All of You Page 12

  Shit.

  Danny bee-lined it for the nightstand drawer, pulled out the reams of Trojans, and stuffed them into a shoebox in his closet. Finally satisfied it was as good as it was going to get, Danny made his way back to the kitchen.

  But Kat wasn’t there.

  He walked through into the living room and found her curled up and fast asleep on the couch. Danny’s chest ached watching her…

  Kat was as vulnerable as he’d ever seen her and it made him want to pull her into his lap and hold her. She looked every inch the fierce little thing she was when she was awake, but asleep? Kat seemed…fragile, somehow. And it activated a protective instinct in Danny he hadn’t known he possessed before he’d met her.

  Danny hooked one arm under her legs, wound the other around her back, and lifted her up against his chest. Kat stirred before, with a mind-fucking, soft little sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed her face into Danny’s chest.

  “Aw, hell,” he muttered, standing there.

  Torn.

  Danny finally lowered his lips to her hair and pressed a gentle kiss to her head, simultaneously huffing her scent like the creepy psycho he clearly was.

  Yep, it had been confirmed: nothing had changed in the fifteen minutes he’d been in the bedroom. Kat still smelled like fucking heaven. And, sure as shit, her scent still had the power to rattle his brain and pump up his body.

  That kiss – their mouths together, her body leaning into him, his hands buried in her hair – had been so powerful, so surreal, that Danny felt changed by it somehow.

  Different.

  And not in a particularly good way.

  Danny finally walked her up the stairs to his bedroom. He carefully laid her down on his side of the bed, removed her Converse and socks, and pulled the afghan up to her chin. He switched off the side table lamp, but left the TV on in case she woke up disoriented in the middle of the night and needed light to find him.

  Danny gathered up the dirty linens from the bed, tossed them into the laundry room, and checked on Kat once more before grabbing two beers out of the fridge and popping the caps off on the edge of his counter. He dropped onto the couch, blowing out a hard sigh before propping his feet up on the coffee table, grabbing the remote, and mindlessly flipping through channels.

  He downed one beer and made a serious dent in the second one.

  Danny didn’t see any sleep in his near future. He was rock-hard, freaked out, and fighting a seriously overwhelming urge to slip into bed next to Kat and hold her.

  Or fuck her.

  Or, preferably, fuck her and then hold her.

  And then maybe fuck her again.

  And then hold her again.

  And then…

  Danny figured maybe if they screwed hard enough, for long enough, they could get this weird connection out of their systems and move on.

  Because he was not looking to feel like this much longer. Had zero interest in getting any more entangled than he already had.

  But, deep-down, in hidden places men like Danny feared to tread, he knew, with absolute certainty, that was not the way things were gonna go down.

  And that he was utterly powerless to do anything about it.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‡

  Kat’s eyelids fluttered open. She slowly lifted her head from the pillow, planted her palms down on the mattress, and pushed herself upright. Still blinking sleep away, Kat took in her surroundings.

  She was in a bedroom she didn’t recognize, lying in the middle of a huge, steel-framed bed, covered by a red and white Bowling Green blanket. The room smelled of Danny, which helped jog Kat’s fuzzy recollection of exactly why she was waking up in a strange bed, fully-dressed, at…

  She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

  1:02.

  Had to be afternoon, with the soft, gray shafts of light coming in through the wide-slat, white wood blinds covering the window.

  Kat hooked an ankle on the edge of the mattress and scooted herself over. She swung her legs over the side, planted her feet on the ground, and – once she’d ascertained that her legs were working properly – stood up.

  As she plodded down the stairs, memories of the stunt she’d pulled last night washed over her, making Kat want to grab her purse, head to Cleveland-Hopkins airport, and buy a one-way ticket to Mongolia.

  Kat wasn’t so much embarrassed about the whole femme fatale-esque kiss she’d laid on Danny as she was her simpering behavior leading up to it.

