Andria
What did I get myself into?
Her shoes echoed off the pavement as she walked to her car. Cowl walked beside her, his head scanning from left to right, as if he expected Jake to hop out from somewhere and try to attack her. It was such a silly notion. Jake wouldn’t do that to her. They’d known each other for fifteen years. They’d gone to high school together and then they’d both attended Barton City University.
He was in his residency, while she was completing her masters. They hadn’t been best friends, but they’d known each other, neither shying away from saying hello if they ran into each other. It’s how she’d ended up dating his brother Jack. He’d introduced the two of them at a party a year and a half earlier.
Back then Andria was different. She went to parties. Some parties. Not all. She was a bit old for some of the more vigorous efforts her classmates participated in. Back then she socialized too. Even let herself flirt with guys if they decided to hit on her. Jack had done that, and they’d ended up dating.
Then he’d completely and totally humiliated her over a perceived slight that in reality hadn’t even existed. Since then her life had been little more than a living hell until Cowl arrived. But she wasn’t going to let him convince himself he was her guardian savior. Her only goal was to get Jake to back off, to finish school, and then get the hell out of Barton City so she could forget everything that had happened to her.
Unlocking her car, she walked up to the driver’s side. “Goodnight, Cowl.”
The car rocked and sank on its springs, creaking and making all sorts of noise as Cowl got into the passenger seat while she stood there with her door open. Eventually Andria stopped replaying what had just happened in her mind and ducked her head down, looking into her car. “Invisible, but not silent. Is that it?”
He gave her that smile, the one that threatened to turn her knees to Jell-O and spurred other, more primal feelings deeper within her.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you. I’m your protector. I go where you go.”
Andria slumped into her seat. “So you’re going to do what, come to my place, wait until I’m inside, then take a cab home? That seems silly.”
“It is silly. That’s why I’m going to stay at your place.”
She sat upright. “We never said anything about you staying with me.”
“It’s the easiest way for me to ensure you’re safe. Nobody will come close to you.”
“Uhhh.” It was all the response she could muster.
Andria wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of Cowl crashing at her place. He was extremely nice, extremely hot, and seemed to have her best interests—and only her best interests—in mind. But he was still an unknown.
She looked at him, his calm features, and the odd brilliant white of his hair, something she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on someone before. It looked too bright to be real, but she couldn’t find a single root anywhere. Either he dyed it every night, or it was natural. It paired well with him though: the pale skin, diamond-etched features, and nearly steroid-like muscles.
It was dark out, and yet somehow his pale-blue eyes still managed to shine, like they were lit from within somehow. It was almost eerie, and on anyone else she would probably have been terrified. With Cowl though, she was never uneasy. Even now, Andria knew she should be forbidding Cowl from coming home with her. Yet she was actively contemplating it, trying to figure out if the consequences would be worth it.
Her roommate would approve. She was always telling Andria to open up, to get back out into the dating world. To talk to people at least. So to bring home someone like Cowl would buy her some peace and quiet on that front at least. Not to mention there was Cowl himself.
One of the things Andria liked the most about him was the way he looked at her. Not because it was or wasn’t smoldering and intense, spicy, sexual, and perfectly behaved all at the same time. But because he looked at her with innocence in his eyes. He hadn’t seen what everyone else had; he didn’t know who she was, or what had happened to her. All Cowl saw was someone in distress, and he acted.
Andria wanted to keep that. She missed having friends who didn’t look at her with judging eyes, with questing eyes, trying to determine if what they saw matched the real thing. Cowl never looked at her like that. He only had friendship, and maybe adoration, in his eyes.
Shit. She wasn’t just considering letting him come. She was going to.
“Fine, but you’re staying on the couch.”
“Is it between your room and the door?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it will do.”
Wondering just when and how her willpower had evaded her, Andria started up the car and pulled out. She was taking Cowl home. To her house. She was actually doing it. He was in the car, sitting next to her. The real thing.
This was going to be interesting.
The drive was boring, and uneventful. No random car chases, or signs of someone tailing them. Nobody walked up to them from the street. It was a perfectly normal drive home.
“See, I told you I didn’t need you. No problems at all.”
Cowl swept ahead of her, scanning the tiny house she rented with one other girl. Was he sniffing the air? Apparently he took his job very seriously.
“I’m fine, Cowl. Nobody was going to come after me.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they didn’t because I was in the car.”
