Accidentally His

Accidentally His By Shawn Lane Chapter 1 Kirk Matheson tapped on his steering wheel in time to the music blaring from his car radio. He pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine. The time on the car digital clock read 6:18 A.M. He turned off the radio and got out of his car to wait for the bus with the rest of the passengers. A handful stood near the curb waiting for the commuter bus to arrive. He’d been riding the bus into work for a few months now, hoping to make his little compact car last for another year before he’d have to get a new one. It had hit one hundred thousand miles earlier that year. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ride the bus every day due to the demands of his job, but he managed two or three times a week if he didn’t have to travel with his boss. Kirk was starting to find his job somewhat tedious. He was only twenty-eight and had little time for any sort of social life. He hadn’t wanted to be someone’s assistant as a career, even a decent paid one. On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly ambitious enough to go back to school and learn what he needed to become somebody else’s boss. It was all so irritating. The bus had just crossed the railroad tracks up ahead and would be stopping in front of them in just a couple of minutes. He eyed the others gathered waiting. He’d become familiar enough with them to know where on the bus they usually chose to sit and so they were no threat to his own chosen seat. But there was a middle-aged woman he didn’t recognize, also waiting in the group. If she sat where Kirk liked to sit, he supposed he’d have to live with it and make sure he arrived earlier the next time. The bus stopped and he allowed the others to enter through the doors ahead of him, watching the woman and hoping she would bypass the second seat on the left. He tried not to exhale too loudly when she passed his coveted seat and kept going to the back of the bus. Stupid, really. But he did like that seat and looking at the back of the head of the rather nerdy-looking guy in the first seat. Kirk passed the guy, noticing he had his little notebook computer on his lap as usual. He slid into the seat behind him. Kirk didn’t know his nerd’s name. Or even when he had started to think of him as his. Hell, the dude never even glanced his way when Kirk got on the bus or walked by him. He just sat there, punching keys on the laptop, black ear buds stuck firmly into his little pale pink ears. Shaking his head, Kirk reached for his own distraction from the drive, his iPod. Eventually, he’d doze on the forty minute ride into work—should only take about thirty minutes but the bus was slow and made stops. First, he took a moment to stare at his nerd’s creamy neck. It was perfection, really. Not a flaw to be found, at least that Kirk could see. He kept his chocolate brown hair trimmed quite short in a straight line, revealing much of that peaches and cream skin. Kirk sighed. He only wished the guy didn’t grease back his hair. He had this feeling the nerd’s hair was a mass of curls if it hadn’t been straightened and slicked back. Before noticing this guy on the bus, Kirk didn’t even know guys still greased their hair. Moving his gaze reluctantly from the perfect neck, he glanced at his nerd’s ears. And really, he did feel bad about thinking of him as his nerd. But what was he supposed to call him? When he mentioned him to his best friend he referred to him as MN, my nerd. He wondered what the man would look like without the wire-rimmed glasses. Kirk didn’t even know his eye color. Kirk stuck his ear buds in his ears, turned on his iPod and looked out the window. It had started to rain in the ten minutes or so since the bus left the stop. Which made Kirk very glad his boss would be working from home today and he could take the bus in. Southern California freeways in a rainstorm were just a nightmare. Determined to put his crush out of his mind, at least for a little while, Kirk closed his eyes. He jolted awake. Not sure how long he’d dozed, he looked out the window. It was pouring now and the windows were fogged up, but it looked like they were off the freeway and on the surface streets now. About to turn away, Kirk froze. Wiping the fog away with the sleeve of his jacket, he could just make out a car next to the bus starting to fishtail. “Oh, s**t,” he said out loud. “What?” the lady across the aisle from him asked. “Car—” The car, a Mustang he thought, slammed into his side of the bus with enough impact to cause his fellow passengers to scream. His teeth clacked together. It spun around clockwise, slid right back toward them, hitting another car, and going airborne as it went. Kirk’s heart slammed against his ribs. He should do something, he didn’t know what, but he watched in horror as the Mustang sailed into the side of the bus near the top. People were screaming and flying around him as the bus tilted and flipped over onto its side. He tried to grip the seat and then the world went dark.