Confessions of a Carpool Captive Page 8

  He’s sick as a dog and still cute as hell. I don’t know why I feel so protective of him right now, but I do.

  The drive is longer than usual. There’s an accident and gapers are causing a delay. It takes me three hours to get Emerson and Kel home. Finn wakes up just as I drop off Ernesto. Thank God he had the addresses saved. He starts to cough.

  “You sound terrible.”

  “Holy shit, did I sleep through the whole drive?” he questions.

  I nod. “You obviously needed it.”

  “Pull over and I’ll drive you home.” He starts to cough again and I feel horrible for him. He looks awful.

  “There’s no way you can drive yourself home. You can barely hold your head up.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I cringe as I stare at him. He closes his eyes again and falls asleep. What do I do? I sit there for a minute and look at him. Really look at him.

  His dark glasses are perched on his nose. It’s a perfect nose, if there is such a thing. He has high cheekbones for a guy, but his face is masculine and strong. His lips are parted ever so slightly and it causes me to think about kissing them. I can hear him breathing; it’s soft and relaxing, like a fan in your room at night. His tie is hanging loosely around his neck and he’s slouched in the seat. I wonder if he’s cold so I turn up the heat.

  I have this strange desire to take care of him. I can’t send him home like this. I decide to do the only thing I can think of. I drive him back to my place.

  I spend the drive back to my apartment trying to figure out if I’m doing the right thing by bringing him home with me. Stopping the car in front of my building, I wonder how this will work. I think I have some cans of soup in my cabinet. I’ll let him sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch. Ugh, my nerves are shot. What if he hates this idea?

  I turn off the ignition and glance over at him. Softly, I touch his forehead. He’s still warm. My touch causes him to stir.

  “Hey,” he says with a smile, opening his eyes to me.

  “I’ve made up my mind and I don’t want to hear a single argument from you about it.”

  “O—kay…”

  “You’re spending the night with me.” Oh shit, that came out wrong.

  “Huh?” he manages to sit up a bit.

  “What I mean is that you’re far too sick to drive home and I’m worried about you, so you’re going to have to spend the night at my apartment because I don’t want to wonder if you made it home safely or fell in your driveway or died in your sleep and it will be easier if I can check on you and make sure you’re alive because we need you.”

  “You need me?” he asks with a grin.

  I roll my eyes. “So you’re staying.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Smiling at my win, I fish my keys out of my purse and walk around to his side. He sticks his feet out and sits for a minute. It’s as if it’s hard for him to stand. Holding out my hand to him, he lifts his eyes to me and smiles.

  He takes my hand and I help him up. He places his arm around my neck.

  “I’ll come back out for our stuff after I get you settled.”

  He nods his head. I hit the button on the remote to lock the door and we make our way inside. I’m only on the second floor, but we still take the elevator. I open the door to my apartment and flip on the light.

  “It’s nice. It suits you,” he says as I close the door behind him.

  He starts to make his way to the couch. “No, you get the bed,” I tell him.

  His head turns and he scowls. “Absolutely not. I will not take your bed. It’s bad enough I’m imposing as it is.”

  I stomp my foot. “This is my place and I make the rules. If I say you’re sleeping there, you’re sleeping there.”

  He shakes his head and leans on the wall for support. “So damn bossy. You just want me in your bed, don’t you Eliza?”

  “Stop calling me other names. And say whatever you want, you’re not going to piss me off and make me change my mind.”

  I place his arm around my neck again and help him to my room. I pull back the covers of my bed and he sits. I bend down and remove his shoes. Glancing up, I see he’s grinning at me. It’s not cocky or contrived, it’s soft and appreciative. I stand and begin to remove his tie. I slide his suit jacket off his shoulders and start to unbutton his shirt. He’s sitting and I’m standing so I have to bend over at my waist to reach him. I slide his shirt off his shoulders, revealing a t-shirt.

  “On or off?” I ask, pulling on the material.

  “Off please. I’m hot.”

