Leila

 

 

I can feel myself drifting inside my body, and yet I hear sounds and feel a hand on mine, its warm strength bleeding into me in a way that I haven’t felt in a long time.

I am so tired, so damn tired, and hopeless as I drift, my mind shying away from the last week with everything I have in me, even if it’s the only place my thoughts want to go.

It’s cowardly to try and block it all out. I know I’ll have to face it head-on eventually, but I can’t. That idiot who took me did things to me that I can’t think about and still survive.

I didn’t think I would, and that was such a relief, even as I lay freezing to death in that freezer. I wanted to die, and part of me still does when I remember—

No! No, just don’t go there yet, Leila, I yell, trying to turn from the thoughts and just remember the warmth I felt when I finally stopped shivering and felt only numb relief.

No more pain, no more cold, nothing. Just warmth. A warmth I know was signaling a death that I had begged for just days before. I feel a little ashamed though, especially when I recall Tiffany’s cries and Mika’s pleas for me to get up!

The hand in mine tightens, and I’m focused solely on the contact when I feel a soft brush against my skin. Lips. Oh God, someone is kissing my hand.

Something wet and warm hits me next, and I know what it is the moment I hear that voice.

“Come on, Lay, baby. Please wake up.”

Lyon?

I’m dead. I must be dead if he’s here. Eight years, eight long years ago, he swore never to come near me again, and now that I hear his voice, I just know I can’t be alive anymore.

“Please. Please just wake up and look at me.”

I try. I really do, thinking that if I’m dead I should be able to do anything I want, right? But my lids won’t move, and no matter how I fight, I can’t move my hand either. Nothing will move.

All that I have right now is my mind, and it’s filled with a darkness I can’t face yet. So, I don’t. I don’t go there or look at what I feel, instead turning away to look at the memories I have carried with me for eight years…

 

“I can’t believe you gave him a phony number, Leila! That man was gorgeous,” Jan yells at me as I throw my bookbag onto the bed and fall beside it, looking at her where she’s perched on her bed in a dorm the size of a matchbox.

“Shut up. I had to. You know I am not dating right now. I only have time for classes and going to visit Meek. I can’t waste my time on some boy who only wants to get in my pants,” I defend.

I do feel guilty though and, if I am honest, regret too. Jan is oh so right. Lyon Wylder was gorgeous, and that smile was so bright it made my insides quiver with a thrill of delight.

If I’d believed for one second he was truly interested in me, I’d have thrown myself at his feet. But guys don’t look at me that way. They never do.

I’m not really the type. I have hair the color of an old woman’s, eyes so dark brown I envy Mika with her greyish orbs, and while I am small all over, I have hips that give new meaning to the term childbearing.

I take after my late gram, Elsie, in all ways, the odd one out in a family of brunettes with grey eyes and slender builds. And height. Mika is five eleven and towers over me even if I wear heels.

“Lay, you can’t keep on like this! Mika is in the hospital and receiving the best treatment money can buy. She doesn’t need you visiting her every day and sacrificing what time you have, feeling guilty that you’re healthy when she’s sick.”

I know she’s right, and yet I get mad that she thinks she has the right to say these things to me. I don’t care if Meek doesn’t need me. I need her.

My sister has stage one cancer. There are medical terms galore for what she has, but it boils down to a disease that is eating her alive. She’s on chemo at the moment, her beautiful brown hair long gone as the poisons that are supposed to save her life ravage her body.

The doctors use words like hope and percentages and assure us they’re doing all they can, and yet I still see a shell of the sister I once knew and looked up to.

We’re Irish twins, being born only ten months apart, but I feel so much closer to her than that. She’s my best friend, my confidante, the first person I told when I slept with my long-term high school sweetheart, Cole, and then had my heart broken by the asshole.

She’s my everything, and I can’t lose her, which is why my life is only about school to satisfy my parents and then the hospital visits every day. It costs a lot to live on campus though, and with the way the medical bills are eating into Dad’s savings and insurance, I don’t have the luxury of keeping this up.

