CHAPTER 18

Delia

“Hey, Delia. It’s me. Drake. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. The hospital's transferring me back to Nashville for the rest of my seventy-two-hour hold. Then I’m off to the rehab facility. Figured you’re probably right. Anyway, gimme a call if you can.”

“Delia, it’s Drake. My calls are being monitored, but I figured I’d try you again. Got one more day on my hold, then I’m out and off to rehab. Hank’s escorting me there, but I was wondering if you’d come along, too. Landon and Stone are enjoying their families, and I don’t want them to see me like this.”

“Delia, come on. I don’t even know if you got home okay. Would ya tell someone? Please?”

Phone call after phone call poured in from the hospitals as Drake bounced around. The seventy-two-hour hold was mandatory within these types of situations. The hospital would automatically assume it was a suicide attempt in order to have time to coordinate his drop off with the rehab facility here in Nashville. He called me when he left New Orleans, he called me when he got back to Nashville, and he called me during his last day in the hospital.

Then, he called again. But this time, it was different.

“Please, Delia. I know you don’t wanna see me and I know you wanna put all this behind you. But I—I need to see you. And I don’t admit that often. Or ever. I don’t usually need people. I’m a mess, Miss Delia. A fine and proper mess. Just come to the hospital before they pick me up for this damn rehab place. Please?”

He was begging me to come see him one last time. And even though everything inside of me told me to delete the message and forget about all this nonsense, I couldn’t.

Maybe I’d been wrong about him after all. Maybe he did care. Or maybe he just needed a friend.

As I pieced myself together and headed for the hospital, I began to get excited for him. He was going into one of the finest rehabilitation centers in the state of Tennessee, and he would get the help he needed. He would have group therapy and one-on-one counseling sessions. He’d meet people who struggled with the same type of addiction he did. He would be in the presence of people who could help him find his way to a road of sobriety he could’ve never achieved on his own.

I walked through the halls of the hospital and came upon his room. There was a security guard standing outside of it, but the moment he saw me he nodded and moved to the side. I clutched my purse tightly as I drew in a deep breath, my nerves getting the best of me. My heart was thumping in my ears and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.

I was nervous to see him.

I stepped into the room and found him sitting in a chair. The security guard closed the door behind me, making sure no one would come in after I’d entered. The sun was illuminating Drake’s outline, casting a healthy glow on his skin as he turned his head.
“Well I’ll be,” Drake said. “Wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Can’t resist a begging man,” I said with a grin. “You look good.”

And he did. His eyes were clearer than I’d ever seen, and his skin already had a healthy glow back to it. I walked over and stood by his chair, placing my hand on his shoulder for comfort. He was dressed in his regular clothes and his legs were spread wide. He had a relaxed grin on his cheeks and for once, his hand wasn’t shaking.

“I cussed Hank out for you,” Drake said.

“No need for all that. He was right to be mad,” I said.

“Doesn’t mean you talk to a woman that way.”

“Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armor.”

His hand came up to mine and he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. He brought the palm of my hand to his cheek and I felt the three-day stubble on his skin. I bit back the urge to run my fingertips along his jawline. I bit back the urge to straddle his lap. After a few days of being away from him, he was still irresistible.

And I hated myself for it even more. He was vulnerable and I was thinking about sex. It was like I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

His face turned into the palm of my hand and he kissed it. The warmth spread up my arm, causing my grip on my purse to release. He guided me around his chair and tugged me into his lap, and my hands planted on his chest to push away.

But instead of pushing away like I was telling myself to do, my hands curled into the fabric of his shirt.

Our lips collided as my brow furrowed. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. I hadn’t come here to do this. I came here to see him off to rehab, but dammit, I couldn’t resist the pull of him.

His hands rushed up my skirt, squeezing my thighs tighter than I wanted. His fingertips pulled my panties off to the side, ripping the fabric as my hands fiddled with his belt buckle. I managed to free him from the confines of his jeans as his cock throbbed in my hand, and I worked to straddle his lap as he held his girth for me. I sank down onto him, our motions desperate and his touch hotter than even I remembered it.

My legs shook as they dangled around his waist, my toes not quite touching the ground.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I said as his cock throbbed within me. “We—we can’t, Drake. Not here. Not now.”

“Delia, I’m about to go to rehab. I won’t be able to call you or see you. It’ll be months before I see you again. And I want you. I need you.”

I looked up into his eyes as he rolled his hips into mine. His touch was raw. Rough. Rugged and callused. He gripped me hard and thrust deeply into me . I leaned my face into his neck, trying to stifle my moans of pleasure.

I clawed at his shoulders, my body trembling in his arms as his hips assaulted my own. His large hands encompassed the whole of my hips as his dick slid in and out of my warmth. Salacious electricity surged through my veins, forcing whimpers up my throat as I muffled them with his shoulder.

No matter how much he fucked up and no matter where the hell he went with his life, I would always want him. Even if this was the last time I’d be able to have him.

He was like a sickness within me. A virus I couldn’t shake. I felt his cock throbbing against my fluttering walls as my arousal poured over him. His hips were stuttering, and his body was thrusting shallowly against mine.

My lips found his as he exploded within me, triggering my own orgasm as I fell over the edge.

My pussy pulled him deeper. My arms snaked around his neck as our tongues collided and I memorized the sweet taste of him. A taste untainted by alcohol.

Our foreheads knocked together as we drank in each other’s breaths. His cock stayed sheathed within me until it dwindled, slipping from my body.

He gave my ass one last squeeze before I removed myself from him.

I watched him stuff his cock back into his pants as I fixed my underwear and skirt. I wanted to reach out to him, to cover him in kisses and to stay with him, all day. My heart pounded in my chest as I touched the stubble on his face.

“You should probably go,” he said, staring out the window instead of looking at me.

“Drake, I don't want to go,” I said. Tears filled my eyes.

“You deserve better than this, Delia. Better than me. I'll only fuck up your life,” he said. “I shouldn't have asked you to come here.”

“But you did ask, and I came to support you.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why do you care so damn much?”

I couldn't answer that. It was more than just him being an addict and needing my help. I didn't want to turn my back on him.

“I don't know.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking to me for one second before he went back to the window. His jaw was clenched tight, as if he was trying to keep himself under control.

“Probably for the best. We should end things before they go too far, you know?”

I knew he was right, but the pain inside of me was raw and real. I didn't want to end things, even though I wasn't sure we'd even started something to begin with.

“You're right. I'll go.”

The security guard opened it before I got there, and my cheeks burned hot with realization.

That was the plan. From the moment I had entered the hospital, that had been Drake’s plan, to get me on top of him. He had planned to fuck me one last time before he left.

My stomach rolled with nausea as I raced away from the hospital.

That was it. That was my last time with Drake. He was going to rehab, and I was going back to my life. I would wash him out of my system and bury these memories into the locked corners of my mind I never accessed. I was simply Delia, the college student. And he was Drake, the rancher-turned-music-star.

It was back to my normal life and back to my normal ways.

I should have never taken that damn job.