“You’re an interesting character aren’t you, Ms. Munro? In the space of twenty-four hours I have seen you – what did you call it? – oh yeah, ‘slut drop’, wipe me and my assistant out while trying to perfect another stellar dance routine, and suffer what is probably a concussion through the most idiotic pastime I’ve ever come across.”
I could feel a single move of his chest, a small laugh.
“Yeah well, imagine if you were around me twenty-four-seven, I’d be non-stop entertainment for you,” I said, it coming out a bit more snarky than I had intended it to.
Why did I always feel like a first-class f**k-up around this guy? Mmm, probably because you are, Tash!
“Yeah, imagine that…” he sighed, and gripped me tighter and shifted closer.
I was watching the river flow gently south when he interrupted my thoughts, his mouth at my ear. “We are going to have to get you to the hospital, Tash. Head injuries are no joke. Tink has gone to get the car.”
“Mmm, okay. Are you coming too?” I blurted out sleepily before I even realised what I had said.
Oh my God, Tash, eager much? You don’t even like him! Well not a huge amount, not really...
His body stiffened around me.
No, not more rejection. I seem to repel men these days.
I tried to think of something to say. I had made him uncomfortable, and his response had made me so.
As if, Tash! What were you thinking? This is Tudor North: living sex god. He is just being kind right now. He doesn’t fancy you, he doesn’t even know you. Why the hell would he take his kid sister’s clown of a teacher to hospital? You just keep dropping into his probably perfect life like a freakin' tornado! Fix it. Now!
“I-I mean, of course you’re not. Sorry, I just blurted that out, you know, head injury making me crazy and all. I'll go home and just pray that you forget the twin disaster of last night and this morning." I excused, trying to sound breezy.
“I'd never forget about you, Tash. You make a lasting impression.” His arms crossed over mine, securing me tightly, his hands grazing over my clenched fists as though he was debating whether to hold them.“I… I want to take you but, it’s, it’s probably just better if Tink and Tate go. Unless? No, we would have to go in a side entrance and I…"
I held up my hand to stop him and his stammering little chat with himself. My self-esteem was tumbling and I couldn’t be humiliated anymore.
“Tudor, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said anything. Tink and I will be fine, we always are. I’m sorry for ruining your jog and no doubt one of your limited days off,” I said sincerely.
Where is Tink?
He sighed loudly and wrapped himself around me, impossibly close. “Tash, that’s not it. You could never ruin anything. You're... It’s just–"
“Wil! I’ve got the car, sausage. Let’s get you checked out at the Emergency Room.”
Saved by the bell!
Tink and Tate were walking down the hill, Tink with car keys in hand. He dropped behind a smiley Tate and blatantly checked out his arse. Tate did look cute, mind, in his jogging pants and black hoodie, with perfectly combed-over hair and striking ice-blue eyes. Tink winked at me and gave me a ‘ten-out-of-ten’ hand gesture.
Uh-Oh, Tate had an admirer.
I smiled back at Tink and tried to move. I heard Tudor sigh again, and I cringed at the awkwardness of this situation. I bet he wished he hadn’t bothered getting out of bed that morning, now he’d faced one of Tash and Tink’s Calamity Take Outs.
“Tink, help me up please,” I commanded, gesturing to him with my hand.
“It’s fine, Tash, I’ve got you. You’re safe with me,” assured Tudor as he gently began to lift me up, his whopping muscles flexing under his clothes.
His breathing was harsh, like he was fighting to keep himself together. Had I upset him? Angered him? I didn’t know, but I honestly thought I would collapse again. Cause of death: Tudor overdose. He might be moody, but gosh, he made moody sexy. The close proximity to this guy was affecting my nerves, and other areas of my sex-starved anatomy.
When I was up straight, he put an arm around my waist and began walking with me towards the car at a snail’s pace, which my aching head and I very much appreciated. His torso was too broad for me to put my arms around, so I settled for gripping tightly to his jumper. I noticed that Tink was exceptionally quiet, and I briefly glanced around to see where he was. Not for the first time, he was frowning, squinting his eyes and looking to Tudor, then looking ahead and back to Tudor all over again. I was in too much pain to even guess why.