Everything freezes again, then goes into overdrive. “You’re hurt?” I demand.
“It’s no biggie. Some rookie fucked up and dropped something on me. I twisted weird to get out of the way. Threw out my back. Can’t really move right now, so probably not going to be a reliable booty call for a few days.”
I don’t really think, I just put the phone down, stand up, and start packing up my laptop.
“Everything okay?” Louise asks, looking at me over her shoulder. “You’re making weird noises over there. You usually only do that when a book is pissing you off.”
“No, not a book. I have to leave.”
She spins around in her chair to look at me. “Leave? Like, the house?”
“Yeah. I mean, I have to go away for a few days. My… the…” I don’t know how to explain Derek, so even though she doesn’t know so much as his name, I pretend she does and assume she’ll go with it. “Derek got hurt at work, and he has a five-year-old. He’s going to need help. You can’t take care of a child if you can’t move.”
Her eyebrows rise in faint surprise. “You’re going to stay with your new boyfriend for a few days?”
“Not my boyfriend,” I say, shooting her a warning look. “We’re basically fuck buddies.”
“Right,” she says, nodding. “Fuck buddies always drop everything they’re doing to take care of one another. That’s like the first rule of being fuck buddies. You’re nailing it. You should write a fuck buddy manual.”
I glance up at her. “You know what? No one asked you.”
Louise smiles. “Aw, you’re blushing. You like this guy. Is this the sociopath you cheated on Henry with? Send me a picture. I have to see what it takes to melt the ice queen.”
“I don’t—” Shaking my head as I zip up my bag, I say, “I don’t have time for this. The point is, I have to go, so can you just lock up when you leave? Also, if I forward you an email, can you take care of it for me? I’m supposed to send out a promo packet for Laura’s new book, but I’m going to lose three hours to driving—”
She’s already nodding. “No sweat, send it on over. Need me to take care of anything else?”
“ARCs need to be sent to the purple ARC team for Stacy’s new book. I was just about to send them out. That won’t take long, but if you could, that would be great. Can you also print me a few coloring pages?”
“Coloring pages? Like, for a kid?”
“Yeah. Superheroes or Cinderella or animals. I know she likes ponies and unicorns. I don’t know how to take care of a kid, so I’m going to give her pictures to color. I’ll have to cook dinner tonight. Children probably need to be kept busy while you cook dinner, or she might touch the stove or something, right?”
Louise cocks a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve been around this kid before, right?”
“Never mind, just print me a few pictures. I have to go pack some clothes real quick, I might have to stay for a few days.”
“Can you cook?” she calls as I walk down the hall.
I ignore her and go to the bedroom so I can pack a bag.
---
I didn’t tell Derek I was coming. I didn’t text him back after he told me he was hurt, because I was too busy packing and making arrangements. Consequently, it doesn’t hit me until I’m parked in his driveway and walking up to his front door with a bag slung over each shoulder that I probably should have.
I pause at the door, wondering if I should knock. I don’t want Derek to try to come to the door if he’s hurt, but I don’t want to let myself in like I live here, either. I stand here for longer than I should debating, then I pull out my phone. He texted me three more times, probably assuming by my silence that I was pissed off.
I can’t think how to word “I’m on your doorstep” without sounding like I expect a prize for showing up, so I slide the phone back into my purse and knock on the door.
“Hang on,” Derek calls.
“Wait, don’t get up,” I call back. Then I try the knob. It’s open, so I push the door open and let myself inside. “It’s just me.”
“Nikki?” he questions, sounding more than a little shocked.
I close the door behind me and put my bag down gently, heading into the living room. He’s laid up on the couch. I sink to my knees in front of it and smile at him, running my fingers through his hair. “Look at you, trying to break yourself.”
His blue eyes twinkle at me as he says, “Wasn’t me. Damn new guys.”