  He’d had her in the palm of his hand – had turned her entire body into a quivering, needy pile of mush with no more than a few hot looks and some velvety words – and they’d both known it. Sure, Kat had taken back a bit of the power when the urge to taste him had overridden all embarrassment and uncertainty and she’d kissed him, but still.

  Horrifying.

  Kat walked into the kitchen and, finding it empty, too, she called out, “Danny?”

  When he didn’t answer, Kat checked the living room, called down the basement stairs, and finally peeked into the garage.

  Danny’s car was gone.

  “Huh.”

  Kat ambled back into the kitchen, desperate for any coffee product she could find. A tented-up, white piece of paper next to a Dunkin’ Donuts cup on the kitchen counter caught her eye. She picked it up and read:

  “Kat, I’m not a coffee-drinker, but I remembered you are. I ran through Dunkin’ Donuts and grabbed you this. There’s creams and sugars in the DD bag in the fridge. I know microwaved coffee kind of sucks, but I figured it was better than nothing. I’ll be back by 2. Hope you slept well. Danny”

  If he’d been here, Kat probably would have laid another big ole kiss on him for this. If she was being honest, she probably would have done it without the coffee, but the coffee definitely clinched the deal.

  After she’d warmed it up, added her cream and sugar, and plopped down on Danny’s couch, Kat reached into her purse and pulled out her cell.

  Ten texts and two voicemails.

  Shit.

  Stalking sisters, no doubt.

  There was a voicemail from Gigi, checking on her, and one from Stellan, letting her know he’d gotten her text about not coming into work today.

  There was a text from Fi, asking how her night had gone, and one from Carla, wondering if Kat could babysit next week. There was one from Pops, who had just recently learned to text. It bordered on incoherent, but Kat thought the gist was that he was looking to have a Scrabble fest soon. There was also one from Giovanni, asking Kat to help him with a Physics project.

  Two texts were from Stella – one asking how she was feeling and the other a long-winded, exclamation and emoticon-riddled one going on and on about how much she, Nathan, and Gia – and the rest of the family – loved her and supported her and how Kat should really think about “following her heart,” “leaping without looking,” and “believing in fate,” whatever the hell that meant.

  By the time she finished Stella’s novella, Kat was emotionally exhausted and more than ready for the three innocuous work-related texts from some guys in her lab.

  The last text was from Danny.

  “Hope you found the coffee. And that you slept well. Make yourself at home. Be back by 2. DM”

  Damn it, he was a little sweet. And kind of thoughtful.

  Better Judgment piped up.

  Don’t think for a minute he’s doing or saying anything he hasn’t done and said to a ton of other “houseguests.” And don’t misinterpret his behavior any more than you already have. He’s a nice guy…to everyone, but especially women. Just because he said he liked stuff about you during a drunken gabfest, doesn’t mean anything beyond exactly what he said.

  You once watched Nina give a passionate, rousing speech about her undying love and admiration for British punk band Chumbawamba after a night of drinking and card-playing a few years ago.

  Drunk people say and do stupid shit. Period.

  Although,
Nina actually was a big fan of Chumbawamba, which only complicated the already jumbled up mess inside Kat’s head at the moment.

  Kat decided to take a quick shower, because she felt gross and it would be a good distraction. Fickle Bitch Brain decided she would use the shower in Danny’s room, as opposed to the main one. Kat pinned up her hair, turned on the shower, and let out a long sigh as the warm water cascaded over her body.

  Unfortunately, being naked in Danny’s house, in the shower he used every day, using the Old Spice soap that smelled like him, ended up being the opposite of a distraction.

  She toweled off, put her clothes back on sans dirty undies (which she shoved into her purse) and headed back to the kitchen. She warmed up the coffee, popped the tab back on the lid, and dropped back onto Danny’s couch.

  As she sipped her coffee, Kat’s inner voice entered into a long, bloody battle with a whole bunch of feelings she would have thought herself incapable of two days ago. Just as she drained the last of the coffee and the Battle Royale in her brain entered into Round 634, Kat heard the front door lock turn. She heard Danny come in and shut the door behind him. A few seconds later he appeared in the kitchen.

