Nicole Helm - Too Friendly to Date

He nudged the door open wider. “You okay?”

“Does privacy mean nothing to you?” She took a deep breath, then another puff of the inhaler, all the while glowering at him.

But she was so damn pale and he’d never seen her so shaky. So, instead of backing off like she obviously wanted him to do, he plopped on the bed next to her. “So, the answer to my question would be no.”

“I’m fine.” She inched away from him. “Please, don’t push.” Then she coughed, and it came out all wheezy and awful-sounding. He thumped her back and took her hand, about five seconds from calling an ambulance.

She gulped air and he rubbed her back. Obviously something was really wrong if she wasn’t pushing him away. “I’m going to call 9-1-1.”

She grabbed his arm before he could stand up. “No way in hell.” With her free hand she took another puff of the inhaler. “Don’t you dare move.”

“Hey, look at me because you’re starting to freak me out.”

She looked him square in the eye, those pretty green-blue eyes fierce and determined. “I’m fine,” she said firmly, but she was trembling. “It’s asthma, Jacob. Had it all my life.”

“I’m getting you some water.” She released his arm and he hurried out to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She was still pale, but her breathing had eased.

“Do not look at me like that.” She snatched the glass of water out of his hand, and when he sat next to her again, she inched away.

But she drank the water and slowly stopped looking so gray. She wasn’t trembling anymore and her breathing seemed easier. “Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like I’m dying. I’m not. Go home. Please.”

She was squeezing the glass so tight it was a wonder it didn’t break, but there was no way he was going home. He covered her hand with his, but before he could say something, she gave him that direct look again.

Yeah, not much about Leah’s kick-ass, tomboy, tough-girl self was pretty, but those eyes were.

“I am okay. I promise. I’ll admit I made a mistake tonight, and you know I don’t admit mistakes easily. I pushed myself too hard, but it was just a...blip. I’ll get a good night’s sleep, and I won’t go mucking around in dust without a mask again.”

She was right—admitting mistakes wasn’t in her M.O. So it was hard to doubt the rest. Besides, Leah knew her body better than he did. Way better than he did. So he should back off like she asked.

She pointedly looked down, presumably because his hands were covering hers. On her bed. Yeah, okay, things had gotten a little weird.

“I’ll get out of your hair.” He stood, shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I swear to God you ask me that again I’ll kill you and show you just how okay I am.”

She wasn’t a hugger, but despite the insult, he had the urge to do just that before he left. She looked so...weak, the opposite of the Leah he routinely saw.

Instead, he kept his hands in his pockets and managed a smile. “See you tomorrow.” Leaving seemed so damn wrong, but she wanted him to. She wanted him to and him staying was only going to aggravate her, so he should definitely go.

“Yup.” She nodded toward the door.

He took a few steps toward the door, then sighed. “You call if you need anything.”

“It’s asthma, not paralysis.”

“Asthma isn’t exactly a cold.”

She swore under her breath. “Don’t do this, okay? Do not start treating me like I’ll break. I can’t take it. I cannot take it.”

He wondered at the fury in her voice. He was just trying to be nice. Leave it to Leah to be pissy about it. “Fine. Pardon me for caring.”

She just kept staring at her floor, so he rolled his eyes and finished the walk out. He made sure to lock the door behind him, hoped she remembered to flip the dead bolt. He’d text a reminder to her, except knowing Leah, she’d leave it unlocked just to piss him off.

Jacob climbed into his truck, then sat in the driver’s seat, shivering in the below-freezing temperatures. He jammed his key into the ignition and then laughed when the engine wouldn’t turn over.

Yeah, that seemed about right.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN A KNOCK sounded on her door, Leah wanted to punch something. Scratch that. Someone. Lungs aching, head pounding, she trudged to the door ready to give Jacob a piece of her mind.

She didn’t have the energy for this. She was too busy beating herself up for being careless and letting Jacob catch her in her carelessness. He was such a worrier, and she hated the thought of him worrying over her.

She’d been through the smothering thing. She didn’t handle it well. Or at all. The last thing she needed was to screw up her life all over again because the people around her wouldn’t let her breathe, make her own decisions, be in charge.

MC, her friends, everything about the person she was now was what she wanted. Desperately. She was happy, for the first time in too long to remember. Life was good, and she was steps away from getting her family back.

If Jacob ruined that by hovering, by maneuvering, by being everything she couldn’t stand, it would end it all.

Jesus, could she get any more overdramatic? She’d handled a hell of a lot worse than an overworried friend/boss. She wasn’t going to let him be the end of anything. No way. Which meant she had to put on the tough-girl shell and prove once and for all there was nothing to worry over.

The tough-girl shell was a little exhausting after a long day of hard work and setbacks. On a deep breath, Leah wrenched open the door and fixed Jacob with her most furious glare. “Go. Away.”

“Truck won’t start.” His shoulders were hunched, the collar of his coat almost reaching his ears. Cold air whipped in through the open door. “Going to make me freeze?”

“No,” Leah mumbled. She moved out of the way so Jacob could step inside.

“I’ll call a tow truck, have Kyle come pick me up. Just need some warmth for a bit.” His voice was gruff, his posture stiff. Jacob was angry and, well, that didn’t happen very often.

Crap.

“I can take a look.”

“Don’t bother.”

Yeah, double crap. “Just let me—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He was typing something into his phone, expressly not moving any farther into her house or taking off his coat. His ears and nose were bright red.

“You want something hot to drink?”

He glanced up from his phone. “ Now you’re offering me hot drinks? Because about fifteen minutes ago you were all but kicking me out.”

A mix of guilt and irritation and shame propelled her toward the kitchen. Oh, she hated that even temper of his. Because she never could be angry in the face of his anger. It was so hard to piss off Jacob and she got irritated at the drop of a hat.

Which meant, if Jacob was mad and snotty, she’d stepped over a line and the tough-girl shell wasn’t the answer. Unfortunately, reason and apologizing were the answer. She hated apologizing and, damn it, she hated being wrong enough to have to.

“I don’t have coffee or hot chocolate. Just tea.”

“I’ll survive. Here. Found a tow number.”

“Don’t call a tow truck. Let me look at it first.” When she turned to face Jacob, he was standing in the entry to her kitchen, frowning.

“It’s freezing out there.” He didn’t mention earlier, though God knew that was what this was about. Even pissed, he was worried about her.

For a second, just a sliver of a second, there was some stupid, girlie part of her that thought it was kind of sweet. Until she remembered how fast worrying could snowball to babying, controlling.

“I have a jacket. A hat. Gloves. All these magical things to keep me warm.”