West’s eyes snapped to mine, surprise evident in his gaze. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to.”
A beat of silence, then West turned and scooted over to make room for me. “Thanks, Drew.”
I went through the bathroom into my room to strip off my suit and put on the pajamas I only wore when it was really cold.
When I returned to his bedroom and slid in next to him, he scooted closer.
My breath caught in my throat, and I willed my dick to stay soft.
Think of gross things. Think of gross things.
As West’s breathing eventually evened out into sleep, I found myself watching the rise and fall of his chest, a familiar warmth blooming in my own. Whatever was bothering him, whatever had gone wrong tonight, I’d be here. Always.
4
WEST
The rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the keyboard filled the otherwise quiet office. Well, if you could call the reception desk area at the old hospital an office. Still, I liked working here because it meant I was within reach of the volunteers if they needed to talk.
Thankfully, no one else was around this morning because ever since I’d woken up a few days ago with Drew pressed to my side, snoring lightly, I hadn’t been able to think straight.
I remembered him making me drink water and then saying he would look after me. I hated that I’d drank so much that he had to look after me. It made me wish for things I had no right wishing for—like waking up to him every day or being able to touch him any time I wanted.
It was unlikely I’d be in the same situation any time soon because I rarely drank and I was doing my very best to avoid Drew.
I was in the zone, crunching numbers for our latest fundraising report, when a gentle knock on the desk startled me out of my spreadsheet-induced trance.
“Mrs. McMartin,” I said, quickly standing. “I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything all right?”
Cara’s warm smile immediately put me at ease. “Everything’s wonderful, West. And please, call me Cara.”
I nodded, gesturing for her to come around the reception desk and take a seat. As she settled into the chair across from me, I wondered about the reason for her visit. Had we forgotten something at the fundraiser? Was there an issue with her donation?
“I just wanted to stop by and tell you what an incredible job you did with the fundraiser,” Cara said, her green eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. “It was a truly magical evening.”
A flush of pride warmed my cheeks. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. But it was a team effort, really. I just?—”
“Now, now,” Cara cut me off gently, “don’t sell yourself short. Your passion for this foundation is evident in everything you do.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, meeting her gaze. “This place, these kids… They mean everything to me and Drew. We just want to give them the support we wish we’d had growing up.”
Cara’s expression softened, her eyes filled with compassion.
“Well,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “your dedication shows. And it’s inspiring others to get involved too.”
I smiled at that. “That’s the goal, isn’t it? To create a ripple effect of change.”
As Cara nodded in agreement, I thought about how far we’d come. From big dreams at the kitchen table to hosting successful fundraisers and garnering support from pillars of the community like the McMartins. It was more than Drew and I could have ever hoped for when we started this journey.
“So,” I said, clasping my hands on the desk, “what can I do for you today? I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to compliment me on the fundraiser.”
Cara’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Can’t a person simply want to express their appreciation?”
I chuckled, feeling a little sheepish. “Of course. I’m just not used to impromptu visits from our donors. It usually means there’s something specific on their minds.”
“Well,” Cara said, her smile widening, “as it happens, there is something I wanted to discuss with you…”