  “Oh, hey.” Danny tossed his keys and a few white bags onto the counter, leaned his left hip into it, and crossed his arms over chest.

  He was wearing a navy Nike tracksuit with a backwards Bowling Green hat and looking delicious, as usual.

  “You sleep okay?” he asked.

  Kat nodded, lifting the empty DD cup up with a half-smile. “Thank you for this. You saved me from having to walk up there in the snow.”

  “No problem. Sorry about stranding you here without a ride, but I wanted to get your apartment cleaned up as soon as possible.”

  Kat pushed her butt to the edge of the couch and turned to face him. “That’s where you were? At my apartment?”

  He nodded. “I hope you don’t mind, I took your keys and let myself in.” Danny’s lips curled. “I stayed out of the bedrooms, ‘cause that would have been creepy, but I cleaned up the living room and kitchen.” He lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t want you to have to walk back in there and see that again.”

  Damn him.

  More sweet and thoughtful crap Fickle Bitch Brain was going to use against Better Judgment.

  “Well, thank you for that.” When Danny shrugged again, Kat said, “No, really, Danny. Thank you. I was dreading having to deal with that today.”

  “Like I said, the bedrooms are still all torn up, but at least the other rooms are livable.”

  They entered into another one of their weird stare-offs until Danny finally cleared his throat and gestured over to the white bags he’d brought in. “I remembered you like corned beef sandwiches, so I swung by Stillman’s on the way home and grabbed us some lunch.”

  “Where did you remember that from?”

  “The night Gia was born, remember? I ran out and grabbed food for everyone and brought it up to the hospital?” Danny pushed off the counter, grabbed one of the bags, and opened it. He pulled out a huge, tin-foiled sandwich that had Kat’s stomach growling and her mouth watering.

  Stillman’s was her absolute favorite and she hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.

  Danny turned to face her, smiling. “Extra mustard, right?”

  Kat’s eyes were suddenly full of tears she was too moved to analyze or be ashamed of.

  Irrational, illogical manifestations of her utter disbelief at – and an overly emotional response to – Danny remembering such a small, insignificant detail about her.

  Dumb. And dangerous. But still so lovely, all the same.

  Danny’s smile faded. “You okay over there, Dr. C.?”

  No.

  Kat nodded, fighting back the tears with every ounce of willpower she possessed as she forced her lips into a smile. “Yep. Just waiting for you to toss me that. I’m starving.”

  Danny grinned as he handed her the two bags and headed back into the kitchen. She heard the fridge door open. “I’ve got beer, water, and…” Kat heard some rustling. “Nope, that’s it. Beer and water. Unless, of course, you wanna do some shots of Absolut or Jack Daniels.”

  “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll have a water, please,” Kat called back, already digging into her sandwich. By the time Danny made it back with her ice water, she’d already scarfed down half of it.

  Laughing when he saw the damage she’d done, Danny sat next to her and propped his huge sneakers up on the table. “Good thing I got you a bag of chips and a cookie, otherwise you’d be trying to eat my stuff, too” he said with a wink.

  Kat scrunched up her face at him before taking another humongous bite.

  Danny opened up his bag and slowly pulled out his food. He cleared his throat. Again. It was a tell-tale sign Kat had begun recognize as nervousness.

  “So, you wanna watch a movie?” he asked, eyes glued to the sandwich he was unwrapping.

  Kat finished swallowing her food and then swallowed a few more times to try to clear the sudden tightness in her throat.

  It wasn’t what Danny said, it was the tone of his voice.

  More uncertainty. Weird vulnerability.

  Like he wasn’t sure she wanted to spend more time with him and didn’t want to put himself out there in case she didn’t.

  It was a light tone of voice Kat had used many, many times. A defense mechanism she was an expert at wielding – and spotting, apparently.

