly knew, but everything about him enticed me, tricking me into believing in what-ifs. We weren't supposed to have any feelings or strings attached, but here I was. I knew without a shadow of a doubt I was setting myself up. The wisest thing I could do would be to catch a cab and never look back. No harm, no foul. Foolishly, I did neither.


The drive back to my cottage passed quickly as I attempted to sort through and categorize my feelings. By the time I returned home I realized my mixed-up emotions were an accumulation of stress and anxiety from his allergic reaction. Sure, I liked him, but he was still just an item on my list. I had to stick to our deal, and as long as he could keep his word, we could have our fun and then go our separate ways.


***


The chirping of a new text on my phone woke me the next morning.


I smiled when I read the text message from Tressa.


"Give me all the deets Ho."

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