  “Yes you are,” I say instinctively and his eyes meet mine. I sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you have a fever and you’re hot, not that you’re gorgeous and you’re hot. I mean, you are attractive, but that’s not what I meant… when I said it.”

  I shake my head at myself, reach for the material at his waist, and pull his shirt over his head. I gasp lightly when I see his sculpted abs and muscular arms. He has a tattoo on his chest with a date. It says “The Journey 3-11.”

  Trying my best not to stare at him, I turn and begin folding his clothes. He pushes himself up and I hear a clanking sound. He’s undoing the buckle on his slacks.

  “Whoa… what are you doing?” I ask.

  He gazes up at me. “Did you want me to sleep in my dress pants?”

  I pause nervously at the idea of him naked in my bed. Shirt didn’t seem bad, but pants too? Can I handle that? “I guess not,” I respond. “But you’d better not even consider commando.”

  He pauses. “Did you want to help with these too? I’d be good with that.”

  I let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m not touching your pants or anything in them.”

  He smirks. He must be feeling a little better. It’s the biggest smile I’ve seen all night.

  “Is chicken noodle okay?” I ask as he slides his pants down his legs. I immediately gasp and turn around noting black boxer briefs in my head.

  “Perfect, but please don’t go to any trouble. You’ve already done so much.”

  “I’ll be back.” I walk out of the room without facing him, afraid to see more than I already have.

  As soon as I pull the soup pan out of a cabinet, I stop and spin around. What was I thinking, having him here, sleeping in my bed half naked? Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? He’s not my responsibility. We’re not even friends. I shake my head. Who am I kidding? Yes, we are. We text all day long at work and I miss him when I don’t hear from him. If that’s not friends, then what is?

  I pour the can of soup into the pot and add water. I open the fridge, thankful I still have half a two-liter of Sprite. Opening another cabinet, I pull out a box of saltines. Soup and crackers are cheap, and they, along with crappy frozen dinners, are about all I do have in my apartment.

  I make my way into the bedroom, carrying crackers, a bowl of soup, and a glass of Sprite on a tray. He’s in my bed, under my covers and his eyes are closed. My breath hitches at the sight of him. He looks good in my bed. Too good.

  I clear my throat and his eyes open.

  “Hey,” he says with a smile, sitting up.

  I lean over and place the tray on his lap.

  “Thank you, Liz, this is just what I need.”

  His words make me grin. It feels good to help him. I lean forward and press my hand to his forehead. I can’t tell if he’s hot or clammy. I sigh, because I know what I need to do and I don’t want to do it.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” I say hesitantly. Leaning down, I press my lips to his forehead. He’s definitely warm. He moans softly and leans forward into me slightly. I pull back immediately. “Can you take Tylenol?”

  “Yes, I can.” He takes a spoonful of soup and moans lightly in appreciation. “Just like Mom used to make.”

  In my bathroom, I search through half-empty bottles for some medicine. Finding what I’m looking for, I place two in my hand and make my way back to Finn. He takes them with a sip of Sprite and con
tinues to eat his soup.

  Back in the kitchen, I have a few spoonfuls and some crackers myself, but I’m too nervous to eat. What do I do now? It’s 9 p.m. and I’m exhausted. Pulling extra sheets out of the linen closet, I begin making my bed on the couch.

  I hear Finn in my bathroom so I dart into my room, hoping to grab my pajamas before he comes back out. I don’t make it. He’s standing in front of me in his boxers, one hand around his neck, causing his muscles to protrude. Spinning around, my eyes almost pop out of my head. It’s not like I haven’t seen a half-naked or even naked man before. I don’t know why he has this effect on me.

  I turn back around and try to act like I don’t care as he climbs back into bed.

  “Liz, I hate that I’m taking your bed away from you. Please let me have the couch.”

  “I love my couch. Sometimes I fall asleep out there anyway.” What a lie. It’s old and lumpy. “Can I get you anything else? I’m going to go to sleep.”

