Megan

Forget kissing school, there must’ve been some secret sex school that Zander was privy to, because Megan never knew sex could be that good. If she hadn’t woken up in Zander’s arms she would’ve thought she’d dreamt the whole tantric episode up. But then again, not even her wildest dreams were that good.

She wanted to pinch herself to be sure this was real. She was in Zander’s bed! Megan ventured a peek under the sheets and felt herself turn fifty shades of pink as heat crawled up her from her toes. Not only was she in Zander’s bed, but they were naked! Yep, last night definitely happened.

Megan’s inner goddess took a bow, preparing her acceptance speech while her ovaries cheered. So this is what it felt like to have your dreams come true, she thought. Boldness gripped her and she couldn’t help kissing a trail across Zander’s gloriously toned chest. His rumble of appreciation spurred her on and she moved further down his muscled abdomen.

“Meg,” he growled, his voice heavy with sleep.

“You awake?” she asked continuing her tantalizing trail of kisses to his pot o’gold.

His answer was a satisfied groan and before she knew it, she’d awoken the beast inside him again. Zander pinned Megan on her back and showed her just how awake he was.

After another unbelievable roll in the sheets, Megan found herself unable to catch her breath. She sat up gasping for air, her hand pressed to her chest.

Zander sat up quickly behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just . . .” she scanned the disheveled room. “Have you seen my purse?”

Zander gave her a concerned look, still seeming a bit dazed from their exertion. “Yer purse?”

“I need . . . my inhaler,” she rasped, her vision spotting. Megan reached for Zander to steady herself as her fingertips began to tingle.

Zander

Zander snapped out of his post-sex daze as Megan’s icy fingers closed around his arm. She was trembling.

“Purse,” she wheezed.

The rattle of her breath sent him hurtling from the bed in search of it. He ransacked the scattered clothing they’d been wearing the night before but he didn’t uncover anything that resembled a purse.

“It’s not here,” he shouted, panic seeping into his voice.

“I . . . need it,” Megan gasped.

Her lips had paled to almost the same color as her creamy, white skin. Zander’s heart slammed so hard in his chest he could barely think. “Megan, tell me what to do,” he begged taking her cold hands in his.

“Sam,” she squeaked.

Of course! Sam would know what to do. Zander jumped into a pair of boxers and was out the door in a flash.

He pounded on Sam and Devon’s door like a barbarian until Devon answered looking bedraggled and bewildered. “Where’s the fire, mate?”

Zander muscled his way past Devon into the room. “Sam!” he bellowed. “Sam! Get up!”

She sat bolt upright in bed, shrieking when she saw Zander looming over her.

“Jaysus!” Devon yelled, trying to pull Zander away from Sam. “What the bloody hell’s the matter with ye?”

“Megan needs her inhaler!” Zander yelled, shoving Devon off of him like he was nothing but a pesky bug. “Now!” he shouted.

Sam’s eyes snapped wide with understanding. She jumped out of bed and darted through the bathroom to Megan’s room, returning moments later with an inhaler. Zander took it and sprinted back down the hall.

Megan

Megan felt hands on her back as something plastic was pressed to her lips.

Sam’s voice reached her like she was speaking under water. “Breathe.”

Megan tasted the cold tang of aerosol and medicine as she drank in a shallow breath. “Breathe,” Sam said again and another burst of drugs pushed its way down her throat.

Something else was pushed around her mouth. It crinkled with each desperate breath Megan dragged into her seizing lungs. She opened her eyes, blinking at the three figures looming over her. Zander had his arms on her shoulders, holding her in a seated position on his bed, while Sam, sat in front of her holding a brown bag to her face. Devon stood at the bedside, inhaler at the ready.

The world came back into focus and Megan realized with utter shame that she was barely covered by the sheets she clung to. But there was nothing she could do, her body was still clutched by the crippling fear that came with not being able to breathe.

Sam’s voice snapped Megan from her tumbling thoughts. “One more time, okay?”

Megan nodded and let Sam trade the bag for the inhaler, pressing it to her lips again. This time Megan was ready and inhaled deeply when Sam counted to three. Megan sucked the medicine into her lungs feeling the burning sensation spread through her chest. She sputtered a cough and Zander gripped her shoulders harder.

“You’re crushing her,” Sam hissed, batting Zander’s hands away.

Sam propped a pillow behind Megan and let her lean back against the headboard. She put a gentle hand on Megan’s chest counting the seconds between her breaths. “Better?” Sam asked softly, her sea-green eyes stormy with concern.

Megan nodded, as she felt the tightness in her chest loosen.

Sam pulled the blankets up around Megan’s shoulders and squeezed feeling back into her cold fingertips.