I need to get a job, and that will cut into my time. I’ve considered dropping a few classes next semester so I can work in the mornings, but so far, I don’t think it will work out. Add to that the time I need to study, and I definitely won’t have time for a boy.

He was hot though, dammit, and I had the feeling that even if all he wanted was one night, I’d have enjoyed it.

My one time with Cole was a disaster. I cried the whole time while he got his rocks off and scowled at me for ruining it with my crying. It hurt, a lot, something I talked to Meek about.

She says it’s because I wasn’t ready enough to take him, her first sexual foray having been with her best guy pal, a year older than she was. He adored her and made it great, which is more than I can say for my one and only attempt.

I don’t want or need more on my plate so, good sex or not, Lyon Wylder is not in the cards.

“I need to study. I have an English test tomorrow, and I haven’t even started reading the material,” I say, changing the subject.

Jan screams into her pillow and glares but doesn’t say a word because she knows how stubborn I can be.

But he was hot, I think, staring at the pages of my book without seeing a word. I wonder what dinner would have been like.

Two hours later, just when I think I won’t ever want to read another word again, I hear a knock on the door and scowl because Jan’s out and that can only mean it’s Helen coming to annoy me in her stead. Damn girls are the pits when a boy is involved.

I almost die on the spot when I open the door to see Lyon Wylder standing there, grinning down at me. Oh shit.

“You aren’t ready,” he says, giving my sweats and fluffy pink socks a glance.

Er, no. My hair is up in a messy bun, my old track shirt is faded, and I am not wearing a bra beneath the threadbare fabric, and I don’t have a stitch of makeup on.

“What…?”

“My brother Lynx has a friend in the administration offices,” he explains, making me groan and blush.

Caught red-handed, I think, expecting some sort of rebuke or a guilt trip at the least. Lyon doesn’t do any of that though, just patiently waits for me to say something.

“I can’t…”

“I’m not leaving, Leila, so you can either get dressed or invite me in. Your choice.”

Heck. It takes me two minutes to throw on jeans and a hoodie before I whip the door open again and step out. He’s leaning up against the opposite wall, relaxed and smelling like aftershave, when I walk up to him and fold my arms impatiently.

“You should take a hint, Lyon.”

“I did. You want me to chase you. I’m okay with that, Lay. I am a Lyon after all.”

I giggle because I can’t help it and blush when he leads me from the building to a truck that looks brand-new and shining in the early sunset. It’s dark blue and big, sitting so high I have to let him pick me up to get in.

He fastens my seat belt before I can and lopes around, smiling when all it takes for him to get in is a slight leg up.

“God, you are so delicate and small.”

My snort is not delicate though, and I eye him as he pulls out and turns off campus. Ah, I think when he takes us a block or two down and stops at a diner, it’s gonna be a cheapy.

“I know what you’re thinking, but this place makes the best beignets in the state besides my mom, and I suspect you won’t be thrilled meeting my mom on our first date, so I thought I could show you another culinary delight until you’re ready.”

I blush at him, hating how expressive my face can be sometimes, and let him come around to get me.

“Sorry. I’m not a snob, and I really don’t care what we do on this date, honest. I’m just having a bad day,” I explain, thanking him when he helps me into a booth at the back and slides in opposite me.

He’s so tall his legs take up a lot of space and cradle mine when he stretches out. I’d move away, but the truth is that I don’t want to, and besides, there’s nowhere to go.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

I smile at his upbeat nickname and shrug.

“The workload this semester is huge, and I don’t have time for half the things I need to do. I have to get a job to pay for meals for the rest of the semester and next year, but everything I found is either night work, which won’t work with the curfew the dean set on our dorm. Or it’s slap bang in the middle of the day when I have classes.”

The waitress comes over and hands us a menu, taking my drink order—two chocolate shakes—while Lyon orders two chili cheese fries and a double order of beignets.

“Hey.”

