“I don’t know, but you have to try and get it down, or some real food. Just try to eat something, even if it’s only a little bit.”
“I’ll try.” She promised.
I was still holding her because she hadn’t pulled away yet. “Padawan no try. Just do.” I said, in a terrible Yoda accent.
“Fine. Drink the nasty shake, we will.” Sara retorted in her own much better Yoda accent, and we both chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s my girl.” I huffed a laugh, tried to compartmentalize, even while her skin was warm under my palm as I rubbed her back.
A ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of her lips, and she peered up at me through her lashes before she quickly dropped her gaze, but still, she didn’t pull away.
My heart started pounding faster as the air in the room suddenly shifted.
In the darkness, Sara traced the pattern on the sheets before she slowly trailed her delicate fingers up to the palm of my hand, making my breath catch. “I was sad you weren’t at the funeral, but I honestly expected it with your work.” She admitted.
“I’m really sorry I couldn’t be there.” There was so much more I wanted to say, but I couldn’t—I could hardly speak with her touching me.
“Don’t be. You’re herenow.” She shrugged, adding sarcastically, “Remember that time we stopped talking for three years?”
“Yeah, that was really stupid of us, wasn’t it?” I chuckled quietly.
“Yeah. Let’s never do that again.”
“Deal.”
Sara hesitated as she slowly trailed her fingers up my arm, making me shiver. “Does that tickle?” She tilted her head, exposing the long column of her neck as she slowly, lightly, traced the lines of ink up my forearm—the floral sleeve I’d gotten tattooed in honor of my mother.
“Yeah.” I huffed a laugh that was quickly cut off when her fingers floated over a small addition hidden amidst the foliage. I tensed, wondering if she realized what it was, or if it was too dark. Her fingers resumed their tracing until she ran out of ink, and then her hands were floating over my bare chest—just because. I wondered if she could feel how fast my heart was beating as she rested her palms against me.
Breath ragged, I stilled when her eyes dropped to my lips. “Carter?” She murmured.
The sound of my name in her mouth.
“Yes?” I rasped.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Always.” I nearly panted. “Anything.” As if I wasn’t dying to know what was bouncing around in that pretty little head of hers, every hour of every day.
But just then, the front door opened, and it cleaved my chest in half when her grip tightened as I quickly slipped out of it, like she didn’t want to let go—I know I didn’t.
“I should go before he finds us.” I explained, gripping the back of my neck regretfully.
“Nothing to find.” She breathily reminded me, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Her wearing whatever silky excuse that was for a nightgown, with her hair flowing all around her like agoddess—me, shirtless, angling my body away from her in the darkness to hide what Liam would castrate me for if he found me in her room like this, at this hour.
“Sweet dreams, pretty girl.” I cast her a long look, feeling hollow inside, before I slipped out of her room, desperately wishing everything was so much different.
I intercepted Liam before he could see which room I had come out of. “You get everything all sorted?” I asked, noting the sort of wild look that was in Liam’s eye.
“Yup.” He threw his jacket over an armchair.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You want to tell me what kind of restaurant emergency requires you to leave for five hours when your sister is sitting in your living room with an IV bag in her arm?” I questioned, not because I was reprimanding him but because I knew if he’d left there had been a damn good reason for it.
He responded with a simple, “Nope.”
I searched his expression. “Liam?” I called after him as he walked around me to head down the hall. When he turned, he looked so exhausted, so defeated. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
