Catching the Hero

Chapter Eighteen: Inferno

My voice was dry with sleep. “What time is it?”

His smirk widened, “It’s almost seven.”

I blinked, still not really awake. “In the morning?”

“No, at night.  You’ve been asleep for almost twelve hours.”

I sighed and lay down again. “I already missed all of my classes today, so I may as well just stay… here.”

I closed my eyes again, beginning to drift off. Hands suddenly enveloped my waist and hoisted me up over his broad shoulder as he stood, and my eyes popped back open.

“Wait, wait! Put me down, I have nothing to--.”

He interrupted me, the laughter and teasing obvious in his voice, “There’re only a few more hours until it’s night again, and you’re already well-rested. You have to go home, or out, or something, because I’ve already contacted the rest and told them that we’re not doing rounds tonight.”

“Oh, good, that means you can put me back on the couch and go call your girlfriend or something,” I said sarcastically, though in honesty, I was mostly awake now anyway.

He laughed in response, sending vibrations through his shoulder and unsteadying me.

“You can put me down, you know. I have legs.”

“I know. Stop struggling; I’ll drive you to your car and you can do whatever you want then.”

I lifted my head and gasped. We were already outside, Ryder walking over the terrain of the forest and stopping beside his motorcycle. My feet hit the ground and I hastily ran a hand through my hair, knowing it was mussed from sleep, before climbing behind Ryder on the seat.

When I wrapped my arms around his torso and linked my hands, I somehow felt… different. I knew it had to be due to my suspicions about Trace being something like me, but I still shouldn’t have let my mind wander as much as it had. I certainly had to be imagining how similar Trace and Ryder were; there was no way their muscular physiques could be identical, and in no way could their incredibly well-built abdomens feel exactly the same beneath my hands—.

Laughter escaped Ryder as he twisted his head around to look at me, angling his body toward me. His smile was contagious, “Are you still asleep, or are you just ignoring me?”

I blinked in surprise, my cheeks slightly tingeing with red, and replied, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He chuckled again and faced forward. “I was just messing with you.”

And with that, the motorcycle rumbled to life and tore off into the forest.

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“It’s storming. I’m not sure we’ll be able to go out in this weather.”

Trace pulled the curtain closed and walked back to his kitchen counter. We were sitting in the house he lived in with two of his friends, both of whom who were out of town, and preparing to leave to eat out at a restaurant in the city. Although I was slightly disappointed at the lack of decent weather, a small fleck of warmth ran through me at the thought that we could just stay in for the night; I was perfectly content to simply sit in his presence. With a sigh, I dropped my purse onto the granite countertop and leaned against the cool surface, watching Trace as he stood beside me and waited for my response.

“I don’t mind just staying in,” I said aloud, and quickly followed with, “If you want to.”

The ghost of the smirk twisted the corner of his lips, and he stepped in front of me. His hands rested on the counter on either side of me, his arms loosely trapping my body, and he leaned down until his forehead was touching mine. His warm breath brushed my face as he replied, “I don’t mind.”