“Trust me, Lay, it’s the only way to go when you come here. The fries are covered in real chili and grated cheese, and it’s so greasy and delicious you can’t stop eating until it’s all gone. And the beignets…”

I smile at the way his eyes go dreamy and laugh when he smacks his lips. So far, Lyon Wylder is really likable. Not good, because I don’t want to like him. I want to go back to the dorm, finish studying, and forget that I have no life and things are falling apart.

“You need a morning job?” he asks when I say nothing else.

“Yeah, ideally. I have most mornings off, except Wednesdays when I have to go to History, but other than that, it’s all mornings off. It is not easy finding part-time work with a schedule like that.”

The shakes arrive fast, and we both suck some down with identical moans of chocolatey happiness.

“God, that’s good.”

“Told ya. Anyway, I can help, if you want,” he says around his straw, making me frown at him.

“What?”

“I can help you out there. My dad has a construction business, and I know he was looking for a junior office girl after he fired the last one for sleeping and turning the phones off.”

I’m so tempted to jump on that offer it hurts when I force myself not to respond right away. It isn’t easy though because I only have about a hundred bucks left in my food budget, and I still have to fork out forty on a book I need for my history class.

I would ask Mom and Dad, but I heard her telling a friend at the hospital last week that they’re not doing so well, and I hate to add more stress to an already hard situation.

So, now it’s either fail that paper I have to write or go without food for a week.

“Lay?”

“Look, I really appreciate that, but it wouldn’t feel right, taking your help when I don’t think I’ll see you again. And no, just listen. It’s not that I don’t like you, Lyon. You’re handsome and funny and cheeky, and there is just something about you that I like. But my life is really hectic at the moment, and I just don’t have time for more,” I explain as the waitress delivers our food and the beignets at the same time.

Geez, the service in this place is great.

“Anything else?”

“Not right now, Darling.”

My raised brow makes Lyon grin, and I see the waitress laughing at the look I give him as she walks away.

“Her name is Darling, and she’s a friend of my mom’s, so don’t be gross, Lay. Now, tell me what has a girl who should be worry-free running around with absolutely no time for fun.”

I don’t want to tell him. I just want to eat good food and talk a little and enjoy this date before it’s over and I never see him again, and chances are I won’t. Our campus is huge, and if he’s been here a full year like me and I haven’t once seen him before, it’s only logical that we’ll get lost again.

But I do owe him something because I did mess him around, and I do feel bad for giving him a fake number. The fact that he wanted to go out with me so much he found me is proof that he’s not a dog, so I feel doubly bad now.

“My classes are really full, and my advisor won’t let me drop anything. And my sister is in the hospital. I see her every day because…I’m scared she won’t get better and I don’t want to miss anything,” I say softly, picking at my fries.

They smell delicious, but my stomach is in knots, and I don’t think I can eat.

Lyon stills as I finish my explanation and takes my hand in his, rubbing at the pulse point in a way that makes everything inside me fizzle and beg for just one night.

“I’m so sorry, baby. That must be so hard for you. I have four brothers and a sister, and it would kill me if one of them got sick.”

It is killing me, but part of me knows that Meek is right. I can’t die with her if that’s how things turn out, and if that happens, I will be all alone and—

“Thanks. I just…I don’t want to come off as a bitch, but I don’t want to lead you on. I probably wouldn’t see you as much as you want, or I’d be busy with schoolwork, or I’d have to work to eat, and then…it wouldn’t be fair to keep you on the line if I couldn’t be a good bet, ya know?” I say, swallowing because it hurts to have to give up something this nice.

Lyon is nice. I hardly know the guy, and I could totally be wrong in my assessment, but he’s been nothing but a gentleman and nice to boot. I like nice people. I am a nice person. I shouldn’t have to look at a hot guy who would be a great catch and say no because I have all this baggage in my life that is taking over everything.

“Well, how about this, you let me talk to my dad about the job and take it if he gives it to you, because you need it, and I don’t want to offer you something with strings attached. If you can’t see me and things are really busy, then I will wait or…or I will come see you at work, and we can take things slow.”

What? Wait a minute. Is this guy really telling me that he’s willing to be patient with me and understands my troubles? The thought is so alien all I can do is stare at him, my mouth hanging open.

