A Slave to Broken Hearts (A Slave to Love Sequel)

Chapter 43: Intruder

"Newbie, you should go home," Mike said, eyebrows high as he watched me sniffle and cough, trying to wipe the table down from its stubborn coffee stains.

"I can't," I said, breathing heavy from scrubbing the table and from my partially blocked nose reducing my air flow. "I'm here till closing."

"No, you're not. I'll cover you and stay for closing, you can go clock out now," he said, arms folded over his chest, pinning me with such a stern look I was reminded of my mom.

"But--"

"No 'buts'. Go home, Kiana. You need the rest," he insisted, "And besides, you're grossing out the customers and that's not going to fill the tip jar."

I chuckled, then promptly had a coughing fit. "Okay, okay. I'm going. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I fully expect you to make it up to me at a later date," he said, taking over my table with a smirk. "How does working my Monday morning shift sound?"

I made a face at him. So much for a selfless show of concern. "Peachy."

"Thanks, you're a pal," he said with a sly grin, flicking his rag at me. "Now get out of here before you get me sick too."

Creaking out another 'thank you', I headed to my locker to gather my stuff and left, leaving him to finish up the last few cleaning tasks and take care of the few stragglers still enjoying their coffee and treats. Small miracles abounded this evening, as I only had to wait five minutes for the bus to arrive to take me home. Had I missed it, I would have had to wait another thirty minutes for the next one and standing at the bus stop at night for an hour with mosquitoes while sick was not my idea of a great time.

Taking my seat on the bus, enjoying the fresh air conditioned air, I leaned back and got comfortable. Between the darkness of the bus, the fresh air, and the lull of the smooth ride, I was almost passed out by the time I reached my apartment. Having to rub the exhaustion from my eyes, I stumbled off the bus and positively dragged my heavy body to my building, ever grateful again that we had an elevator to take some of the brunt of effort to get upstairs.

By the time I got to the door I had decided screw the shower; I was grabbing a glass of water, my packet of cough drops that was buried somewhere in my new dresser, and hitting the hay. 

The apartment was dark when I opened the door, and I slapped the light switch by the doorway, figuring maybe Katie was out and that's why it was near pitch black in here. Dimly, my brain registered the tv was on but my head was so foggy with congestion I could be forgiven for making that mistake. Only when the apartment flooded with light did I realize what exactly was going on.

Katie, horizontal on the couch.

A guy, also horizontal on the couch, under her.

They sprung apart like shrapnel while I gawked at the scene before me.

"Kiana!" she exclaimed, hastily adjusting her shirt, cheeks a blazing red. "You're home early!"

"Yeah, Mike sent me home because I'm sick," I said, eyes sliding over to her entertainment for the evening. Taking in the male form on the couch, I choked, which prompted a coughing fit. "Noah?!"

"Hey," he said, a matching blush across his face, raising his hand to wave.

Somewhere in the middle of my coughing fit, my initial shock wore off and I could barely catch my breath as I struggled to laugh and cough at the same time. I guess when they realized just how fucking funny I found this whole situation, they joined in, but nonetheless still looked insanely embarrassed at being caught in such a precarious position.