Page 109 of One Reckless Night

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AMELIA

Afew days later, Jared helped me out of his private jet and into his car. His hand lingered on my arm, steadying me as I moved. I couldn’t help but notice how careful he was being. It was strange, this version of Jared. The man who had been so cocky and maybe even a little cold was now hovering over me like a nervous parent. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Part of me wanted to believe he genuinely cared, that this wasn’t just about guilt or obligation. But another part of me—the part that had been hurt too many times—wasn’t ready to trust him yet.

“Are you good?” he asked as I settled into the seat.

“I’m fine.

This was the most time we’d ever spent together one-on-one. Jared had been doting on me constantly. The hospital stay had been a little longer than was initially predicted. Jared made sure to bring me food from outside the cafeteria. He insisted on getting me the best of the best. He was always making sure I was comfortable, and generally acting like a man possessed. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

But as much as I could see he was trying, I hated that we couldn’t seem to talk about the real issues between us. We had yet to talk about our feelings and fears and the fact that we were about to have a baby together. If he’d just give me a single ounce of his truth, I’d tell him mine. But he didn’t. And so, I guarded my broken, confused heart. No way was I putting myself out there.

“Alright,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Are you warm? Cold?”

“I’m fine, Jared.”

He started the short drive to the campus. I was expecting to go back to my condo, but Jared drove past the turn and headed toward his own house. I frowned, glancing at him. “Where are we going?”

“My place,” he said, his tone matter of fact.

I blinked, surprised. “Your place? Jared, I can’t stay with you. I have my own home.”

He shook his head. “You’re on bedrest, Amelia. You need someone to look after you, and I’m not letting you do that alone. You can’t get out of bed. Period.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “It’s not up for discussion.”

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. This was a lot. Too much, maybe. I didn’t know how to navigate this new dynamic between us. It was making me uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to depend on anyone. Depending on someone like Jared felt dangerous. Not physically, but he could break my heart. I knew it wasn’t good to stress. I didn’t want to be stressed out worrying about him and what our relationship was.

When we got to his house, he cut the engine. “Stay right here,” he said.

“Am I to stay in the car?”

“Just sit tight.”

He ran inside and returned with a wheelchair. I rolled my eyes. “You can’t be serious,” I muttered.

“Serious as a heart attack,” he said.

“Bedrest doesn’t mean I can never stand,” I sighed. “The doctor said⁠—”

“I’m not taking any chances,” he said.

I let him help me into the chair.

Inside, he pushed me down the hallway and opened the door. It was a guest bedroom. I knew his room was upstairs. I didn’t know if I was disappointed or relieved he planned on putting me in the guest bedroom.

“Jared, stop,” I said when he parked the wheelchair next to the bed.

“Stop what?” he asked.

“You don’t need to do this for me. We’re not together. We have a lot to figure out, and I get that you’re worried, but this is a lot. I’m uncomfortable taking up space in your life if you’re only doing this for the baby.”

He turned to look at me, his expression serious. “I’m barely thinking about the baby right now, Amelia. I’m worried for you. You scared the hell out of me. I’m making sure you are okay. The baby is important, but it’s you that I’m most concerned about.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding. “Why do you care, then? If this isn’t just about the baby, why do you care so much?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He looked frustrated, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Jared couldn’t—or wouldn’t—voice what he was really thinking. I wanted to believe he cared. His actions said he did, but I needed more. I needed the words.