Into the Blue (A Wild Aces Romance) (9 page)

I woke up feeling like death had visited me sometime after I’d fallen asleep. I would have blamed the alcohol and the late night out, but I figured the brunt of it came from the congestion filling my nose and head, the ache in my throat, the watery eyes, the chills wracking my limbs.

I groaned as I studied my reflection in the bathroom mirror—taking in the pale skin, red eyes, puffy face.

Yep. I was definitely sick.

I gave up, crawling back into bed, welcoming the warmth of my sheets and the comfort of my soft mattress. I needed to get up and take some medicine, make myself tea or something, but I felt like shit and all I wanted to do was just lie in bed, every step making me dizzy and weak.

The sound of my doorbell ringing screwed that plan up.

I groaned, contemplating just ignoring it and weighing the odds of whether it was Lizzie, coming to pump me for information on what had happened with Eric last night. She’d ended up driving both of us back to Bradbury, and the
silence in the car had spoken volumes. She’d dropped me off with a meaningful look I recognized as code for
spill later
.

I had no clue what to tell her. We’d kissed and I’d sort of reached the conclusion that the likelihood of us eventually having sex was pretty much inevitable. I just wished I could parse out my feelings about the whole thing, that I could separate out the emotion and love stuff and just enjoy what he offered—really great orgasms and a lot of fun. I tried to tell myself we could do no-strings, even as we were connected by more strings than a fucking puppet.

So yeah, best friend or not, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to have a conversation about this with Lizzie.

The doorbell rang again and I finally gave in, grabbing my bathrobe from the foot of the bed and wrapping it around my body, running my hands through my hair, trying to get most of the tangles out.

I padded to the front door, wincing with each step. I was definitely going to give myself a big dose of cold meds and then go back to bed when Lizzie left. Maybe if I was lucky, I could convince her to make me tea, or soup, or something.

I pulled open my door, prepared for Lizzie, and got someone else instead.

Eric.

Shit.

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve these awkward run-ins, but I would happily settle any bad karma that I’d accumulated in order to clear the scales.

Eric stood on the doorstep wearing a gray long-sleeved tee, the sleeves pushed up to expose his forearms, his reddish-blond hair messy and tousled. His lips curved, something that looked a lot like concern in his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m dying,” I croaked, glaring at how freaking
healthy
he looked. There was a flash of embarrassment over the fact that he’d caught me in my ratty bathrobe, cocooned in a blanket, unwashed hair—
fuck
, I forgot to brush my teeth. I took a step back into the apartment, hoping that put enough distance between us.

Seriously, why did he have to look so perfect all the time, and why did he keep seeing me at my absolute worst?

“Are you hungover?” Eric asked, his gaze raking over me.

I shook my head, wrapping the blanket more tightly around my body. “Sick.”

He frowned, crossing the threshold in one smooth stride, the back of his hand connecting with my forehead as his other hand held me steady, his fingers pressing into my skin.

I was pretty sure it was the fever and not the man that made me feel warm all over, the sinus infection that made my breath hitch.

I swayed.

His grip on me tightened, holding me steady.

“You’re burning up.”

“I told you I was dying,” I muttered, my voice sounding peevish even to my ears.

“Come on.” He shut the door, leading me into the living room.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I could walk on my own, that I didn’t need him here taking care of me, but at the moment, I was too tired to put up a fight.

“Couch or bed?” Eric asked.

I thought about it for a moment.

“Couch. I don’t have a TV in my bedroom.”

“Do you want a pillow?”

“Please.” I pointed to the bedroom door, grateful for the help, even if it did come at the expense of me looking like this. “My bedroom is over there.”

He returned a minute later with two pillows. I leaned forward while he adjusted them behind my head, a flush settling over my cheeks.

“I look terrible,” I mumbled.

“You do not look terrible. You look like you feel terrible, though. Do you need me to take you to the doctor?” He sat down on the edge of the couch, next to my legs, worry in his gaze.

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ll give it a day or two. I’m hoping it’s just one of those twenty-four-hour things. I felt okay last night.” I winced, remembering our kiss. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t get you sick.”

He grinned. “I don’t think so, but if you did, it was worth it.”

Well, hell.

I blinked, my head feeling like it was about to explode, my vision going a bit wobbly. “Why did you stop by?”