“Don’t you think that’s stretching it just a little bit?” She pulled out her keys and let herself in, determined to do her best to act like he wasn’t there. Make him invisible. She could do that. A pair of earplugs and then he could be silent too. Theoretically.
“When it comes to your safety? No. Nothing is stretching it, because nothing is more important to me.”
She glanced back at him as she let herself in, trying to understand if he was serious or not. Cowl’s eyes pierced the darkness, staring over her head as he quickly evaluated the inside of her house, and then determined there were no threats visible. As soon as there was room he slipped past her and went to stand in the middle of the house in the living room, surveying it like a dog watching its territory.
“Be quiet, okay?”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I live with someone and it’s late. It’s not polite to be loud and wake her up.”
The smile that appeared on his face was unlike anything else she’d seen before. Wistful and yet idyllic. “Yes, I know what that’s like.”
“You do?”
He nodded, suddenly full of energy, but moving as quiet as a cat as he came back to her side. “I live with my two brothers, Caine and Ivore. Waking them up is not an advised tactic.”
“They sound like grumps.”
“Some days.” He shrugged. “But they’re really good guys. I love them. Couldn’t imagine sharing a place with anyone else for two centuries.”
She laughed, then clamped her hands over her mouth. It must be very trying on his patience to make it feel that long.
“You look up to them, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Literally too. They’re both about an inch taller than me, and they never let me forget it.”
Sadness crossed his eyes for a second, but he banished it swiftly, composing himself again.
“What’s wrong?” She laid a hand on his arm, trying hard not to take note of the feel of his bicep.
“Nothing.” Cowl looked around. “This will do for now.” He stared at the couch for a while longer. “That’s not going to work, though. I won’t fit.”
Andria’s eyebrows knitted together. “You certainly aren’t going to stay in my bed, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“No, it was not. I recognize that to be inappropriate. I meant I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He certainly was taking this whole protection thing seriously she thought, starting to gather up some blankets and pillows for him. Cowl had gently moved one of their couches and the coffee table to create room for him to spread his massive frame.
She was laying them out on the ground when he returned from the washroom and abruptly grabbed her arm, his fingers curling around her upper bicep to get her attention. Not hard, but a tender, almost loving thing.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Andria coughed. “Okay with what? A super-hot guy sleeping on the floor because he said he wants to be my bodyguard for no reason?”
“Yeah.” Cowl blinked. “Wait. You think I’m hot?”
“Have you even looked at yourself, Cowl? You’re gorgeous. Most women would be all over you.”
“What about you?”
The entire atmosphere changed with those three words, as Cowl put the outcome of it squarely in her hands. One of his was still full of her arm; he hadn’t let it drop since he’d taken it, a fact that she was acutely aware of now that they were standing a hand’s width apart, her head thrown back to look up at him.
Her response should have been to close him down. To remove her arm and create separation. That’s what she’d done with any guy who’d shown interest in her since it had happened. It had been too easy—most of them hadn’t actually been interested in her, they’d just wanted to say to their buddies they’d slept with “that girl.” So shutting them out became almost a game for her.
A game that fell to pieces now, the normal responses she’d stored up crumbling to dust as she reached for them in a panic. It was almost as if she’d forgotten how to actually flirt with someone who was genuinely interested in her like Cowl.
He was interested in her…wasn’t he? It seemed hard to deny. They’d met a few days ago, and he was already going to be sleeping at her house. That wasn’t normal, she knew that much. Nor did he seem like he was trying to sleep with her. Instead he was coming along for the ride like she was, letting it take them both.
She had to be out of her mind, but Andria decided to give it a chance. To open herself up to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Cowl was exactly what he seemed to be. After all, could it hurt any more if he turned out to be just like everyone else? She was already dead enough inside. What was one more?
Besides, if he was who he said…
Andria bit her lip as she smiled up at him. “I like to take things a little slower,” she said coyly, using what little lashes she had as best she could. “I don’t just throw myself at boys because they’re big and strong.” She slipped out of his grip and ran her hands up his arms, trying to disguise the way they were shaking by keeping them moving. “Even ones as big and as strong as you. I’m immune to your charms.”
Cowl had gone still as she spoke, a statue in her living room. Had she gone too far? Said too much? Maybe he hadn’t been intending to hit on her at all, just being playful, and now he didn’t know how to react? Had Andria screwed everything up?
She withdrew her hands, but they didn’t get very far. Cowl’s fingers latched onto her wrists, stopping her in place.
“No,” he whispered. “Don’t stop. Please.”
