Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Drake

"Hey, you're Drake Gunner." My name is said in awe, but in that cool way that only teenagers can get away with. Usually, I smile and chat, take a selfie, or sign whatever they want. But not today. I have a sick person waiting for me.

"That I am. Can you hold the door?" I hold up the takeout bags of soup. "My friend's sick. Need to get these to her."

"Yeah." The kid darts to the door and holds it open for me, smacking his friend's arm, and his eyes widen. "Does this mean you're going to be around all the time now?"

"Looks to be the case," I mumble past them and make a beeline to the elevator. "Guess I'll be seeing you again soon."

I press the button to Lila's floor and pray the elevator doesn't take long while the kids talk animatedly with each other. I was at the facility when Lila's call came through. Rappel just looked at me when I dropped everything to come here. Whatever. He'd do the same for a friend.

And Lila's a friend.

Besides, I can't let Jake down.

And speaking of the little guy, I barely finished knocking when he opened the door.

"Gun Man." His greeting smile drops as he leans closer and whisper-shouts, "Mom's sick. She's kind of gross."

"I'm sure she's fine, buddy." The burnt bacon smell hits my nostrils the moment I step inside. I toss the takeout on the kitchen counter and take in the mess. Remnants of busted eggshells lay on the counter while dried egg yolk smears the side of the cabinet. "Did you attempt to make breakfast?"

"Yes. It wasn't as good as Mama Lila's, but I did it." He scrunches his nose. "I don't think Mom liked it, though."

"I'm sure she loved it."

"It made her throw up."

My head snaps toward her bedroom. "Is she okay?" I don't wait for a response and take off toward there.

"She's in the bathroom."

"Lila? You, okay?" I holler.

A weak "Yeah" echoes down the hall. I pick up my pace.

"Don't come in here," she says when I reach the room. I don't know what I expected to see, but her gaunt face and wild hair weren't it. She throws up her hands when I step closer to form a stop sign. "Don't get too close. I may be contagious."

"I'm not worried about getting sick," I say, concerned for the woman before me.

"I don't want the Bear fans after me."

I smile. Damn it. I can't help it. Lila still has that sense of humor I always loved. That's one thing I always liked: her ability to put everyone at ease with her humor. "And you're still more important."

Those expressive eyes meet mine, and my fingers ache with the need to touch her. To make sure she's okay.

Jake pulls at my leg. "We need to go."

"Okay, buddy." I step backward, eyebrows drawn in concern. I don't like leaving her like this. It doesn't feel right. "I'm coming back."

"Thanks so much for doing this. I didn't know what I was going to do. I'm not sure where those keys went. But seriously, you don't have to come back."

"I'll only be gone a short while. Rest up."

She follows us to the living room and lies down on the couch. "I'm not going anywhere."

Leaving her was hard, but I found the drop-off point easy enough. Once I ensure Jake is set, I head back, and it isn't long before I'm at her apartment.

I take in the woman curled up on the couch. Tangled blonde ends, sticking up as if she'd been electrocuted. Soft, cotton T-shirt that stretched thinly over her generous rack. Cute little sleeper shorts with ice cream cones that I suddenly crave to lick.

I slam my eyes shut, the memory of how she tastes lingering on my tongue.

Fucking asshole.

Here she is, lying there sick, and I'm drooling over her like some cheating ass roommate's creepy boyfriend.

I push away those salacious thoughts and force a smile that I hope doesn't look stalker- ish .

"Hey, there. Jake got off okay." I walk over to her. "How are you feeling?"

"About the same. I can't thank you enough for this. Jake has looked forward to this for weeks and didn't want to miss it," she says in a weak voice.

"That's not a problem. How is Jake getting back home?"

"His friend's dad will bring him. It was too late for them to pick him up when I called." She shifts to get more comfortable. Her sleeper shorts ride up, showing more of her ass than I think she realizes. God, she's always had a great ass.

"Have you had anything to eat?" I ask, diverting my gaze.

She glances at the kitchen and cringes. "No. Jake tried to make breakfast, but…" She pushes to her elbows as her words die off, but I motion for her to stay.

"I brought you some soup. Why don't we try that?"

She nods. "That sounds good."

But when I heated it and set it in front of her, she took one look at it and gagged. Placing her hand over her mouth, she beelines it to the bathroom.

The egg drop soup looks innocent enough, but considering the mess in the kitchen, there may have been better choices.