“You left your phone in the car last night.” He pulled it out of his back pocket and set it on the coffee table. “I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

Ugh. Definitely had too much to drink last night.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Wait.” A flash of memory broke through the haze. “Lizzie gave you a ride home. Why didn’t you just leave my phone with her? I see her all the time. It would have been easy for her to return it.”

He gave me a boyish grin that tugged at my heart. “Because then I wouldn’t have had a chance to return it to you.” His voice turned husky, sending a shiver through my body
that had nothing to do with the fever. “I wanted to see you again.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that one, and feeling the way I did, the best I could come up with was a weak, “Oh.”

I waited to see if he’d get up and leave, but he didn’t. He just sat there, staring at me, a smile playing at his lips.

I felt my cheeks heat under his scrutiny, and I burrowed deeper into the blanket.

“I forgot how cute you are when you’re sick.”

“Are you crazy?”

“It softens you up. You get all cuddly and sweet, and it’s probably the only time in your life that you actually let someone take care of you. And as much as I like the fact that you’re the kind of girl who doesn’t need anyone to take care of her, it’s nice to have a chance.”

I opened my mouth to say something, protest, anything, but the words died on my lips and I just stared at him, my thoughts scrambled by the feelings filling me up and the sickness dragging me down.

A coughing fit hit me again as I opened my mouth to tell him he could go. Suddenly he was there, his big body surrounding me, his palm warm on my back. I seriously needed air.

The shaking subsided, my eyes watery, nose running.

Ugh
. So freaking embarrassing. Well, on the bright side, I’d wanted to put some distance between us and cool things off, and I had a hard time believing this wouldn’t do it.
Nothing
about my current appearance screamed desirable or sexy. More like covered in phlegm.

I grabbed a tissue, pausing mid-blow. “You don’t have to stay. I mean, I appreciate it and everything, but I’m sure you have better things to do than sit with me and risk catching my germs.”

Please have better things to do.

He grinned. “I have a ridiculous immune system, remember? There’s no chance you’ll get me sick.”

I did remember. He never got sick. We used to joke that hopefully our kids would inherit his genes.

“It just feels weird,” I confessed. “After everything. After last night. I don’t know how to move forward. How to pretend things between us aren’t awkward.”

“So don’t let them be awkward.” He hesitated. “That kiss last night—”

“Was complicated.”

I grabbed another tissue, blowing my nose loudly, wishing I were firing on all cylinders for this conversation and not hopelessly over my head.

“You can’t tell me it didn’t mean something to you; that there isn’t still a part of you that cares for me.”

I grimaced. “That was never the problem.”

“I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry before you’ll believe it.”

“I do believe that you’re sorry; it just isn’t enough.”

“Then what is? Tell me what I have to do for you to let me in again. Tell me how I can make it up to you, and I will.”

“I don’t know.” Frustration filled my voice, swimming through my body as exhaustion overtook me. “I’m not playing a game here, not trying to be difficult. I just don’t know where this is going.”

I sucked in a deep breath and told him exactly what was on my mind, because I figured, with our history, we owed each other that much. And I hadn’t lied—last night had been about ego, and hurt, and part of me had flirted with Bandit to get a reaction out of Eric, but the truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted from him.

“The kiss was amazing, but then again, you know that. Sex was never our problem. And yeah, it’s really easy to be around you and to slide into old habit patterns, but that was never our problem, either. No, actually, maybe that is the problem. Because yes, I can see myself letting you in again, but I don’t envision this playing out differently than it did before. And as hot as things are between us, as much as yes, I want to go to bed with you again, it can’t be like last time. I can’t put myself out there again, give you my heart, only for it to be crushed in return.”

“That’s fair. And I get that. After the way things ended between us, you giving me a chance is more than I deserve.” He took my hand, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that I was a disgusting, germy mess. “What we had—what we have—you and I both know it isn’t a given. I’ve never found it with anyone else, never felt the way I do about you. And I think you feel the same way.”

I nodded, figuring there was no point in denying it.

“I don’t know where this is going. I’m still sorting my shit out, and I wish I could tell you I had all the answers, but I don’t. If you don’t want to take a chance on that, then I understand, and I’ll back off. I don’t want to hurt you, don’t want to let you down again. But if you want to give this a shot, however you want it, I’m here.”

