Chapter 4

Connor

I drag myself down the hallway and blindly open the first door I find and crash onto the huge bed Evelyn shared with her perfect smiling man.

I’m too tired to move. All the nervous energy I had when I woke a couple hours ago has worn off. To top it off, my chest hurts like a bitch and thanks to the amount of messing around we did, another area of my body is robbing blood from my more vital organs.

I curse into the empty room, listening to the storm outside the shuttered windows. It was beyond stupid to flirt so much, let alone make out with her like a horny teenager. Given my injury and situation, I’m a jerk for even considering screwing her, but shit, she was as into it as much as I was and she’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.

I can still taste her on my lips. Feel her soft skin. I can’t imagine how it would feel to do half the things I want to do with her, but even if I wasn’t still recovering, taking it any further than a kiss is pointless. She’s already asking questions and making connections. And because I’m wildly attracted to her, I’m letting my guard down. And making mistakes I can’t afford to make.

Flirting and having fun playing house is getting too risky. She’s getting too risky. This was only supposed to be a pit stop. I never should have started something with her I couldn’t finish. I snort a bitter laugh into the darkened room, almost envious of the guy who got to share a bed and a life with her out here.

For the first time in my memory, I like a woman enough to want to find out more than her cup size. I want to find out what kind of movies she likes, what she does like to eat for breakfast. I want to kiss her neck, take a shower with her, see the sun on her skin, make her laugh and hear her moan under me, but I don’t have the luxury of doing any of that. I don’t have the time. And to preserve my sanity, I need to stop thinking about her in future tense.

The storm should pass by Monday, and I’ll breeze out the door and never have to think about her again.

I stare at the ceiling, shivers starting to let me know I should have stayed in the living room where the fire is warming the room. I shift myself and grab the comforter on the bed and awkwardly throw it over half my body. Maybe if I doze, I won’t feel like a hormonal school kid with a crush on his babysitter anymore?

***

The sun has clocked out when I open my gritty eyes. The room that was darkened due to the shutters is almost completely black. My body is frozen, I can’t feel my fingers, and I’m shaking with cold. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep. My stomach is growling so I ease to my feet, wincing as pain shoots through my torn chest. I shrug my borrowed shirt over my body, shivering as I peek through the crack in the door.

Light is flickering down the hall, coming from the living room. The heavy scent of something meaty makes my mouth water and my stomach rumble even louder as I creep down the hall. Warmth smacks into me as I enter the room, eyes seeking the woman I need to stay away from.

The room is empty, but a glass of wine is on the coffee table, along with a bottle and an open book, spine down. I stand in front of the fire, hoping I can warm up and maybe grab something to eat before heading back to the bedroom. My mouth is parched so I grab her glass, hands shaking so much that some of the red liquid splashes down my shirt.

I nearly have the glass at my lips when I hear her over the rain. “No!”

She launches herself at me and swipes the glass from my hand, spilling more of the wine, mostly over the coffee table.

“W-w-haaat t-t-h-he fuuu-ck,” I stammer through my chatting teeth.

She frowns at me as I try to wrap my arms around myself and back away till I’m in front of the fire again. She plonks the glass on the table before her hands slide to her hips.

“I was reading about blood loss. You shouldn’t drink alcohol, and you shouldn’t be in the cold either.” I’m so frozen; I can only give her a jerky nod in reply. She’s probably right. I open my mouth to tell her so when she grabs a blanket and carefully drapes it around my shoulders. “I’ll bring you some food.”

She shoves me, and my knees buckle as I fall back onto the sofa. I wrap the blanket closer, teeth still smashing together as shivers wrack my body. Every shudder brings a fresh wave of pain screaming through my chest, making my breath hitch as I wait it out.

She strolls back in carrying a bowl of soup and a cup of what looks like tea. My stomach growls, but I’m shaking so hard, I doubt I can hold the bowl without risking third-degree burns, so I just smile as she frowns down at me, lip caught in her teeth like she’s worried about me. I try to think of something witty to say, but my brain doesn’t seem able to formulate the words, let alone get them out.

She shakes her head and blows out a sigh. “You better not be faking.”

I pull a face at her, wondering how I can possibly fake being a human version of a frozen dinner when she starts to take off her top. My jaw drops as I understand what she’s doing and what that means. What little brain function I had disappears as she slides the blanket off me and starts gently tugging my shirt off. I try to help, but my fingers aren’t working so I let her gently pull it up and off, even though it hurts like hell as my injury moves again.

She doesn’t take off anything else, just straddles me so her warm skin is against my icy chest. She manages to get the blanket around my shoulders again and slides her hands around my neck and pulls me closer; my head close to her tits.

“Put your arms around me. I need to warm you up slowly. This is the safest way.”

I do as she says, too cold to even think about the consequences. She sucks in a breath of air as my frigid hands brush against her back. I don’t know how long we stay locked together; I just know that when her arms relax, my teeth are no longer chattering and my brain is registering that a sexy blonde is sitting on me, incredibly close to my cock.