Lower lip trembling she nodded, running her fingertips up his arms, watching the way little bumps rose wherever she touched him. His skin was so warm to the touch, heat bleeding off even into the tips of her fingers, a zone she thought immune to heat after so many years of touching burning dishes as she served food.
“Andria.” The velvety bass of his voice washed over her as he spoke her name. It was one of the first times she could remember him actually addressing her that way, and she realized she liked the way it rolled off his lips. That slightly foreign inflection he put on some words made it sound all the more exotic.
“Yes?”
He lifted one of his hands to her face, and she nuzzled her cheek into his palm almost by instinct. Cowl stepped closer.
“I’d like to kiss you right now, if that’s okay with you.”
Any response she might have had wasn’t getting out past the ball of nerves in her throat, the tendons around her jaw tightening, keeping it closed. Instead she was forced to nod, hating how she was reverting to acting like a doe-eyed sixteen-year-old around Cowl. How was it that he could do this to her, turning her into a pile of mush every time he drew close, touched her, or even did something as simple as saying her name? .
It wasn’t fair. She wanted to be able to mold him, to make him into putty that she could command by whispering his name or running her fingers up the inside of his leg. Fair play was fair play after all. That was the sort of equality that she wanted. Instead she was reduced to this, to a quivering mass that could do nothing more than wait for—
He leaned down, his lips crashing against hers. Andria responded instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hands gripped her waist, lifting her from the floor as if she were a flower to be plucked, the careless ease of his strength adding to her arousal.
She gave in completely, letting him part her lips. His tongue slid over hers, warm and slick, but not overpowering in its efforts. Just enough to tantalize and tease, to make her want more and imagine him using it against other parts of her body, but no more than that.
Was Andria ready to let him in like that? To let Cowl see that side of her?
The answer, she realized abruptly, was no. Not after what had happened. She hadn’t let anyone in.
“Wait.” She put her hands on his chest, pushing back, pulling her head away. “Cowl, wait.”
He stopped almost instantly, only the barest attempt to continue before realization seemed to dawn about what was happening.
“I’m sorry. What did I do wrong?”
She was set down so fast her legs almost couldn’t function, the muscles still wobbly. Gathering her balance, she stood up straight. “It’s not you, Cowl. It’s me. We can’t be doing this. It was good, but…I just can’t, okay? Not yet.” She bit her lip. “Maybe not ever. I’m sorry.”
Keeping her head down, Andria turned and fled into her room, not wanting to look at him. She wasn’t ready to see the disappointment, and potentially even the hurt on his face. How could he know what she was going through, the thoughts that continually entered her mind unbidden?
She didn’t want Cowl to look at her the way others did. The leering and knowing smile that told her they knew. Knew her in ways that only a few should have been able to say. It had left her scarred, and for the longest time she’d thought she would never be able to open up to another, not until she got out of town and went somewhere that nobody knew her name. Screw the song, she wanted just the opposite. To be anonymous in a city full of millions. Nobody special, nobody famous.
She just wanted to be Andria Martine Chalmers. That’s it. Not “Hey, it’s that girl from the news!” or any of the far more dirty comments she’d received since it had happened.
Outside her door she could hear Cowl moving around. He was trying to be silent, but with his size and the old creaky nature of her house, it was next to impossible. Eventually he settled down however, and she crossed over to her bed.
Instead of stripping down and hopping in like she’d done for so many years, Andria checked the blinds to ensure they were down, removed her work clothing, and promptly put on a pair of plain, boring, dark gray pajamas that covered her from ankle to throat to wrist. Then she pulled the comforter all the way up to her chin, uncaring about the extra warmth. It was better to be covered and hot than exposed and comfortable. She’d learned that the hard way.
Try as she might though, she couldn’t fall asleep, something that normally came to her within minutes of her head hitting the pillow. Tonight her brain was filled with images, most of them designed to provoke a reaction within her. A reaction she was desperately trying to avoid, to bury even deeper than she had the past year or so.
Cowl had awoken something within her though, and Andria was struggling to keep the cork in the bottle. She constantly felt herself wanting to rise and go back to him. To invite him into her bedroom. It wasn’t too hard for her to resist the temptation for now, but how much longer could she keep herself locked up before the cork blew and she erupted like a too-long dormant volcano?
Andria pulled the covers over her head. Anyone else would be ecstatic about the sudden change in her life and having Cowl come into it. He was perfect, a gentleman, and gorgeous, a great kisser, and probably an amazing lover. There seemed to be no downside to him.
So why was she suddenly so miserable?