Chapter 27: *CHAPTER 27*

"What are you doing?" I ground out, breathless with the shock of being swung through the air and unceremoniously shoved against his chest.

"We both know you won't be able to walk right now, let's not make this harder than it has to be." He was right, so I smashed my lips together to keep from protesting.

Even recovering from--passing out, fainting, a mental break-- whatever it was I'd just gone through, it was still a shock to my senses to be shoved up against his hard chest the way I was. His chest was flush against the side of my body, and he’d hoisted me up as easily as if I weighed nothing at all. Shoved up against him as I was, his heat seeped through my skin causing sparks to sizzle in my blood, under my skin.

I shifted in his grip in an attempt to alleviate some of the heat, but it was no use. Against his hard body the way that I was, memories from my dreams last night resurfaced for what had to be the hundredth time. Images of his lips trailing down my neck, my chest. As I shifted against him, body sliding against his, I could have sworn I felt him stop breathing for a moment.

He pushed through the back service entrance, gait swinging as he went. I wasn't sure how he managed to maneuver the front door open while holding onto me with both arms, but we were suddenly out into the baking heat of the parking lot, the sunshine nice on my clammy skin and I was grateful for the heat as an excuse for the flush that I was sure had overtaken my cheeks.

"Text me!" Lauren called out behind us before the door shut blocking out anything else she might have said.

Walking through the parking lot, and as close to him as I was—my face practically smooshed up against his neck, Malcolm’s scent tickled my nose—the smell of his clean t-shirt mixed with the spicy scent of his skin was doing things to my pulse, overwhelmingly so. That mixed with the scorching bands of heat that were his hands across my skin had clouded my mind to the point that I couldn’t think straight. Nobody had ever made me feel this way before and it was disconcerting that it was because of Malcolm.

The familiar sight of his black pickup truck greeted us as we made it to the edge of the parking lot. We only got a few strange looks from people walking past. Malcolm weaved his way through the cars, clicking the button on his truck to unlock it. I wasn't sure how he opened the passenger door, but as soon as the cab was open I was plopped into a seat.

I was more exhausted than I did after working a double shift at the cafe. I slouched in the front seat without complaint, not even bothering to swipe at the cold sweat I could feel beading on my forehead.

Him pushing me away from his body was both a relief and a disappointment all at once. A disappointment because I already missed the feel of his skin, the hard shift of his muscles against me. A relief because I knew I shouldn’t be feeling that way about him. Not at all. Whatever was going on with the Bond was really starting to mess with my head.

Malcolm stared down at me as I settled into the seat. He leaned on the doorway of the truck, lips pursed, and head cocked to the side. Just watching me. I wanted to tell him to stop staring at me like that, that it was doing strange things to by pulse. Overheating my blood.

“You okay?” He asked, eyes narrowing as they trailed over my body looking for injury if I had to guess.

Of all the crazy things that had happened in the last twenty minutes, I think Malcolm’s concern over my wellbeing had to top the list in the laughably absurd. I swallowed hard, trying to even my breathing, “I’ve ever passed out before, so that’s a first. Do you think it’s because of the Curse?”

He raised a scarred eyebrow, “I have no idea. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s happened so far.”

“That’s for sure.” The Bond pulsed between us again, sending another wave of heat through me. I was pretty sure he felt it too, if his eyes were any indication. His green eyes had flashed, his pupils overtaking the color until they were nearly black. His eyes dipped to my lips and my breath caught in my throat. There was another tug at the Bond and I had to clutch onto the truck’s leather seats to keep myself from throwing myself at him.

That would be a very, very, very bad idea. I didn’t even like him. And he didn’t like me. Giving into whatever pull that was drawing us together would just lead to regrets when the Curse and Bond were broken.

His own grip on the door of the truck tightened as if it were struggle for him to stay in place too,“What I'm most concerned about is what you saw while you were unconscious."

I grimaced as the images I'd seen of George made another appearance in my head. Those things had been too weird, too vivid to be something my mind had just conjured up. I wriggled in the seat trying to adjust myself, sliding across the pleather as I pushed thoughts of tackling Malcolm to the ground and having my way with him in the parking lot in a very public way. The fact that he was watching me like a predator watches its prey wasn’t helping me suppress those thoughts. Not at all.

"You saw that too?" I asked.

"I wasn't trying to," he frowned, "Your mind was pretty open when it happened. You pretty much shouted it down the Bond."

"Do you think that really happened? To George?" The thought of those being George's final moments had hot tears clogging up the back of my throat that I quickly shoved away. "Or is it possible that it was just some weird...dream?"

Malcolm considered it for a moment, before drawing himself up from the truck, closing the door on me. A moment later, he pulled open the driver's door and slid in, a thoughtful look overtaking his face for once instead of the usual cocky smirk.

"What's that face for?"

He glanced over at me before shifting the truck into gear, sliding his designer-looking sunglasses over his nose. Artfully ignoring me, he slid his arm behind my headrest as he backed out of the parking space.

"Put your seatbelt on," he commanded, shifting the car into drive.

I huffed out a sigh working against my tired body to get the seatbelt around me. When it had clicked into place I drooped back into the seat again, swallowing hard around a dry throat. "You're not really taking me to a doctor are you?"

It took him a moment longer to answer than it should have, hesitating, "No."

"Good. Where are we going then?"

"We're going to see Richard."