After another squabble at the cashier, I paid for my own things. The rest of the trip was grumbles, glares, and grabbing the shopping bags to schlep them back to the apartment.
Sabrina shifted the bags, flexing her arms and wiggling her fingers after five blocks, the ten bags’ worth of groceries hanging off her like an avant-garde fashion show. “Why didn’t you remind me we didn’t bring a car?”
“I thought us walking here would’ve been enough to stick in your mind about needing to walk back.” My arms were fine, feather light even with the one bag of groceries I’d paid for. “I can help you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t need your help.” She speed walked in front of me with bags going all the way up her arms. The tear in one of the bags widened with each step. What had started as a small hole enlarged with each step of her bouncy gait. I might’ve noticed it while checking out her ass in those jeans, or maybe I was only a concerned roommate.
The white stone apartment building was in sight. As much as I hated her invading my space, carrying the bags like that, she was going to lose at least one before we got there.
She must’ve noticed how close we were too. Her steps quickened, and she bolted through the intersection with the blinking green walk guy.
I hustled to catch up.
Cars zipped down the street. Shifting from side to side to see between the trucks rumbling by, I could make out her power walking like she was in the Olympics down the block, almost to the front door when it happened. The bag ripped, and she stepped on the cans and went down. Feet in the air, back horizontal, she disappeared behind the cars whizzing past.
I winced and rushed through the intersection, dodging a car barreling through the red light. I scooped up a can of tomato puree that had rolled the twenty feet away from the building.
She cradled her arm against her chest. Gripping her fingers around it tightly, she clenched her teeth together.
Shit, she was hurt.
Ian had already gotten to her by the time I made it within earshot of her. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor? An ambulance?”
Sprinting down the sidewalk, I slammed on the brakes and my bag slammed into my legs. “I saw you fall.” They both looked up at me. Way to point out the absolute obvious.
“Next time I’ll bring cloth bags.” She looked down at her hand. Her whole body curled around it to protect it.
The groceries were sprawled out all over the sidewalk, not only from the ripped bags but from the fall.
“Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?” Ian hovered.
Taking a deep breath, she loosened her grip on her wrist and rotated it. “I can move it fine. It just hurts like a mother.”
I dropped my bags and reached for it. “Stop doing that. We need to get some ice on it.” Panic settled deep in my chest. I held on to her arm, running my fingers down the inside of the forearm.
She shuddered.
“Are you okay? Are you sure it’s not broken? Maybe we should go get you an X-ray.” I turned, tugging her toward the street, raising my arm for a taxi.
She didn’t move.
I whipped back around.
Her feet were planted on the sidewalk.
Her forehead crinkled, and she pulled her wrist out of my hold. “It’s probably just a sprain. Calm down.”
The brass-and-wood door to the building swung open. Ian wheeled out the luggage trolley, barely sparing me a glance, focused solely on Sabrina. It irked me and got under my skin how in a little over twenty-four hours, he acted like he’d known her for years. “This is a lot of groceries, Sabrina.” He fussed over her and the bags, and I didn’t know why the hell it pissed me off.
I picked up the splayed food items and shoved them onto the cart.
Ian kept talking, and Sabrina soaked it up. “Why didn’t you let me know you were going shopping? I could’ve called the town car if you were worried about parking.”
Yeah, this wasn’t going to be good.
Her eyebrows dipped. “Town car?”
“Yes, we have three available to residents 24-7.”
If she’d had bottle in her hand, she’d have probably shattered it on the ground and jabbed me with it. “Is that so? And anyone can use the town car?”
“Of course. Hunter uses it all the time.”
Her eyes were slits. Simmering rage shot out of them, directed straight at me. “Good to know, Ian. Thanks for being a friend.”
His chest puffed out, and he stacked her bags on top of each other, taking care to hang the eggs from the brass poles at the top.
Ian disappeared back into the building with the cart.
She whirled on me, still holding her arm against her chest. “You asshole.” Through clenched teeth, she was raining fire and brimstone. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a car we could take?”
I internally grimaced but flipped things around to cover my guilt. This wasn’t all my fault. “I didn’t expect you to buy enough groceries to feed a marching band.”
She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. “I was trying to be nice. Ever heard of it? Trying to make up for the milk and the cereal this morning.”
“You admit it.” I jabbed a finger in her direction, enjoying the small, petty victory after feeling like the world’s biggest asshole.
Her eyes popped open, then narrowed to a blistering intensity. “Was this all some giant torture scenario to get me to confess? Of course it was me. Do you have cereal fairies I should know about?”
“No, and I didn’t think about the car. Contrary to what Ian said, I don’t use it much.”
A noise rumbled from her throat that sounded like a sound before an animal struck.
“Let’s get upstairs.” I pulled the front door open. “You need to put ice on your wrist.”
“Talk about emotional whiplash. One minute you’re Hunter Saxton MD asking about X-rays. The next you’re an asshole bitching about cereal. Then you’re Mr. Concerned.”
I let it slide rather than continuing this argument in the lobby. The last thing I needed was more attention drawn to us. “From the way you were sprawled out on the pavement, I figured you’d be eager to get inside.”
“And back to asshole. Is this your plan? Run so hot and cold it freaks me out and I move?”
I kept my mouth shut on the walk to the elevator. It hadn’t been my plan, but it was certainly getting under her skin. Maybe it would be easier than I’d thought to get her to move. In a few days I could throw out some other options for alternate housing arrangements I could find for her. She might jump at it with no extra prodding from me. GiGi couldn’t hand my ass to me over that.
For some reason thinking about her leaving sent a disquieting flare of irritation scratching at the back of my mind. I’d slept just as horribly as ever last night after getting home, walking past her room, and taking a quick shower. A hint of the edge I normally had when I walked into my room had been shaved off—not enough for the nightmares to stop, but I’d gotten more sleep than I had in weeks, although that wasn’t saying much. But that was no reason to roll out the welcome wagon. I could get a cat if having another living thing in the apartment made it easier for me to sleep. A cat wouldn’t be nearly this annoying. I sure as hell hoped it didn’t have to be Sabrina. Hell, maybe I was getting over my insomnia and nightmares. Maybe I’d finally made it to the other side and it had nothing at all to do with her. I shook my head, rejecting the thought of her staying outright.