Too Friendly to Date. Nicole Helm

it.”

      Some of her tension morphed into irritation, which was exactly what he’d been going for. “I did not beg.”

      “Pretty sure the word please was used.”

      “Begging and being polite are two different things. Can we talk about this some other time? When I’m not exhausted and covered in dirt.”

      She did look tired. Pale, and there was a weird rasp to her voice. He noticed she got that whenever she’d been working particularly hard.

      But he also knew if he left, she’d keep working. There was no quit in Leah. “You know me. I like a plan. Blueprint. Details. Fill me in.”

      “Right. Right.” She pulled the cuffs of her shirt down, then pushed them back up to her elbows. And then repeated the process two more times.

      He wasn’t used to nervous, unsure Leah. It was fascinating. Something he wanted to poke at. “Where was our first date?”

      She glowered at him. “What?”

      “How did I ask you out? What do you love about me?” He grinned, knowing it would irritate and fluster her more.

      “What does that matter?”

      “You don’t think your mom might be curious as to how we started dating? What you see in me, besides my good looks, that is.”

      She opened her mouth, then closed it and rubbed a hand to her chest.

      “You okay?”

      “Yeah. Look, my family won’t care about that, and if they do I’ll make something up.”

      “You’ve obviously never pulled off an elaborate hoax before. Or seen a romantic comedy.” She made a face and didn’t stop rubbing her chest. “Leah, what is up with you?”

      “Nothing,” she snapped. “Can’t you just go away? We can talk about this some other time.”

      “No time like the present.” He certainly wasn’t going to leave when it looked as though something was wrong with her. Maybe she was coming down with a cold. He was about to offer to run and get her some soup or something when she abruptly turned away.

      “Give me a second.” She disappeared down the hallway, so pale and strange-sounding he couldn’t fight the impulse to follow where she went.

      The door to her room was cracked open and he looked in as she took a deep breath with an inhaler to her mouth. He’d seen her use it once or twice, but had never given it much thought.

      He nudged the door open wider. “You okay?”

      “Does privacy mean nothing to you?” She took a deep breath, then another puff of the inhaler, all the while glowering at him.

      But she was so damn pale and he’d never seen her so shaky. So, instead of backing off like she obviously wanted him to do, he plopped on the bed next to her. “So, the answer to my question would be no.”

      “I’m fine.” She inched away from him. “Please, don’t push.” Then she coughed, and it came out all wheezy and awful-sounding. He thumped her back and took her hand, about five seconds from calling an ambulance.

      She gulped air and he rubbed her back. Obviously something was really wrong if she wasn’t pushing him away. “I’m going to call 9-1-1.”

      She grabbed his arm before he could stand up. “No way in hell.” With her free hand she took another puff of the inhaler. “Don’t you dare move.”

      “Hey, look at me because you’re starting to freak me out.”

      She looked him square in the eye, those pretty green-blue eyes fierce and determined. “I’m fine,” she said firmly, but she was trembling. “It’s asthma, Jacob. Had it all my life.”

      “I’m getting you some water.” She released his arm and he hurried out to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She was still pale, but her breathing had eased.

      “Do not look at me like that.” She snatched the glass of water out of his hand, and when he sat next to her again, she inched away.

      But she drank the water and slowly stopped looking so gray. She wasn’t trembling anymore and her breathing seemed easier. “Don’t look at you like what?”

      “Like I’m dying. I’m not. Go home. Please.”

      She was squeezing the glass so tight it was a wonder it didn’t break, but there was no way he was going home. He covered her hand with his, but before he could say something, she gave him that direct look again.

      Yeah, not much about Leah’s kick-ass, tomboy, tough-girl self was pretty, but those eyes were.

      “I am okay. I promise. I’ll admit I made a mistake tonight, and you know I don’t admit mistakes easily. I pushed myself too hard, but it was just a...blip. I’ll get a good night’s sleep, and I won’t go mucking around in dust without a mask again.”

      She was right—admitting mistakes wasn’t in her M.O. So it was hard to doubt the rest. Besides, Leah knew her body better than he did. Way better than he did. So he should back off like she asked.

      She pointedly looked down, presumably because his hands were covering hers. On her bed. Yeah, okay, things had gotten a little weird.

      “I’ll get out of your hair.” He stood, shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you’re sure you’re okay?”

      “I swear to God you ask me that again I’ll kill you and show you just how okay I am.”

      She wasn’t a hugger, but despite the insult, he had the urge to do just that before he left. She looked so...weak, the opposite of the Leah he routinely saw.

      Instead, he kept his hands in his pockets and managed a smile. “See you tomorrow.” Leaving seemed so damn wrong, but she wanted him to. She wanted him to and him staying was only going to aggravate her, so he should definitely go.

      “Yup.” She nodded toward the door.

      He took a few steps toward the door, then sighed. “You call if you need anything.”

      “It’s asthma, not paralysis.”

      “Asthma isn’t exactly a cold.”

      She swore under her breath. “Don’t do this, okay? Do not start treating me like I’ll break. I can’t take it. I cannot take it.”

      He wondered at the fury in her voice. He was just trying to be nice. Leave it to Leah to be pissy about it. “Fine. Pardon me for caring.”

      She just kept staring at her floor, so he rolled his eyes and finished the walk out. He made sure to lock the door behind him, hoped she remembered to flip the dead bolt. He’d text a reminder to her, except knowing Leah, she’d leave it unlocked just to piss him off.

      Jacob climbed into his truck, then sat in the driver’s seat, shivering in the below-freezing temperatures. He jammed his key into the ignition and then laughed when the engine wouldn’t turn over.

      Yeah, that seemed about right.

CHAPTER THREE

      WHEN A KNOCK sounded on her door, Leah wanted to punch something. Scratch that. Someone. Lungs aching, head pounding, she trudged to the door ready to give Jacob a piece of her mind.

      She didn’t have the energy for this. She was too busy beating herself up for being careless and letting Jacob catch her in her carelessness. He was such a worrier, and she hated the thought of him worrying over her.

      She’d been through the smothering thing. She didn’t handle it well. Or at all. The last thing she needed was to screw up her life all over again because the people around her wouldn’t let her breathe, make her own decisions, be in charge.

      MC,