  “No, thank you. You’ve done more than enough.” He starts to cough and I feel terrible for him. I rush over and hand him the Sprite to take a drink. Our fingers touch as he takes the glass from me and I pull back.

  He gazes up, eyes full of concern. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I don’t know what to say so I nod and walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change.

  A few minutes later, I exit the bathroom and toss my clothes in the hamper. He’s sound asleep. Turning off the bedside light, I make my way to the couch. Checking the door, I realize I forgot to get our things from his car. I throw on a coat and slippers and run downstairs. I grab his briefcase and my bag and head back up.

  Locking my door behind me, I shiver. It’s cold tonight. It must be near forty. I place our bags by the door and take out my notebook. I decide to write about my drive and my day. It’s my nightly ritual. The lights are almost too bright so I decide to turn on my tabletop Christmas tree instead. It casts a warm glow in the room and I finally relax. I begin writing in my notebook and yawn. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I find myself dozing. I place my notebook on the coffee table, set my cell phone alarm, and pull my blanket up to my chin. Glancing back to my bedroom door one last time, I take a deep breath and nod off to sleep.

  My phone alarm causes me to jump. For a second, I’m confused about where I am. My back aches as I attempt to sit up. I remember why I’m on the couch and immediately begin smoothing my hair. I tiptoe into the bedroom. He’s still asleep, but he’s on his stomach with his mouth open on my pillow.

  Quietly, I take clothes from my closet and drawers and make my way to the shower. I turn it on and wait the mandatory five minutes for the water to get warm.

  As I exit the bathroom, ready to go, I note he’s still out like a light. He’s probably too sick to go to work, but shit. What am I going to do? I gently tap him on the shoulder a few times, until he wakes and rolls over. He’s almost as confused as I was this morning.

  “Oh man, what time is it?” he asks, attempting to sit up.

  “There’s no way you can go to work today, Finn. You’re too sick.”

  He rubs his face with his palms and then coasts his fingers through his hair. “You’re probably right, but I still need to drive you.” His face has fresh stubble and my breath catches at the sight of him. It’s sexy as hell.

  He pushes his legs out of the covers and tries to stand. He wobbles and I reach out for him.

  “You aren’t driving anyone,” I insist. It’s then that I notice a bit of morning wood. Holy fuck, it’s more than a bit. My thighs clench and I turn my gaze. He’s either unaware or he doesn’t care that he’s pointing at me with his third hand.

  He falls back on the bed. “God, am I pain in the ass or what?”

  “You’re fine.” So, so fine, I say in my head. “My only question is, how do you feel about my using your car?”

  He nods. “Yeah, of course you can. Are you okay with that? If you have my car, I’m kinda stuck here all day.”

  The thought of him alone in my apartment freaks me out. I hadn’t considered that when I had him sleep over. I begin to panic with thoughts of him rummaging through my underwear drawer and finding my dildo stash.

  He must see it on my face because he darts up to stand. “I’m definitely driving you.”

  “No!” I shout, glancing down again at the tent in his underwear and then spinning away to avoid staring. “It’ll be fine. You stay here. Just don’t…”

  “Touch anything?” he asks with a smirk.

  “You can touch the stuff in the kitchen,” I add.

  He smiles. “I’m going to sleep all day. I promise to behave.”

  I nod apprehensively, pick up a pair of black pumps off the floor, and turn to leave.

  “Liz? Thank you. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

  I smile. “Get some rest.” I point at him. “And behave, or so help me…”

  He crosses his heart.

  I grab my notebook, thankful I remembered it and take one last look around before heading out the door.

  I have to go further out to pick up Ernesto and I find myself winding in and out of traffic to make up some time. Ernesto smiles when he sees me and raises his hands in the air in question. I make a puke face and the sound to go with it and he nods his head in understanding.

  Kel must be running late because he’s not there. I see him walking in the distance and drive over to him so I don’t have to wait. Kel takes the passenger seat. I cringe.

  “No Finn today? Alright! I call shotgun!”

  I wish I picked up Emerson first.

