His eyes finally settle on me and he lifts a brow. “Why are you glaring at me, mon petit poussin?”
“What does that—I’m not glaring at you,” I say, defensively, and he chuckles at that.
He lifts the mug to sip at the coffee and his expression changes to one of unfiltered shock. “You made this?”
My cheeks turn slightly red at the hidden compliment. “Yeah.”
“This is excellent,” he murmurs, watching me with a strange expression etched onto his granite features.
This whole exchange is so strange that I don’t know what to do and I shrug helplessly. “It’ll help keep you warm, at the very least.”
There is more color in his face but I can also see the exhaustion in his eyes. “Is there anybody I can call for you?”
He snorts, “Why? So that they can come and finish the job?”
“I’m sorry?” I blink at him, not following his response.
He sighs and I see the laid back mask that he had on even as I had stitched him up, falter just for a second, allowing me to see the weariness underneath. His tone is gentle. “There is no one you can call for me, mon chéri.”
He sits down on the couch and tests it before sprawling on it, carefully, as if he’s depleted all of his energies. “Do you have something to eat?”
I glance toward the fridge, feeling a little awkward. “I have some instant ramen.”
He gives me a look. “No eggs or anything?”
I don’t know why the censure in his eyes irritates me but it has me snapping. “No. I haven’t had the time to go grocery shopping.” Or the money, but I leave that part unsaid.
He runs his hand through his hair, looking unsatisfied. “Can you order in then?”
I purse my lips, before saying tersely, “I can’t.”
He frowns. “Why not?”
I can’t lie my way out of this or make up some grand excuse, so I swallow my pride and say, simply, “I don’t have the money.”
He stills at that and I see guilt form in his eyes. “I apologize. I’ve been taking advantage of your hospitality.”
He goes from flirty to arrogant to polite in seconds and the change is too staggering for me to keep up. “I can give you some buttered bread. You shouldn’t be eating too heavy after that injury anyway.”
“Thank you.”
I have some pieces of bread remaining for breakfast for the next two days and I pick them up with a heavy heart, all the while telling myself that he needs it more than I do. I can have coffee at the hospital tomorrow for breakfast. I glance ruefully at the bag of coffee beans that is dwindling. I don’t think I’ll be able to maintain this luxury for much longer either.
I toast the bread and layer the slices with butter and bring them over to where the man is sitting and as I put them before him, I suddenly realize that I don’t even know who he is.
He catches me staring at him and lifts a brow. “What?”
I echo my thoughts and he suddenly grins. “I was wondering when you’d ask my name.”
I rub my hands over my face. “I don’t—I can’t believe I brought a random stranger to my apartment.” I glare at him from between my fingers. “I don’t usually do this, you know. It’s only because you saved me. This is me simply returning the favor.”
He grins at me and I notice how his canines are sharper, and it’s such an adorable flaw that I shouldn’t be noticing but my brain is running on different kinds of electricity today, it seems.
He laughs at my shaken declaration. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
When I glare at him, he raises his hands, “Damien. My name is Damien.”
The scowl fades from my face as I stare at him in a different light.
It can’t be.
It has to be a coincidence.
But his injuries spoke of being more than just a few hours old and—
My words are soft and cautious. “Do you know a Braden Fox?”
His entire demeanor shifts and the change is terrifying as it goes from lazy and relaxed to dangerous and cold. “How do you know Braden?”
I swallow, suddenly feeling out of my depth here. I’m not scared. I don’t know why I’m not scared even as he unfolds himself from the couch, slowly, his every movement meant to intimidate. But I stare at him. “He’s a patient. He was brought into the emergency room earlier today, badly injured. He kept asking for someone named Damien. I didn’t know—”
It had just been a guess since I vaguely recalled seeing them together that night. They could have just been two strangers for all I knew.
Damien stops in his tracks. “How bad is it?”
He’s looming over me, those wild green eyes flashing with worry now, instead of the previous animosity and I feel trapped by that gaze. “He’s in the ICU for now. His surgery was successful. We couldn’t get in touch with his emergency contact.” I bite my lower lip. “Were you with him in the accident?”
He opens his mouth as if to say something and then decides against it. He’s quiet for a few seconds before glancing down at his covered stomach. The expression on his face is thoughtful and I wait. Finally he says, “I need a place to stay.”
“No.” I growl, automatically. That was the last thing I had been expecting. “Get a hotel. I’m not that grateful.”
“Alex, mon petit ange, just for a few days so that I can recover under your professional care.”
“Go to a hospital.”
“There are people looking for me.”
“All the more reason not to stay here.”
My hands are on my hips as I glare at him and he watches me, that lazy smirk of his unfurling on his mouth that’s made my knees go weak twice now. “I can pay you.”
“I don’t want your—” I freeze as I recall what Mathilda had told me about the overtime being reduced. Damien clearly smells victory and he nudges me, gently. “I’ll be an admirable roommate. I won’t bother you. I’ll crash on the couch. I’ll pay rent, utilities, groceries for the entire time.”
“I—” I hesitate at that, knowing that I had been planning to ask Jen for a small loan to pay my rent for this month.
He lifts a finger. “On top of that, I’ll pay you ten.”
I blink. “Ten dollars?”
His lips twitch, and I blink, unable to follow.
He chuckles now and my mouth turns dry, unable to even think about the amount, and I take a step back. “What—?”
“Ten thousand dollars for this next week while I recover here. As long as you promise to keep my existence to yourself and not let anybody find out.”
I’m trembling at the amount he’s so casually naming. It might not be enough to cover the debt I’m in, but it can help me pay off the payments for the next few months which will give me time to figure out how to make ends meet.
Even as I think that, common sense tells me to pause and think about what I’m doing. I barely know this man. What if he decides to kill me in my sleep or something? What if he robs me of what few possessions I have left? What if this is just a—?
“Before you overthink yourself to death,” an amused voice breaks in. “How about this? I’ll give you a check today and you can deposit it and see for yourself. I’m not lying to you.”