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Alarm filled her, and she reached up to touch his forehead. He seemed cold, if anything.
“Come here. Eat something. You’ve barely eaten in days.”
“That might explain why everything is spinning.”
“Could also be the lack of sleep.” She led him to the worn, brown leather sofa and pushed him to sit.
Then she brought over the tray of food she’d left on his desk. She set it on the coffee table and grabbed a grilled cheese sandwich, handing it to him.
“You cut off the crusts.”
“Course I did. And I made it how you like with gouda, Havarti, and cheddar.”
“You always take such good care of me, La-la. And I’ve let you down.”
“What? No, you haven’t.”
He frowned at her. “I’ve locked myself in here, working all hours, ignoring you, and everything else, while you’ve obviously been blaming yourself.”
“I’m fine. Eat your food. I have creamy chicken soup too.”
He eyed her. “I’ll eat if you do.”
How did he know that she hadn’t been eating? He couldn’t, right?
“La-la,” he said warningly. “Do I have to get strict?”
Her eyes widened. “You? Strict?”
“I can do it.”
She had to look down to hide her grin.
“I know you’re smiling, you cheeky brat. Eat.” He spooned up some soup, and with his hand underneath the spoon, held it up for her to sip from.
“Sweetie, what happened wasn’t your fault. Hell, it wasn’t mine or Eliot’s either.” He breathed out. “We all went into that arrangement, knowing fully well it wasn’t something permanent. I guess there was a part of me that thought I could change his mind. That if he could just see how amazing we are, he’d love us back.”
“You are amazing,” she told him fiercely. “You’re so intelligent, funny, and protective.”
“You forgot insanely good-looking and well-hung.”
“I figured those didn’t need to be said.”
“True, they’re very obvious.”
“Umm.” She bit her lip against a grin.
“I’m sorry, La-la. The last thing you needed was me checking out on you like this. I just… I needed to bury my emotions. It’s hard for me to lose someone. It takes me back to the day my dad died. I know Eliot is still alive. I know that we agreed on the terms. I shouldn’t feel this devastated.”
“But you do.”
“But I do.”
“So do I,” she whispered.
“I know. And I should be present for you, instead of hiding away.”
“I’m just worried about you,” she told him. “You’ve lost weight and you’re not sleeping.”
“I think that makes two of us.” He lightly ran a finger under her right eye.
“We’re a pair, huh?”
“We are. Now, we need to eat some more and then I think I might need a bath. I really stink.”
She burst into giggles. “Yeah, you really do.”
“Join me?”
Something inside her settled at his words. They’d be okay. They had to be.
Twenty minutes later, she was snuggled up against him in his ridiculously oversized bath. She rested her head against his chest.
“Want to play a game?” he asked.
“Hide the sausage isn’t really a game.”
“How dare you! It totally is a game. Besides, that wasn’t what I was going to suggest.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope. I was going to suggest that we harpoon the salty longshoreman.”
“What? Oh lord.” She moved, straddling his lap. “How about we just have sex?”
He sighed. “Where has all the romance gone? Is that all I am to you? A pecker for you to poke.”
“I think you do the poking.”
“I do like a good poking,” he mused.
She grinned down at him.
“Love it when you smile, sweetie. Love it even more when I make you smile. Come here.” He drew her down to kiss him. Her hands went to his shoulders, and she moved her hips up, sliding herself onto him.
He groaned. “Fuck, sweetie. That feels good.”
“I know,” she breathed out.
She rocked back and forth. Gentle, slow movements. She didn’t have the energy for anything more. He moved his hands up her thighs, then around to her ass, squeezing her cheeks before he grasped her hips, stilling her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he groaned. “But do you mind if we take this to the bed? Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall into a coma after this and I’d rather not sleep in the bath.
That sounded good to her.
He was almost drained of energy by the time he stumbled into bed. Isla climbed in on her side.
Ahh, bed.
Why had he been sleeping on the couch? What sort of an idiot slept on the couch when he had a comfortable bed and the most gorgeous girl in the world in that bed?
Idiot.
“Come here.” He rolled onto his back and tugged her so she was lying on top of him. “I want to apologize now for what is bound to be a terrible performance.”
She giggled. The sound filled that hole inside him that Eliot had left. Not completely. He had a feeling it would be a gaping wound for a long time. But being with her helped.