  “No Frappuccino today?” Kel questions, turning back to see whether or not Ernesto has a drink. “Well that sucks.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “So, Liz, tell me a little about yourself.”

  I sigh. “I’d rather not.”

  “Oh come on. How is it that you have Finn’s car? Where is he?”

  “He let me borrow it. He was too sick to drive.”

  He nods his head and he’s quiet. I assume he’s thinking. I hope he drops it and doesn’t ask how I got it from him.

  “So you and Finn, huh? You guys dating?”

  I spin my head quickly to make a point. “Us? No. He’s like a brother.” What a lie. Yeah, if I ogled my brother’s almost naked body and wanted to lick his tattoo. Eww. That was a weird thought.

  “Your single, then?” Kel asks, leaning over the seat rest in the center and getting a little too close for my comfort.

  When I don’t respond, he continues. “Christmas is just a week away. Wouldn’t it be nice to curl up with someone by a nice warm fire?”

  I squirm in my seat uncomfortably, happy to see the exit for Emerson’s house up ahead.

  “Did I mention I have a fireplace?” he asks.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. “You want to know about me? I’ll tell you about me. Up until about two weeks ago, I was driving myself to work every day. It was a nice, quiet drive with no conversation or awkwardness. I was alone with my thoughts and I was happy. Really happy. Then I met Finn and my car died. So now, not only do I have to ride with Finn every day, but I have to ride with all of you. I don’t like to talk, exchange niceties, or have a general conversation. And I hate, HATE, that you think your flirting with me is somehow appropriate or appreciated. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you get in the back seat and refrain from speaking to me at all for the rest of the day, if not the rest of my life!”

  “Whoa. How did you say all that without breathing?”

  “Did you hear me at all?”

  “Yeah, I heard you. You’re really irritable today, huh?”

  I exhale slowly between pursed lips and try to control myself. I want to reach across the seat and hit him upside the head.

  Pulling into Emerson’s driveway, I motion to the back with my thumb. “You— back seat. Now!”

  “Sheesh. You don’t have to be nasty.”

  Emerson is making her way dow
n the sidewalk when she turns abruptly. Her wife flies out the door with a paper sack and they laugh. She kisses her and finishes making her way to the car. She notices me in the driver’s seat and I can sense the questions in her eyes.

  She opens the front door. “Am I sitting here today?”

  “Yeah, Finn’s still sick.”

  “Aww, poor guy.”

  “Yeah, and we don’t get drinks either,” Kel adds with irritation.

  Emerson shakes her head. “Typical bullshit from you. The guy is puking his guts out and all you can think about is your free coffee?”

  “Well, he should have texted us so I could have brought my own. Now I’m thirsty.”

  “You’re a real piece of work,” Emerson mumbles. I’m thankful for her presence. I hate being alone with Biff in the back seat. I chuckle at my private joke. It was a good reference. Kel almost exactly resembles Biff Tannen from Back to the Future.

  “You okay driving?” Emerson asks.

  “I’m fine.” I twist a bit in my seat. My back hurts from sleeping on the couch.

  “How did you get Finn’s car?” she whispers to me.

  My eyes widen and I can tell by her smile that she knows there’s more to the story. She gazes back at Ernesto and Kel and then faces forward. “We’ll definitely talk later. I can’t wait to hear this one.”

  She opens up her paper bag and pulls out a jelly donut and a napkin.

  Kel leans forward in his seat. “Did you bring some for the rest of us?”

  “Why would I do that? My wife packed this for me. Get your own wife.”

  “I’m trying.”

  I glance in the rearview mirror and he gives me a wink. I’m going to have to figure out a way to get him to back off.

  After her jelly donut, Emerson starts munching on some carrots. The crackling sound is annoying, but it’s better than making conversation, so I don’t mind. I’m the only one.

  “Could you chew a little louder? I can still hear myself think back here?”

  “Shut up, ass-wipe.” She turns and chomps off a bit of carrot and chews with her mouth open, emphasizing the sounds.

  “Want one?” she holds the open bag to me and I shake my head.