Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Drake

I'm wiping down the counters when Lila enters the room. If I thought the break would've helped ease my longing for her, I was sadly mistaken. My anger that those earlier memories had provoked fades to a low simmer at her sight. She's dressed in a clean, white cotton T-shirt and sleep shorts, accentuating her slender legs. Wet strands of blonde hair cling to her neck, dampening the shirt. Her skin is flushed, probably from the shower, but it adds a healthy glow to her that wasn't there before.

"Feeling better?" I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral as I glance at her from the sink. She's holding onto the counter, gently swaying. I'm ready to scoop her up and take her back to the couch if she attempts to deny it.

"A little," she admits with a small smile. "The shower helped. Thanks for cleaning up. You didn't have to?—"

"I know. But I wanted to," I interrupt. Lila's eyes soften as her breath stutters, and it takes everything in me not to go to her, pull her closer, and nuzzle my nose in her damp hair. The earlier memories are messing with my head. Am I feeling this way because of the happy moments we once shared, stemming from the nostalgia that arose when I first saw her, or is this all new? I honestly don't know. All I know is having her near me feels natural and right. More right than I ever felt in my life.

"Besides," I continue. "I don't mind. It was a nice distraction."

Her mouth parts as she looks at me with those piercing blue eyes that know me too well. "From what?"

I don't answer, busying myself by wiping out the sink. Silence fills the room as I struggle with my swirling thoughts. It's a strange sensation to want someone yet still harbor low anger over how things played out. It may not be fair of me to feel this way since I am dating Miranda, but the thought of Lila with Roy still eats away at me.

"Drake?" She attempts to walk toward me, but her knees buckle beneath her. I drop the dishrag and rush over to her.

"Whoa, Tiger. Let's get you on the couch."

"I can't believe I'm this sick," she says as I wrap my arms around her waist.

I inhale sharply as she tucks her body beside mine. Having her this close brings me back to when her dad left for a meeting. I had called and could tell something wasn't right. Mom had wanted me to help with my sister, but I bailed and went straight to Lila. If that made me look like a prick, then so be it. Lila always came first.

Lila was so sick and every bit as weak as she was now. I just don't remember this stubborn streak. I took care of her back then, just as I'll take care of her now. It's not as if I could leave, anyway. There's a goddamn gravitational force that keeps me grounded to her.

Once she gets situated on the couch, I say, "You're probably dehydrated. Since you're feeling better, let's start with ice chips. See how you do."

"The ice maker is broken. We have some ice cube trays, but no crushed ice."

My eyebrow shoots up in challenge. "No worries. I've perfected the art of pounding."

"Jesus. You haven't changed."

"Would I be me if I had?" My smirk is on full display.

Her face softens, and damn, if my gaze doesn't drop to her lips. They're slightly pale but still plump. Kissable. That's the one thing I remember best—those soft, pliable lips on mine.

Fighting off the stirring in my shorts, I recollect myself. "I'll get you those chips."

I barely resist the urge to brush a few strands of hair away from her face as I pull away. She gives me a weak smile, and I turn, heading back to the kitchen.

I make for the freezer and laugh when I open the door. "Found your keys."

Her head snaps to the frozen keys dangling on my finger. "Oh, my God. I wasn't feeling very well last night but didn't realize I was that off."

Laughing, I toss them on the counter and grab a baggie for some ice. This isn't my first go-around with making ice chips.

When my younger sister went through her second round of chemo, she was really sick. Sometimes, it was too much for Mom, and I cared for her, just like I'm doing now with Lila. Who knew my skills would come in handy like this?

"Thank you," she says as I hand her the cup of ice chips and sit beside her. She takes a bite, and we sit there in silence for a moment. The only sounds are the ticking clock on the wall and the soft crunching as she chews the ice.

"You always were good at this," she whispers after a while, her eyes meeting mine. "Taking care of people."

I shrug, not knowing what to say. "It's just … you're important to me. I couldn't leave you like this."

A soft sound escapes her throat, something between a sigh and a laugh. "You're different now, though. Less wild."

My lips twitch. "I'm trying the grown-up thing."

"And you want to do that with Miranda?"

Our gaze meets, and my body awakens. I feel myself leaning closer. I've never been as aware of my heartbeat as I am now. I lick my lips before answering, "I did."

"And now?" Her voice is soft and uncertain.

"I'm trying," I say, my voice straining at the truth.

Her mouth parts at my admission. She looks like she wants to say a lot more, and I want to demand the words from her, but what right do I have? I'm still confused whether these feelings stem from nostalgia or reality. Then there's the ugliness of our breakup and the fallout. And the need to know what happened, why she did what she did, burns deep. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out,

"What happened between you and Roy?"

After learning she had gotten with my best friend, I stayed away, but she has yet to mention him.

"Roy Flint?" She scrunches her nose. "How would I know?"

Her answer confuses me. Her best friend Darci had said they were dating. It made sense, considering what I witnessed after we broke up. Something had to have happened since he wasn't in the picture. But they had been together. I might have been the one to end things back then, but she made damn sure that we had remained dead.

So, what is up with this evasiveness?

"What do you mean?" My tone comes out harsher than intended.

She looks startled. "Exactly what I asked. How would I know? I haven't talked to him since our first year in college."

"No. Darci said you two were dating. She said you two were…" I pause. The surprise on her face is evident. She is clueless about what I'm talking about. Did Darci play me? Both times? I'm unsure if Lila's still close to her, so I must tread carefully here. I don't want to wreck their friendship. But, I need to explain where my eighteen-year-old mindset was during that time. "Together. She said you were together."

"With Roy? Why would she say that? We were never together."

My jaw clenches. I know why, but there's no chance in hell I'm bringing that up now.

"Do you want to know the real reason I broke up with you?"

She shifts to get comfortable, but coldness replaces the warmth in her eyes.

I take a deep breath and begin. "I had told you it was, but the truth is, I felt like I needed to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?"

"Me."