I shift my head back so I can look her in the eye to say thank you, and to tell her she can get off me, but nothing comes out. Her eyes are locked on mine. Her mouth is parted, breathing starting to increase.

I know I’m one second away from kissing her again, so I smile and gesture to the food that’s probably long cold. My body cooperates by grumbling noisily. “Since you went to the trouble.”

Her eyebrows lift, her chest still rising a little too quickly, which makes it even harder to keep my eyes off the way her tits are straining against the fabric of her bra. She shakes her head a little like she’s shaking off thoughts about what we’re doing before she climbs off hastily. I feel the loss of body heat instantly and grab the blanket so I can preserve some of the warmth she shared. She’s quick to pull her sweatshirt on again, but I have just enough time to notice her toned upper body and a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on her flat stomach.

She sniffs and hands me the soup, her hands trembling as I take the bowl. She waits until I have the bowl nestled in front of me before clearing her throat and picking up her wine glass. She sounds almost angry when she glares at me.

“I’m not doing that again, so do me a favor and just stay out here, okay? And I found some pain meds. I think you should take them.”

I nod slowly and infuse lightness I don’t feel into my words. “I’m kind of putting a damper on your weekend aren’t I, Evelyn? Don’t worry; I’ll be gone as soon as the weather clears.”

Her eyes widen, and she grips the stem of the glass so tight her fingertips blanch. “Let’s just agree to stay out of each other’s way. We’ll get some heat on in the—” She swallows thickly, moisture swimming in her eyes as she downs the last of her drink. “You can stay in the master bedroom; I’ll find a way to heat it. I’ll just bring you food and leave it outside the door.”

I start to protest that I can at least help her out, but she raises a hand and shakes her head. “I’m obviously not myself right now… I’m not used to having…”

Whatever she’s about to say is cut short when she looks down at the phone, and a new emotion flickers over her face. “Your text bounced back. Maybe you should be more careful who you contact next time.”

She hands me the phone as my pulse speeds. She must know what I wrote, and I can only guess whoever received it asked who I was, but if she’s thinking about that, or anything else, she’s not asking me directly, which makes me even more concerned.

I take the phone and give her a half-assed smile, but she’s pulling out a strip of meds from her pocket. She hands me the pills without looking at me and stalks away. I down a couple pills with the tea she made, then lean my head back and try to think of what and who I should text so she doesn’t ask any more questions.

I should be happy she’s putting some space between us, but the frostiness isn’t doing anything to stop me from thinking about her or the way she feels in my arms. Being locked up here with her is the most pleasant kind of torture I think I’ve ever felt. I shouldn’t be picturing anything other than getting across the river so I can find a highway and get back to the city.

I tilt my head so I can see the entrance to the hallway. I can’t hear anything but the wind and rain outside. It’s getting darker again, signaling it's later than I realized. I pull myself off the sofa and reach down to pull my shirt back on again, leaving the cell on the sofa.

She’s still not back when I think to put another couple logs on the fire. The seconds tick by into minutes and my nervousness grows as I wait. I start to pace back and forth in front of the fire. What the hell is she doing that takes so long? I glance at the cell, checking on the phone even though I’m supposed to be conserving the battery.

I throw it back on the sofa and find myself stalking across the room to find her. Maybe she has another phone? Maybe she’s listening to a radio right now? Sitting in her car with the heat cranked up, listening to…

My heart crashes around in my chest, not because she’s doing anything bad, but because she’s standing in the hallway, staring at the master bedroom door, back against the wall, hands wrapped around her, mouth open like she’s staring at a monster about to consume her.

I step closer, not sure if I should be invading her space again after she made it so clear I needed to keep my distance. But something inside me is tugging me towards her like I want to take away the pain she’s so obviously feeling.

It’s my fault she’s looking like that. My fault for crashing into her beach house. I owe her for saving my life. I freeze in the hallway, just out of reach of her. My heart is pounding so hard; if it weren’t for the driving rain outside, I’m pretty sure she’d hear it. I start to leave, but she slowly turns until she’s looking at me. Her shoulders are shaking as she buries her face in her hands.

I can’t understand what she’s muttering into her hands, and I have no idea of whether she’s bat shit crazy or my presence is causing her to act this way, so I just stand like a moron, gawking at her. I don’t know if it’s the way she starts to sag like she’s about to collapse, or that knowing that her behavior is most likely a direct result of me asking her to help, but I start to inch towards her.

I’m about to wrap my arm around her shoulders when she jerks her head up and holds up her trembling hand. “Please don’t touch me.” A stabbing sensation starts to grow in my chest as she pushes off the wall and skirts around me so she’s facing the guest bedroom she sleeps in. “I need to be alone for a while.”

She closes the door with such finality that I flinch. I run a hand over my face and back away, totally confused and not just by how going into the master bedroom was such a big deal for her.

Evelyn is driving me insane. She’s incredibly sexy, sweet and kind, basically a wet dream waiting to happen, but how can a woman who’s the closest thing to an angel one minute be a basket case the next?

More importantly, why do I even care?