Page 53 of Heatwaves

Mom flushes, hands fluttering, while Miguel wraps his arm around her waist.

“We’d be happy to have you, Lila. It’s your house, too. Plus, I’m sure we can keep our hands to ourselves while you recover.” Miguel grins, winking at my dad, whose face turns bright red.

I fake vomit as I shake my head. “Yeah, no. I don’t even want to see that. Plus, the three of you deserve time for yourselves, and I want you to have that.”

“Plus, I’ll be staying there the entire time she’s recovering. I won’t let anything happen to our girl on my watch.” Wyatt runs a hand through my hair as he stops in front of me. “I’m ready when you are.”

“You’re such a sweet boy, Wyatt.” Mom goes up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Lila, you really need to lock him down before someone else does. He’s one of the good ones and an incubus to boot.”

Palming my face, I shake my head. “Gods above, Mom. Do you enjoy embarrassing me?”

Wyatt snickers. “She’s not wrong. I’m quite the catch.”

Glancing back at the nurse, I roll my eyes. “Please tell me I can get in the car.”

The male nurse chuckles as he moves around the wheelchair. “Of course, but let me help you.”

“I can help her—“ Wyatt begins, but I shoot him a look, telling him to back off. He wrinkles his nose but opens the door so the nurse can help me inside.

“You have your medications and your instructions, right?” Mom calls out before Wyatt can shut the door.

“Yes, Mom. I have everything I need. If we forgot anything, I’ll call you.”

Thankfully, Wyatt closes the door then. I lean back in the seat and close my eyes. Nerves flutter in my stomach.

“Seat belt, Lil.”

Blinking my eyes open, I find Wyatt sitting in the driver’s seat as he glares at me. All I can do is stare into his beautiful face for a moment. “What?”

“Put your fucking seat belt on.” He doesn’t bother waiting for me to do it, already reaching over me to grab it and make sure it’s on tight. “After your accident, I’d have thought you’d be more careful about that.”

Waving him off, I stare at the window. “We weren’t moving yet. I would’ve remembered.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” But he doesn’t say anything else as he pulls away from the curb. I wave atmy parents and Miguel before facing forward once more.

“They’ll be there when we arrive?”

Wyatt glances at me, his hand reaching across to squeeze my thigh. “Yes. They’re already there now—even though I told them to wait until I texted them to let them know we were on our way. I think they’re eager to speak with you.”

I snicker. “Of course they are.”

“You can do this, Lil. I’ll be there right by your side.”

Shooting him a tight smile, I nod. “Thank you, Wyatt. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never find out,” he assures me. He focuses back on the road but keeps his hand on my bare leg.

Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into my driveway, and I forget how to breathe before beginning to worry about how I must look.

With the damn cast on my leg, my options for pants were limited. The tiny pair of shorts barely cover my ass, paired with Wyatt’s shirt, that’s almost longer than the shorts. I have to look like a mess, but I don’t really have time to think about that as I stare at them.

Standing on my front porch are the men who destroyed me ten years ago—the men who I spent ten years trying to forget and couldn’t.

I feel like throwing up.

Maybe I don’t have this after all.

When she steps out of the car, all I want to do is throw myself across the yard and into her arms. The only thing that stops me is Oliver’s hand on my shoulder.

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