  “No pressure,” he continued, obviously mistaking her silence for disinterest. Danny shrugged again. “Just thought we could turn something on while we ate. But if you wanna eat and jet, that’s cool, too. I can drive you home in a few.”

  “No, I’d love to watch a movie,” Kat said quietly.

  Danny finally turned and met her eyes…

  And she drowned.

  Kat didn’t know how she’d missed all of those secrets behind his eyes before, because she was seeing them as clear as day now. And they were taking a jackhammer to the last remaining self-defenses she still had standing.

  So very stupid.

  So very cliché.

  But so very true.

  Kat smiled at him, because it was either that or kiss his whole face off. “I want to stay, Danny.”

  He stared at her for another few seconds before nodding and grabbing the remote. “Cool. Great. All right. Let’s see what we have going on here…”

  They spent the next two hours talking, laughing, and arguing all the way through Thor.

  They were the best two hours of Danny’s entire life.

  Hands-down.

  Nothing else even came close.

  He felt settled, at peace, and comfortable somehow. Having Kat in his house, all curled up next to him under his BG afghan…listening to her laugh, being able to talk to her – no fronting, bullshitting, or forethought required…

  Danny couldn’t think of another 120-minutes he’d ever felt more like himself. His real self, whatever or whoever the fuck that was.

  It was a sensation he knew he could easily get addicted to.

  “I’m guessing you don’t have to work tonight?” she asked, reaching for the other half of his chocolate chip cookie.

  Danny watched her, head shaking. “Where the hell do you put all that food?” When Kat grinned, he said, “I’m serious. There is no place big enough in your body to fit all that.”

  “I know. I’ve always eaten a lot. Really pisses poor Gigi and Nina off, because they’ve always struggled with their weight. Unfortunately, they got my mom’s genes.”

  “Maybe you should focus your research on your fucked-up metabolism. Gotta be some money in figuring out how a woman can eat like a pro athlete and still weigh a hundred pounds.”

  “A-hem, I weigh more than that, and I’m very happy with what I’m working on now. I’ll have to leave the weight loss studies to a different researcher.”

  Danny crossed his arms over his chest and turned to face her straight-on. “What is it you’re working on now?”

>   “There is a neurological disease, Neurofibromatosis, that causes tumors to form on nerve tissue. My research team is studying various gene therapies that might be used to slow down – or even stop, altogether – the grown of those tumors.”

  Danny whistled low and long. “Sounds like important stuff. I’m impressed.”

  Impressed didn’t come close to describing how amazing he thought she was and how much her intelligence and drive had always turned him on, but Danny wasn’t about to get into all that.

  Not unless his end goal was Kat on her back.

  And stomach.

  And side.

  And on his face.

  And-

  “Save your admiration for when we actually make a breakthrough,” Kat said, interrupting his perverse musings. “We’ve been working on this for two years and haven’t had much success. Yet. But we will.”

  “This disease, Neuro…”

  “Neurofibromatosis.”

  “Yeah, that. Does that have anything to do with multiple sclerosis?”

  Kat shook her head. “No, nothing. Totally separate neurological pathologies.”

  “Why didn’t you decide to research your own disease?” When Kat didn’t respond, Danny said, “Sorry, too personal of a question?”

  Kat shook her head. “No, no. I was just thinking. No one has ever asked me that before and it’s a very good question.” She paused before saying, “The answer is, because I wanted to research a genetic disorder that affected children, specifically. MS is an awful, insidious disease, but it typically doesn’t develop in people younger than twenty. NF is present at birth and can begin affecting children’s lives at a very young age. I wanted to be involved in finding a cure or treatment that would make a difference for kids – and their parents. After my sisters started having kids, doing that became very important to me.” She paused. “Imagine the difference we could make in thousands of lives by eliminating, or just slowing down, those growths that affect so many of the bodily systems. The key to making that happen is out there…we just have to keep at it until we find it. And we will. I won’t stop until we do.”