Suppressing a sigh, I follow her to the bathroom and apologize. She drops to her knees and barely reaches the stool when whatever is left in her stomach heaves out. I grab her hair and pull it out of her way. I feel helpless as she wretches.

"Guess I should've stuck with the traditional chicken noodle soup," I say, trying to make light of the situation once she finishes.

Her shoulders shake. At first, I can't tell if she's crying or laughing, but relax once a snort fills the room.

"Yeah, I'm not sure anything will work with how I feel. But after Jake's failed attempt at breakfast, I'm staying away from anything egg-related."

When the threat subsides, I release her hair and grab a wet washcloth. "Here. Let's get you back on the couch. Maybe start with some ice chips."

She nods but then shakes her head. "I need a shower."

I hesitate and scrub a hand over my face. The last thing I want is for her to pass out. "You're awfully weak."

"I stink."

"Yeah, not going to argue." That earns me a smack, followed by a groan—hers, not mine. That tiny hand couldn't hurt a fly. "Come on, Tiger Cub. Let's get you cleaned up."

I help her off the floor. My palms meet her body, tracing every curve. Her skin is soft and delicate under my touch. My dick instantly gets the message, straining against my workout shorts. Fuck, that's the last thing I need for her to notice. As soon as she's steady, I create some distance but don't leave.

"You're not staying with me," she says, shooing me away with her hands.

My grin turns wicked. "Still afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?"

"Never."

Still defiant after all these years.

I chuckle. "Okay, if you think you can handle it, I'll wait in the living room."

"I'll be fine." She places her hand against the countertop, her silver necklace, which I bought, on full display. "Thanks so much, Drake."

"Anytime, Lila," I barely say past the thickness of my throat. She still wears the necklace after all of these years. What does that mean? Does she still hold on to a piece of me as I do her, even though she has moved on rather quickly?

I bolt through the door before I do something stupid like grab hold of her and reclaim what we once had. Because, if I'm honest, I want nothing more than to erase all the years of heartache between us. I want to tell her how I've wrestled with regret each day since our breakup. But I swallow those words, knowing they won't help either of us. It's too late.

Feeling the burn of unspoken words, I retreat to the kitchen, trying desperately to rid my mind of the woman behind the closed bathroom door. A confusing mix of guilt and longing battle within me. Why does it feel like I'm cheating on Miranda with Lila? It's just a shower, damn it!

Once the water starts, I get to work on the kitchen disaster. Usually, I hate doing dishes, but not today. I need the distraction. I need to remember what Roy said to me years ago that made me break up with her in the first place and what I witnessed afterward that confirmed I made the right choice.

As the sink fills with water and turns into suds, my thoughts swirl into one giant, forgotten memory. I didn't handle our breakup well, even though I initiated it. I was wrecked. But what happened afterward nearly destroyed me.

"Just pull up over there. It's close enough to the tracks," Mia said as she pulled up to the school parking lot. It might have been summer, but the outdoor track and field was always open. A week had passed since our breakup, and I needed to clear my head. I hoped running would do the trick since nothing else seemed to help.

The car idled as our gaze drifted to the couple sitting on the bleachers.

"What the hell?" The question was rhetorical because I'd recognize that blonde ponytail from anywhere. I'd had it wrapped around my fists enough times. But Lila wasn't alone. My best friend, Roy, sat beside her, seemingly in deep conversation. My jaw ticked. He was sitting awfully close for just being her "friend."

Neither of them looked toward the car. I stayed seated, barely breathing.

"Is that ? —"

"My girlfriend?" I cut her off and growled, "Yeah."

"Ex. She's your ex-girlfriend."

"Thanks for the reminder," I said sharply. Mia didn't flinch. She stared at the couple, who had zero clue we were watching.

Roy shifted closer, and Lila shook her head at whatever he said. But their conversation looked intimate, almost too comfortable. She laughed, not a full belly laugh, but whatever he said made her smile.

I wanted to be sick.

How could she sit next to him? Was I just a stepping-stone? Had she wanted Roy all this time? My hands clenched into fists.

"Drake, you broke up with her. Don't do anything stupid."

I brushed aside Mia's warning as my heart clenched. This was my fault. I broke up so she could move on and be safe, but I hadn't expected it to be so quickly and with my supposed best friend.

They had to be planning this all along. And Roy spewed all that bullshit to steal my girl.

But the burning question is why?