We both stand stock-still and listen to the noises upstairs. Someone is getting out of bed, and I’ll put money on it being Dad. Surely, they can’t have heard us? Even though Dad’s hearing is poor at best and the drugs effectively knock Morgan into such a deep sleep that it is sometimes hard to deliberately wake her up, I can’t be totally sure that they have been oblivious to everything that we’ve been up to down here. All I can hope is that Drake managed to muffle most of my noises by stuffing my panties into my mouth.

I have no idea what I look like, but my face feels flushed, and my breath is still coming so fast I’m sure it must be blindingly obvious to anyone who lays eyes on me that I’ve just climaxed. Terrified that I’ll give the game away, I close my eyes and try to calm myself, but it’s hard, especially knowing that he’s right there, looking at me with more lust than I know what to do with.

How am I supposed to react normally in front of my parents with a guy like this around?

I force my eyes open and meet Drake’s gaze once more. I’ve had guys want me, sure, but I’ve never had anyone look at me like this before. As if he wants to devour me. Maybe it’s because I haven’t really wanted any other man to drag me off into his bedroom and never let me out again; their interest has never meant anything to me.

Drake’s interest drives me wild.

I take another deep breath and get a firm hold of myself. This isn’t about me. Though I can’t help cursing the fact that the first guy to come along in all my twenty years of life and who is my stepmom’s son, is also a man that I honestly want to be with. He’s here to see Morgan and I shouldn’t get in the way of that with my stupidly raging hormones.

“How have you been?” I ask awkwardly, trying to disperse the heavy fog of desire that seems to have settled over the room since we drew apart.

He shrugs and eyes me hungrily.

“Conversation would help,” I croak.

“Thinking about you. You?” he mutters and lifts his chin as if daring me to agree with him; to admit that I’ve done nothing but think of him since the moment we parted company.

“Why did you really come?” I need to know why. He was so cynical when I left. I seriously never thought he’d actually bother to come all the way here to see her.

“To see you,” he says in a flat voice as if it should have been obvious.

My heart leaps at his answer, but as much as I love his answer my first concern is about Morgan. I want him to be here for her sake too.

“You are going to see her, aren’t you?” I press. “You’re going to give her a chance?”

“Sure,” he agrees, shrugging his shoulders casually, but I can see the cynicism etched onto his face. I have no idea what is going through his head, but judging by the look on his face, it isn’t anything too good. It sucks to know that he doesn’t believe Morgan is his mom. What does he think we are up to then? A case of mistaken identity? Or maybe he thinks we’re trying to con him out of some of his cash? Or, I’m one of his adoring fans doing this to meet him and get into his pants?

“You don’t believe us, do you?” I hear myself asking.

He shakes his head. “Frankly, no.”

I bow my head slightly with sadness.

“But I’ll hear your stepmother out.”

“Thank you.” I raise my head. I want him to know that I’m grateful, even if we both need to admit there’s something more going on here than just fulfilling my stepmother’s greatest wish.

Before we have a chance to say anything else, Dad emerges at the top of the stairs. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand and grins broadly when he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

“You must be Drake?” He holds his hand out to Drake.

Drake takes his hand and shakes it. “I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Sir.”

I’m taken aback by Drake’s politeness. This is a completely different man than the one who told me to lock the locker room door and strip naked.

Dad’s smile is sad. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s been a big shock to you, but she really appreciates you coming to hear her out.” Dad glances over at me and I can’t help the flush that creeps up my neck. He gives me a funny look and frowns slightly. “Are you okay, honey?”

“Uh, yeah.” I smooth down my hair and force a smile to my lips. I really hope I’m not making it too obvious that Drake has just been eating me out.

“Do you want to offer Drake a cup of coffee or something?” Dad prompts.

I nod quickly, throwing any thoughts of Drake’s face buried between my legs out of my mind for good. I turn towards Drake. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” I mutter. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Sure,” he agrees easily.

“Right, I’ll go make some,” I say too loudly, and hurry towards the kitchen. I stand at the kitchen door and eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Would you like to wait in the living room while I’ll go and get my wife ready?” Dad asks.

“No, I’ll keep Reese company in the kitchen,” Drake replies.

“That’ll be good. She needs a bit of time to wake up properly. I’ll need about ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” Drake says politely, and Dad heads back up the stairs.

I jump away from the kitchen door and start collecting some mugs from the cupboard.

Drake joins me in the kitchen and stands with his hip leaning against the counter.

I can see a little hint of worry on his face, and wonder if it’s just sinking in what he’s about to do. People don’t tend to like spending time with people who are terminally ill. I’ve discovered that since Morgan became sick. He looks a little pale, but to his credit, he doesn’t try to back out.

“You okay?” I ask softly, and he turns to me, his face snapping back into its usual, cocky self.

“Yeah,” he nods and watches as I fill the coffee pot and switch it on.

“Milk?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“Sugar.”

He shakes his head again.

I hand him the mug, careful not to let our fingers touch.

He holds the mug and stares at his hands as if he is trying to psych himself up for his meeting with Morgan. “Anything I should know before I go up there?” he asks.

“All my life I’ve never known Morgan to lie once. Not once. So, just be… open-minded,” I suggest.

He frowns and stares into his coffee.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, Drake,” I say gently. “She has nothing to gain by this. Just her own peace of mind. She’s dying.”

He keeps my gaze for a second, and then nods, but before we have a chance to speak again, we are interrupted by the sound of Dad’s footsteps on the stairs. He sticks his head around the kitchen.

“You’ll never believe this, but she’s actually wide awake.” He smiles at Drake. “Whenever you want to go up…”

Drake puts his untouched coffee mug on the counter, nods at Dad, goes through the door. I follow and watch him pause at the bottom of the stairs for a second. Then, with a deep breath, he starts his journey up.