Charmed Life

James Neal glanced down at me from above. Eyes wide, I got up suddenly, hitting my head on the opened cash register with a definitive clank and clatter as the coins bounced around inside.

“Ow!” I yelped. Ben offered me a hand and I staggered upright as the men at the bar laughed at me some more.

I saw stars and shook my head back and forth. My vision returned and I gazed into the grey eyes of James Neal himself. He looked a little concerned, which was good, since I was expecting him to be angry. On account of me breaking into his house the night before and all.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the nametag he held out for me. So that’s where it was. And that’s how he knew where I worked. The black pin had ‘The Grille’ emblazoned on it in red font, my name underneath in white.

All eyes at the bar were on us, and Ben looked back and forth between James and I, clearly confused.

“About last night--” James started, but I didn’t let him finish.

“Ben! Why don’t you get our friend here a beer? Hm?” I smiled forcefully at Ben, all teeth, probably looking more pained and psychotic than pleasant.

I was a mess and all over the place. I needed to get out of there. Fast.

“Sure,” Ben agreed hesitantly, grabbing a tall glass. James turned to Ben, and I made a beeline for the kitchen. I found Josh in his office, deep in paperwork. Josh was only twenty-six, but acted like he was fifty.

“Josh, can I go? I was supposed to get off two hours ago.”

He looked up, surprised to see me. “You’re still here?” I nodded. “’Course. Go. Shit, Alayna. Sorry. Thanks for staying.” I nodded again before heading to my locker and grabbing my old and battered baby blue Jansport.

It was s good thing there was a back door, because there was no way I was going back out there. I entered the alley and made my way to the street, where the bus stop was. Waiting, I glanced around nervously to make sure James Neal was nowhere in sight.

Besides two drunken college guys leaning against the wall behind me, the streets were deserted.

“Hey, beautiful, where you going?” one of the drunks slurred, moseying up to me. The other one followed, standing on my other side. I stepped away from them, ignoring their continued jeers.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Come here,” the second drunk grabbed my arm, and I reacted, shrugging him off.

“Our team scored tonight, and we want to score, too,” the second drunk said, giving me a sleazy smile. “Right, Brian?”

“Yeah, c’mon,” the first guy tried to stroke my hair, but I ducked away.

The second guy was behind me in a flash, and grabbed my hips.

“Get off!” I screamed, sprinting out of his grasp and right into the first guy.

“Don’t play hard to get. We’ll be gentle,” the first one cooed. I tried to run, but they were on me, and the first guy, who was bigger and stronger than me, took my wrists in his hands, pulling my arms behind my back and holding me in place.

I struggled against his restraint, but to no avail. It was times like this when I wished I’d taken a stupid self-defense class like Grams was always telling me to. They always looked so dumb, but I was feeling pretty dumb right now.

The second guy came up close to me, alcohol breath in my face. He licked his lips, and I backed up as far as the other one would let me.

“Hey!” a voice called. Suddenly, the guy not holding me was pulled off his feet and thrown against the wall.

“Dude! It’s fucking--” But the guy holding me didn’t finish, since a fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled back, letting me go.

They staggered up, and after a string of curse words, they both scrambled off. It happened so quickly I could barely comprehend what was going on. One minute the guys were there, and the next they were gone.

Which left me alone with James Neal. Again. Seriously, this guy would not leave me alone. Sure, I was the one who started it. But that was one time. I’d taken a bath in his house and he’d tackled me to the ground. We were even now.

I wanted to be annoyed with him, but he was just so… good. He saved me, after I broke into his house. Things would be so much simpler if he was an asshole. But no, he wasn’t. He was a gentleman, and I’d been the asshole that ran out on him, what? Three times now?

“This running away thing is getting a little old, isn’t it?” He panted, chest heaving up and down.

Looks like we were on the same page after all.

I was breathing hard, too. Not so much from exertion, but from seeing him beat two guys up. For me. If I thought he was cute before, it was nothing compared to what I was seeing now. He wasn’t obviously handsome, but something about him wouldn’t let me look away. Him standing there in all his James Neal glory, dark hair in his eyes, fists at his sides, sent those shivers up my back again.

And this time, it had nothing to do with fear. I was all hot and bothered, and I didn’t like it.

“If I remember correctly, I was being chased by a crazed man with a hockey stick.” I crossed my arms, turning away from him and facing the street.

“If I remember correctly, you broke into my house. To take a bath.” He said that last word with so much disbelieve I could practically see it. I blushed, embarrassed, grateful for the dark hiding the color in my cheeks. “No, you’re right, shoulda brought up some shower gel, not a hockey stick.”

“The bathroom was the only room with anything in it!” I didn’t have any right to complain about the lack of furniture in his house, but it was all I had.

He just frowned at me incredulously. “You’re the worst criminal I’ve ever met.”

“Have you met a lot?” I asked sarcastically.

“Pretty sure you’re the only one who’d rather take a bath instead of stealing something.”

“There wasn’t anything worth stealing,” I mumbled.

It was silent for a beat.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine,” I said, my tone clipped. “And I could have handled that just fine, thanks.”

I was being stubborn, but I couldn’t help it.

“Really?” His eyebrows went way up, and it only made me more annoyed.

“Yes, really,” I retorted. “I know krav maga.”

Krav maga? Could I be any lamer? God, I was such a loser. I heard about krav maga on TV once, but I didn’t know what the hell it was.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“Right… Can I give you a lift home?”

Really? I eyed him disbelievingly, and he just stared back. “Are you always this chivalrous?” I asked bluntly. What was his deal? Why was he so nice? There had to be an ulterior motive. There always was.

“They might come back,” he said simply, ignoring my question. I felt a twinge of guilt for thinking he’d gang rape me. Clearly, this guy was not the type.

“I’m fine, thanks anyway,” I said again, grimacing in what I hoped resembled a smile. I turned away from him, looking down the street, hoping he'd take the hint and go away.

But of course, he didn't.

“Okay… but I’m gonna wait right here till your ride comes.”