Lyon chuckles when all I can do is gape and gently closes my mouth, stroking a finger over my chin.

“Deal?”

“I, you, this isn’t real. Are you real?”

I need to know because I dated Cole for so long it was like being married as a teenager, and the guy was not what I would call patient. He lost his mind when I blew him off for cheer squad and made it so impossible for me I quit at the beginning of senior year to avoid his tantrums. Guys, from my experience, are not patient or understanding. They want attention all the time.

“Yep. Far as I can tell. Soooo, are you down with that, because I have to tell you, Lay, I am not just walking away from you now that I found you, and I don’t agree with this whole no-fun thing.”

“But what about your classes and partying and having fun with your friends?”

“Eh, I’ve partied hard enough in my high school days to be partied out, and besides, what do I need to go looking for if I already found you? Now, eat your fries, woman. I want to attack those beignets, and I can’t be a gentleman if it takes you forever to eat your food.”

The fries are gone in minutes, Lyon’s eyes closing when I wipe the plate clean and still have room for dessert. I haven’t had anything to eat since a breakfast of muesli because I’m trying to cut down on food expenses, and I think he knows that from the earlier comment I let slip.

It’s so embarrassing I want to crawl under the table, but pride can’t beat the dessert, and I groan when the first sugary bite hits my tongue.

“Oh my God.”

“Told you.” He grins, shoving an entire square into his mouth and chewing with moans that make my everything pulse.

I should so not be thinking about sex when he makes those sounds, but I am. I so am, and the tightening in my lower belly is sweet as we continue to eat and make complete pigs of ourselves.

“I can’t,” I moan when he holds the last one out to me, waggling his brows comically.

“Come oooon. It’s the last one.”

“I can’t, Lyon. Oh God, it hurts,” I whine, clutching my belly because it’s full to bursting.

Lyon sighs and finishes it off, giving me a sad look.

“I’m gonna have to teach you how to handle dessert, Lay. There’s no such thing as quitting on the last sugary sweet morsel,” he opines with a sorrow that makes me laugh and hold my aching stomach with a whine.

“Stop. How do you eat that much, Lyon? My word, I think I’d explode.”

His eyes go hot, and I feel tingling sparks between my legs when he smiles and just licks his lips, my eyes feasting on the slow erotic movement of his pink tongue.

“We’ll discuss exploding on our tenth date.”

“What?”

Okay, I’m pretty sure that if we’re dating, I won’t make it to date five without being all over him. I may not have liked penetration when I was with Cole, but I liked kissing and the touching and some of the naughtier parts of non-full sex.

I want to kiss him already, and I don’t even know him all that well. What the heck will I be like after a few more nights spent talking and sharing our secrets?

“Aw, don’t worry, baby, I won’t make you suffer all the way through. I’ll eat you out by date six. That’s a promise.”

His drawl is dirty and not so much suggestive—because there ain’t noting suggestive about that outright statement of intent!—as it is a wicked tease that has me shifting around in the booth and tightening my lower half.

“You shouldn’t say those things. I’m not going to just stop everything for you and sleep with you on a whim, even if you are cute,” I warn him.

I may want him, and yes, I feel the sexual tension between us very clearly, but I won’t make the same mistake I did once and just go for it because it was the accepted thing to do.

I want sex to mean something this time, not just me wanting intimacy while the guy I am with takes his pleasure and makes me feel like a dud. Cole broke me down very easily, and part of our break-up was about me not being happy with him after the way he handled my first time.

I was disillusioned and mad, angry that he’d used me when we’d been together for so long, and he should have cared.

Now I know that time doesn’t make it any better. You either love someone or you don’t. I’m not sure I want a love relationship right now, but I do know that I need to care about Lyon and I need to know he cares about me before I go any further.

“I’m sorry, babe. I was being an ass, and I am truly sorry. We don’t have to do a thing, nothing you don’t want to do. I promise. Just give this a chance, okay?”

“Okay.”

He did kiss me on our first date, I recall, laughing. He kissed my cheeks and pecked my lips, and it was perfect.