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her. She’d consumed my dreams last night, my body lingering over the memory of our mouths fused together, of her soft curves and sexy
scent. I’d woken up eager to see her, ready to pick up where we’d left off. I’d missed every part of her and now I was greedy for the pieces she doled out to me.

“Do we have a shot?”

I waited to see how she’d react to my offer, if she’d open the door another inch to let me in.

“Maybe.”

It was the same answer she’d given me last night, but for a guy who deserved to have the door slammed in his face, “maybe” felt like a hell of an opportunity.

I stood up, not wanting to push her, needing this chance to make things up to her, even in this ridiculously small way.

“Do you want soup or something?” I asked. “Tea?”

“Tea sounds good.”

I handed her the box of tissues. “Okay. Got it. Peppermint?”

She hesitated for a beat, a flash of surprise crossing her face. It might have been a decade, but I remembered every little detail, all her likes and dislikes, knew all her favorites.

“That would be great, thanks.”

I walked into the kitchen. She’d turned her apartment into a cozy space, the decor welcoming shades of blue that reminded me of the apartment we’d shared in college. We’d been so poor, both of us working as much as we could while taking a full-time course load, but even then Becca had been determined to give us a home.

I hadn’t appreciated it when I was younger. Not like I should have. I’d taken that side of her for granted, not realizing how lucky I’d been to have someone give me that, not realizing at the time how much I’d miss it when it was gone. I’d been young, stupid, and arrogant, accepting all she gave as standard because she loved giving it, not realizing how much of a bastard I’d been.

I fixed the tea and walked back into the living room, setting the mug on her coffee table.

“Thanks.”

If things had been different between us, I would have taken her to bed, wrapping my arms around her and holding her while she slept. Instead I hovered there, my hands in my pockets, waiting for her to dismiss me.

“Is there anything else that you need?”

“No thanks. You can go. I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t mind sticking around for a while.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I want to take care of you. You shouldn’t be getting up when you’re sick.”

Two spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.”

She hesitated. “Okay.” She nodded toward the TV. “Do you want to watch something?”

I couldn’t have cared less, could’ve spent the entire day just sitting with her and not even speaking, but today wasn’t about me.

“Whatever you want.”

I handed her the remote and she flipped channels for a bit before settling on a movie we’d seen together when it came out and both liked.

I shifted on the couch, sitting on the end near her feet, lifting her blanket-covered legs onto my lap. She flinched at the contact, and I wondered if she’d pull away, but she didn’t. Slowly her body relaxed against mine, until she lay there with my hand on her ankles, stroking her legs through the blanket.

An hour later she was asleep on the couch, soft sighs and snores escaping from her lips, her face scrunched up as she
dreamed. My heart clenched at the sight of her and the memories it evoked. It was strange to have the remnants of an intimacy that had died long ago. Some things felt so natural, and yet I had to remind myself that I’d lost the right to those parts of her.

I lifted her feet off my lap and stood, scooping her up in my arms and carrying her toward the bedroom. Her eyes fluttered as she stirred.

“Did I fall asleep?”

I nodded, my mouth dry at the feel of her in my arms, at the familiar scent that filled my nostrils.

“What?” Becca mumbled between yawns, still clearly half-asleep.

“Shh. I’m putting you to bed. I’ll leave some medicine and juice on the nightstand, okay?”

She didn’t answer me, but she turned in my arms, her body burrowing deeper into the curve of mine, her lips resting just above my hammering heart.

She felt amazing. So fucking amazing.

I carried her over the threshold, through the open doorway into her bedroom, my heart thudding at the sight of her big bed, covered with pillows and floral sheets. It was so feminine, so Becca.

I adjusted the covers over her, tucking her in, another pang filling my chest as she buried her cheeks against the pillow, her hands tucked under her chin, a soft smile playing at her lips.

“Thank you.”

I bent down, brushing my lips against her forehead. Once. Twice.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry, but I have to go; I have my friend’s wedding in Sumter in a few hours.”

I hesitated for a minute, wanting to stay with her, some
twisted-up, aching part inside me wanting to watch her sleep. I shook it off, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other and carry myself away from her. Today felt like another step in the right direction, and no matter how badly I wanted more, I told myself this was enough for now.

Tomorrow I’d take the next
step.