Read Miss Adventure for Free Online

chicken to tell him to get the hell out. I don’t want to spend the night alone in my apartment when some criminal has my keys along with my license telling him exactly where I live. What could I possibly do to defend myself? I have no weapons or fighting skills. I can’t even think under pressure. I’ve heard that in times of great stress people revert to doing whatever activities come most naturally to them. But how on earth would watching reruns of Scarecrow and Mrs. King help me in a home invasion situation?
    I need Jack tonight, but in a strictly utilitarian sense.
    “Never mind,” I finally say on a sigh, giving up trying to explain myself or salvage my dignity. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to have sex with you.”
    Jack eyes me suspiciously.
    “But I want the pants.”
    Apparently, the threat of my having sex with him worked wonders. He hands the pants over without another word.
     
    * * * * *
    I am happy to say I have grown accustomed to spending time in my bed all by myself. Since Keith left, I’ve redecorated to my heart’s delight. My bedroom palace now fills me with a contented warmth that spreads from my toes to the tips of my hair.
    Still, it rankles when a rough and ripped adventurer sits awake on my couch in the other room. Makes the beautiful bed seem like such a waste.
    Plus, being alone makes it easier to think, and I don’t want to think. Reflecting on the day is making me restless. And not because I regret how I acted on the mountain. I’m sure that will come later. But something Jack said keeps pinging around in my mind like a pinball that just won’t quit. I’ve got to get to the bottom—
    Sha-clink.
    I sit bolt upright on the bed. That’s the key in the door! Someone is trying my key in the door! I run out of the bedroom to find Jack standing still, silent and alert, like a crocodile waiting out its prey. Why isn’t he taking action? Doesn’t he realize this is the perfect time to strike? I run through the hallway-like kitchen to the front door. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jack lunge to stop me, but the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living room blocks him. I get to the front door and wrench it open!
    “AAAAHHH!” What am I doing!?!?
    A guy wearing black jeans and a dark blue sweat shirt jerks up from where he’s bent to the keyhole. We stare at each other for a millisecond, then using my hands on each jamb to brace myself, I do the first thing I think of.
    I head butt him.
    Smack!
    White light! White light! White light! THAT REALLY HURT! I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt the butter! I collapse. As I go down, someone steps on me.
    When my vision clears somewhat, I see the criminal guy sprawled unconscious on the cement walkway outside my door. His chin sports a round, red mark about the diameter of a coffee mug.
    I guess I missed.
    I squint at Jack. He’s curls one fist into the other palm, rubbing his knuckles. Wow. Did he punch the guy out and save my ass? “Are you hurt?” I ask him.
    “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
    I wrinkle my forehead and look down at the passed-out guy. “Trying to get him,” I say. I look more closely. “His clothes don’t match.”
     
    * * * * *
    The cops listen to Jack. Hell, by now they’re probably all canasta partners. Then the cops take the bad guy away. I get back my wallet but Sugar is already history.
    Jack spends another ten minutes rubbing a clear goo on my forehead and asking me to count his fingers. Then he starts asking me state capitols.
    “Carson Freaking City. Okay? Jack, I’m fine. Really. You can go.”
    “Okay,” he says and gets up.
    As he heads for the door, I can scarcely believe it’s all over. I pick up his tube of arnica and lope across the living room. “You forgot your goo.”
    Jack turns to look at me. He looks at my forehead, then back to my eyes. “Just take it, Lisa. You’ll need it more than I will.”
    Then I watch as he walks out the front door and closes