Page 88 of Tempted To Be Mine

“Stay with me?” she murmured.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I climbed into bed beside her, propping myself up against the headboard. She curled into my side automatically, her hand finding its usual spot on my chest. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out completely. She was asleep.

I stayed awake.

I studied her face in the dim light. The peaceful lines of her features. The slight furrow between her brows that smoothed out as she sank deeper into sleep. The steady rise and fall of her chest under the covers. She looked vulnerable. She never looked like that when she was awake. Lucy was always so put together and in control. Seeing her like this, soft and unguarded, did something to my heart.

A fierce surge of protectiveness washed through me. I wanted to keep her safe. Warm. Happy. I wanted to make sure she never felt like crap again, even if it was a part of being human. I wanted to fix whatever was wrong, even though I knew some things couldn’t be fixed with private planes and surprise grandmothers.

Was I in love with her?

Not just attracted. Not just fond of her because she was my friend. I was afraid the feeling that had settled somewhere deep in my soul might actually be a little thing called love.

How long had this been building? I tried to trace it back. What was the moment when friendship had shifted into something more? I silently shook my head. There wasn’t a single moment. It was everything. Every late-night phone call. Every shared joke. Every time she’d called me out on my bullshit and I’d loved her more for it.

I’d always been attracted to her. That wasn’t new. Lucy was beautiful, smart, and funny. Any man with eyes and a brain would be attracted to her. But attraction was easy. Attraction was common. I’d been attracted to hundreds of women over the years, and none of them had ever made me feel like this.

None of them had ever made me want to sit up in bed and watch over them while they slept. None of them had ever made me feel like their pain was my pain. I couldn’t think of a single woman that had ever mattered enough for me to move mountains just to see them smile.

The way I’d felt when Lucy told me about her grandmother. The sadness in her voice had been unbearable. I couldn’t enjoy the holiday knowing she was hurting. I couldn’t sit at my family’s table, surrounded by love, while she was alone and missing her traditions. I’d had to do something. I’d had to fix it. Her pain had been mine. Even now, her being under the weather caused me discomfort, like I was the one with the bug. Given how much time we’d spent together and kissing, it would probably get me eventually.

That wasn’t normal friend behavior.

What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if this was just physical for her? What if I told her how I felt and she pulled away, retreated behind those professional boundaries she was always talking about?

I couldn’t lose her. That was the one thing I knew for certain. Whatever happened, however this played out, I couldn’t lose Lucy.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up with me too. I slid down from the headboard, careful not to jostle her, and pulled her closer against my chest. She made a small sound of contentment and burrowed into me. I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

The sound of running water pulled me out of a dream I couldn’t quite remember. I blinked awake, disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar ceiling and the chill in the air. Switzerland. The chalet. Lucy. The bed beside me was empty, the sheets still warm where she’d been.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and listened. The water was coming from the bathroom. Lucy was up. That had to be a good sign. Yesterday she’d barely been able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time.

I was still trying to fully wake up when the bathroom door opened and Lucy emerged, toothbrush in hand, mid-brush. She stopped short when she saw me sitting up.

“Oh,” she said around the toothbrush. “You’re awake.”

“So are you.” I smiled at her. She looked better than yesterday. Still a little pale but more like herself. “How are you feeling?”

She held up a finger, disappeared back into the bathroom to spit and rinse, then returned. “Good, actually. Much better. I think I just needed sleep.”

“You needed about twenty hours of it, apparently.”

“The body knows what it needs. I’m coming with you today.”

“Are you sure? If you need more rest, don’t push yourself. We don’t need you to have a setback.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “I’ve already missed one day. I’m not missing another. Besides, I want to see what Sebastian has planned. He was being very mysterious about today’s location.”

She crossed the hall to her room.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you start feeling bad again,” I called out.

“I promise.”

“I mean it, Lucy. Don’t push yourself just because you think you have to be there.”