Megan felt involuntary tears slip from her eyes.

“Can I do anything?” Devon asked, quietly.

Sam let out a breath and turned to him. “Can you ring some hot tea to Megan’s room? And bring my bathrobe?”

“Of course,” Devon said, leaving the room without another word.

“What about me?” Zander asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Sam turned her stormy eyes on Zander and fixed him with an icy glare. “Yeah, you can tell me what the hell happened?”

Zander looked like he was in danger of forgetting how to breathe as he sputtered frantically. “I-we-I-she . . .Christ!” He drew in a breath and ran his hands through his hair. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’m fine,” Megan tried to say, but her voice cracked making her sound anything but.

“Megan . . .” Zander’s face was pure anguish. “I . . .”

Tears began to fall faster down Megan’s cheeks. She’d ruined what should’ve been a perfect morning. All she wanted to do was curl up in Zander’s arms again, but her stupid lungs wouldn’t even let her get a word out.

“Can you give us some space?” Sam asked, though it didn’t sound like a question.

Zander’s shoulders hunched but he left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Megan felt Sam inhale, readying herself for a verbal assault, but it never came. Instead, Sam stroked her hair tenderly. “Are you alright?”

Megan bit her lip, nodding through the tears, her hand seeking out Sam’s. They stayed like that until Megan felt steady again. Her breathing calmed and she found her voice. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Sam smiled tightly. “Let me get you some clothes.”

She picked up Megan’s pink dress only to let it go again when the fabric separated into two frayed pieces. She rummaged through Zander’s drawers, coming back with a soft black t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

Megan had just finished dressing when there was a knock at Zander’s door. Devon poked his head in, holding Sam’s purple bathrobe. Sam waved him in and wrapped Megan up in the soft material.

“Better?” Sam asked.

Megan nodded.

“Good. Let’s get you back to your room,” Sam said helping Megan out of bed. “Devon, a little help?”

Devon swooped in and scooped Megan into his arms.

“No, I-I can walk,” she protested.

“Aye, but ye know how Sam lives to order me around,” Devon teased giving Megan a bright smirk. “Let’s let her have this one, eh?”

Megan couldn’t help but return Devon’s grin. She stopped struggling and let him carry her back to her bedroom.

Disappointment flooded her when she realized Zander wasn’t there.

“Where is he?” Megan asked once it was just her and Sam in the bedroom.

Sam shoved a porcelain teacup into Megan’s hands. “Drink.”

“Where’s Zander?” Megan asked again after taking a sip of the piping hot tea.

The warmth felt wonderful as it spread through her, but she couldn’t ignore the unease she felt as Sam pressed her lips into a grim line.

“Sam . . . I just want to talk to him. I don’t want him thinking this was his fault.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Wasn’t it?”

“No, it was my fault. I’m the one who has asthma. It’s my responsibility to take precautions.”

“You mean like keeping your inhaler with you, instead of in the purse you abandoned at a party?”

Here it comes. “That wasn’t Zander’s fault,” Megan argued.

“Well he certainly doesn’t help!” Sam yelled. “You act like a cat in heat around him, Megan, and it makes you stupid.”

“Sam, that’s enough,” Devon said firmly.

He’d just walked back into the room with Eggsy at his heels. His voice was sharper than Megan was used to. Sam looked like she wanted to argue with him but she didn’t.

“Let’s cut Megs some slack, eh?” Devon continued. “It’s been an exciting morning and I think we could all benefit from some rest.” He smiled at Megan. “I’ll tell Zander ye asked after him, in the mean time I brought Eggsy to keep ye company.”

The dog hopped onto Megan’s bed when Devon patted the comforter, curling up next to her and laying his angular head in her lap. Megan stroked his soft fur, feeling a lonely ache unfurl in her chest as she watched Devon lead Sam from the bedroom.

Zander

Zander ran until his knee threatened to buckle, but it was nothing compared to the pain he’d felt watching Megan suffer. Seeing her struggle for breath had nearly crippled him. He’d instantly been a child again, watching the traumatic end of his mother’s life unfold. He hadn’t known how to help her either.

His mother’s dark hair had morphed into Megan’s raven locks in Zander’s grief-addled mind. He lurched off the running path and threw up in the bushes. He dropped to his knees panting as he began to weep. If Sam hadn’t been there . . .

Zander retched again, unable to stomach the thought. He was cursed. He ruined everything he touched. Why in Christ’s name had he ever thought Megan would be an exception?

He needed to get the hell away from her while he still could. He knew if he went back to the house he’d go straight to her bedroom and pull her into his arms, never able to let her go. But he couldn’t do that. This morning was proof that he wasn’t good for her. He needed distance. It’s what was best for both of them—even if his heart would hate him for it.