Page 26 of Wildflower Hearts
“You’re a part of this family now, and since I’m hoping you might be around more often, I think getting to know you would be the best thing for Noah. Have you ever told him that you know how to play the guitar?”
She shook her head. “No, I- Hold up, be around more? Why would you say that?”
His grinned and moved his hands to the wall again. “Because I like having you next to me when I wake up in the mornings.”
She glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t talk so loud.”
“Why?” He chuckled. “Cause of Mark and Debra? Please. I’ve already told them if they hear a loud thump that it’s us.”
“You did not!”
He nodded. “I just don’t tell them that it’s usually you kicking me off the bed in your sleep.”
Lyla rolled her eyes. “But I like my apartment. It’s the first thing I started paying for on my own.”
“Keep it if you want, Baby.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Say yes.” Her eyes closed as she felt his teeth pull at her lower lip. “Say yes, Lyla.”
She let out something between a sigh and a moan at the feeling of his fingers skimming down the side of her torso. His hand shifted down to grip her waist. He stepped forward to bring them closer as he bent the arm that rested against the wall. She opened her eyes at the feeling of his fingers slipping under her shirt.
“Elias?”
He looked over his arm, and she immediately untangled herself free to brush her shaking hands over her shirt. “Yeah, what is it?”
Noah glared down at them from the top of the stairs. “Would you mind bringing me some water? I need to take my meds.”
“Sure thing, little brother. Be right there.” Elias shot her an apologetic look. “Hold that thought, Tinkerbell.”
Noah shifted his gaze to her, squeezing the wood of the railing for a split second before he turned and disappeared back into his room. The door slammed loudly behind him.
Frowning, she followed Elias into the kitchen.
The house was quiet when she opened her eyes and rolled to look at the clock on the nightstand. The blaring red numbers proclaimed it was barely three in the morning. She rubbed at the sleep that had collected around the corner of her eyelids and glanced over her shoulder to see Elias sleeping beside her clad only in his boxer shorts. Smiling, Lyla remembered how he had argued for days about being allowed to wear whatever he wanted to bed. She forced him to vow to everyone that he had no dishonorable intentions of being almost naked next to her and that it wasn’t a smooth sexual move. Just watching him raise his hand and state it out loud to Mark and Billy had been enough for her to agree after she stopped laughing.
She was too scared to tell him the real reason was that she had only been with one man sexually. She had been on dates and done other things with men; she wasn’t a naïve twenty-three-year old, but Elias was a different type of man altogether. He knew what he was doing, had been with women who knew exactly how to give him what he wanted, and the idea of disappointing him scared her. A large part of her hesitatedbecause she wasn’t sure if sleeping with him would be the right decision. Fear gripped her each time she thought about it. What if he got what he desired and then no longer wanted her? The thought almost made her hate herself. Of course, Elias wasn’t like that, but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it.
Another part of her believed being in any type of relationship was an unwise decision. Nothing lasted forever. Why should she believe that this would? What if Elias found someone else? Did she love him? Was it too early to think that? She wasn’t sure she knew what love was or what it felt like other than what she had seen in movies or read in books.
Lyla slid from the bed, careful not to wake him, as she closed the door to his room. She ignored the goose bumps that crawled down at her arms. She descended the stairs in a black tank top and matching shorts. Not that she looked indecent, but it bothered her that she didn’t have anything to cover up with in case someone had the same idea. Quietly, she grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it with milk. Her nanny used to give her a glass of milk when she couldn’t sleep. The warm memories brought a smile to her face, and Lyla sipped at the milk in the darkened kitchen, only beams of moonlight allowing her to see what she was doing. Finishing, she rinsed the cup and placed it in the sink. She was slow and careful as she made her way up the stairs.
Hand on the doorknob of Elias’s room, she paused at hearing a muffled sound coming from Noah’s room. Instantly concerned, she pressed her ear against his door, hands flat against the door. It was unmistakable, his low groan of pain, and as quietly as she could, she cracked open the door to stick her head inside. The room was dark except for the moonlight streaming from the window. She could see Noah on the bed, the outline of his face visible with half of it shadowed and tilted away from the window. He was sweating, and she watched him shudder, mumblingincoherently to himself. Another groan escaped him, and she ducked back out into the hallway.
She returned with a damp rag from the bathroom and shut his door behind her, inching closer to his bed. “Noah?” He didn’t answer, and she lowered herself to her knees. Steadying her hand, she leaned over to brush the hair from his forehead. She frowned at the heat that came off his skin. He was burning up with a fever. She brushed the rag against his face, and the cool sensation caused him to sigh, tilting his head toward her in his sleep. She wiped his forehead again. His body gradually ceased shaking. She placed the rag on the floor and rearranged his blankets to cover him. His chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. She tucked the sheets in around his torso, mindful of the bandages and his cast.
Noah remained asleep. She was content for a few minutes to watch him. He looked just like the first time she saw him: young, helpless… Cute. She scolded herself. No, she couldn’t think that way.
He mumbled again, and she froze at the sound of her name. Eyes wide, she noticed his fingers twitching, and unable to help herself, she inched her fingers toward his hand. She held her breath and slipped her hand into his, watching his long fingers curl and tighten around her own.
Her eyes lingered on their joined hands. Her gaze rose, the robust features of his face magnified by the moonlight.
“Lyla.” His fingers twitched, his breath catching, as a muscle spasmodically jerked in his jawline. “Not mine.”
She covered her mouth with her free hand. Trying to control her emotions, she looked away and rubbed the tears that had gathered around her eyes. She paused at the feeling of his grip tightening around her hand.
After a brief, torturous second, he relaxed but didn’t let go. She raised her free hand again to brush her fingertips across hisforehead. “Noah, let go.” He mumbled something she couldn’t make out clearly. “Noah, you have to let go.” She was close to him now, almost leaning against the pillow supporting his head. “It’s time to let me go now.”
His grip went lax, and she rubbed her wrist. Smiling, she looked him and froze when their eyes met.
“What are you doing in my room?”
