When I Need You (Need You #4)(45)

Since it was Friday night, Calder stayed up later. We listened to music-a reggae, blues and jazz station on Pandora my brother had recommended-as we worked on the 500-piece puzzle that Grammy and Pop-pop had sent home with Calder. A puzzle comprised of kittens wearing birthday hats I'd remembered from my childhood.

So that's what I continued to do for two hours after Calder had gone to bed. I drank wine, listened to stoner music and assembled a cat puzzle for ages six and up.

Crazy wild night for me.

Four familiar raps sounded on my door.

My heart beat a little faster, and that ticked me off.

It was nearly midnight-not an acceptable time for him to drop by.

So I ignored him.

But you don't really want to. You want to fling open the door and chew his very fine ass.

Mr. Persistent knocked again.

This time I answered, only opening the door as far as the chain allowed. "What."

"Hey. Can I come in?"

"No."

That startled him. "Why not?"

"Because it's late." And I'm mad at you, dickhead.

Even through the slight crack in the doorway I saw those blue eyes narrow. "Did you just call me a dickhead?"

Dammit. "I don't know what I said. It's late and I'm tired. Good night."

"Wait. Don't you want to hear about camp?"

"I waited to hear something on Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. It's Friday-"

"I'm in love," he sang out.

My jaw dropped. "You did not just sing The Cure."

Jensen grinned. "I did. And damn, Coach, I am impressed that you know them."

"The original emo band? Of course I know them. But you listen to The Cure?"

"Nope. My parents did. We grew up listening to totally ‘rad' '80s music. Plus '70s soul, rock, folk, funk and disco."



       
         
       
        

His gaze fell to my mouth and I felt it as keenly as if he'd softly placed his lips there.

"Rowan. Please let me in."

Shut the door. Send him away.

"You can't stay long." You are a sucker, Rowan Michaels. I closed the door, unhooked the chain and reopened it. "I mean it, Lund. Two minutes."

He paused just inside the doorway. "Look. I'm sorry. I didn't have any new news about camp until this afternoon."

"And it's bad news."

"Why would you assume that?"

"Because I didn't hear from you all week and when I do the first thing you say is sorry."

"The apology was because you hadn't heard from me. Besides, I'm sure you're familiar with the saying ‘no news is good news'?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with the saying ‘don't leave me hanging'?"

"God, woman, you are such a pain in the ass . . . but I missed you this week."

That gave me pause. "You did?"

"Yeah." He jammed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. As if he was nervous.

A sweet, unsure Jensen Lund. Two helpings of that, please. "Okay, I sort of missed your smug mug too, Lund. Where were you keeping yourself?"

"Occupied here and there. I figured you needed a break from me hanging around, interrupting your family time with Calder."

I stepped closer. The fact that I felt compelled to reassure him surprised me, but I set my hand on his chest briefly anyway. "If you'd become a pest, I'd tell you." I smiled. "Or I'd swat at you. I-we-liked having you here."

"Good to know." He relaxed. "How was your week?"

"Long and weird. Yours?"

"Painfully slow. Emphasis on painful."

"Why? Did you pull something in training?"

"Some weeks just feel physically more challenging. Even when it's the same routine. This was that week for me." He flashed me his dimpled smile. "My two minutes are up. Are you really kicking me out when I haven't told you anything about the camp?" His gaze darted to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "I'll be quiet."

"Fine. Come in." After I relocked the door, I turned around to see him right there. "What?"

"When I first moved here Axl told me no one locked their doors unless they were out of town. Evidently I'm not as friendly, because I've always locked mine. That annoyed Martin especially since he had free access when Axl lived there."

"I bet Axl's apartment was the only one Martin had free access to. I don't believe people in this building-or this city-are that trusting. Can you imagine coming home and finding Lenka digging through your cupboards?" 

"Or worse. Pawing through my dresser drawers." Jensen gave a mock shudder.