Bitter Bite by Erin M. Leaf Page A

sometime in the past fifty years. The old wallpaper was peeling off
in strips under the handrail, and not all of the lights worked, but her
neighbors were friendly. She felt safe here. Or rather, I used to feel
safe here. I have the feeling I’m leading the wolf right into my den.
    “Where’s your apartment? Is it on this side of the building?”
Gideon stopped to hitch the other man higher up on his shoulder. His muscles
flexed as he moved.
    Hannah tore her gaze away from his
arms. “Sorry, I’m on the third floor.” The stairs were old and creaky. She
started up, hoping Gideon would be able to follow her with Alaric over his
shoulder. It couldn’t be easy to haul a big man like that up three flights. She
ran her hand along the railing, wondering once again why the owner had painted
it pea green.
    “I know what floor you’re on,” Gideon said quietly.
    She blushed. “Oh.”
    “I peeked at the address on your job application at the bar,” he said,
not even winded as they rounded the second floor landing. “I wanted to be sure
you lived in a safe area.”
    She huffed. “Two blocks from a gay bar? That’s not safe. That’s
cheap.” She started up the last flight. “My apartment is on the other side of
the building,” she added when she remembered she hadn’t answered his question.
    He snorted. “You’re two blocks from where I spend most of my time.
One block from my gym. Three blocks from my apartment. You’re safe here because
you’re close to me.”
    Hannah almost tripped on the stairs. “I didn’t know you were
keeping tabs on my whereabouts.” She didn’t know what to think about that. Is
it creepy, or cool? she wondered, rubbing her finger along the sharp edge
of her apartment key. The bumps flicked her fingernail and she made herself
stop. Fidgeting never solved anything.
    “I worry about you.”
    Okay, it’s cool. Hannah was strangely touched by his care. She reached the third
floor landing and pushed open the heavy door, then held it for him. “Careful,”
she warned as she watched Alaric’s head barely clear the jamb.
    “Even if I knocked him into the wall, he wouldn’t break,” Gideon
said dryly, following her down the hall. He stepped lightly along the worn
linoleum. “He’s got a hard skull. And he deserves a few smacks, anyway.”
    “He didn’t really do anything to me.” Hannah paused, flicking her
key against her thumbnail again.
    “Oh yes, he did,” Gideon said. “Kissing you was wrong.”
    But I liked it. Hannah frowned. “You’re not the
boss of me, Gideon. Maybe I wanted to kiss him.”
    Gideon arched an eyebrow at her.
    She flushed and walked to her door, not dignifying his look with
an answer. I liked it, but I wish it had
been Gideon doing the kissing . Not that she’d admit that aloud. It took her
three tries to get the key to work properly. “Sorry, it’s not fancy.” She
pushed inside and turned on the lamp near the door. The windows at the far end
of the room stretched from the floor to the ceiling and she walked over to pull
the drapes closed against the winking lights of the buildings. She loved her
view of the city. That’s what made her tiny little studio apartment worth it
for her, but she truly didn’t have a lot of space. With two large men in her
place, it felt even smaller than usual.
    “Can I set him on your sofa?” Gideon asked.
    She hurried over and pushed pillows to one side. “Sure.”
    Gideon leaned down and let Alaric slide over his arm. “Whew. He’s
not a lightweight.” He arranged Alaric’s head on the pillows she’d just
plumped. “He looks so innocent when he’s asleep.” He laughed bitterly. “It’s a
pity he’s an asshole.”
    “You don’t even really know him.” Hannah had trouble imagining
Gideon being so uncharitable. This was the man who’d patiently helped her write
her term paper? Who’d encouraged his students to join charitable clubs and help
the homeless?
    “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen,”