Page 15 of Wrecked for Love
I hesitated for a second, then gently placed my hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
After a moment, she finally seemed to come back to the present, her eyes locking onto mine as her breathing began to slow. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice shaky and disoriented.
“You’re in my house,” I said softly. “I’m Elia. Remember?” I kept my voice calm, not wanting to push her too hard. I wasn’t sure where her mind was right now—still tangled in that dream or here with me.
She exhaled a long, trembling breath. “Shit…did I hurt you?”
“No,” I reassured her, though her push had packed a punch. “You were shaking on the floor. It looked like you were having a hell of a nightmare.”
She pushed herself aside, refusing most of my help, her body tense and closed off. I hovered nearby, unsure whether to reach out again or give her space.
Maybe bursting into her room half-naked wasn’t the smartest move. I stood there in nothing but my pajama shorts, my chest bare, and it struck me that this probably wasn’t helping. But hell, getting dressed had been the last thing on my mind when I heard the noise. All I could think about was making sure she was okay.
She must’ve felt awkward, too—maybe even more so, given the way her eyes darted away from me like she was trying not to notice. I couldn’t blame her. The situation was strange enough without adding my lack of clothing into the mix.
I ruffled a hand through my hair, trying to break the tension. “Sorry,” I muttered, realizing how ridiculous this must seem. “Didn’t exactly plan on making a grand shirtless entrance.”
The faintest trace of a smirk touched her pale face. “It’s your house,” she said, her voice still unsteady. “I’m the one who should be apologizing for waking you.”
At that moment, she wasn’t Miss Chili Pepper or some hardened road warrior. She was just a woman, exhausted and at the end of her rope.
“You don’t need to apologize for that,” I replied, trying to figure out how I could protect her without coming across as the very thing I’d promised not to be—a creep.
I glanced at Koda, who was pacing outside the door. “Why don’t you let him keep you company tonight?” I suggested.
She managed a small nod, her agreement quiet but certain.
I called Koda over, and he padded straight to her and nuzzled her side. I stepped out to grab his bedding. “Just, uh…try to keep him off the bed, okay? He stays here,” I told her, tapping the spot.
Claire nodded again.
I spread Koda’s favorite blanket out, keeping the heater on, and he obediently settled in. “Good boy.” I gave him a pat, running my hand over his muzzle.
I offered her a hand as she struggled to get up. She took it, and as she stood, her long T-shirt rode up just a bit. I didn’t mean to look, but I caught a glimpse of her slender thighs, the faint lines of muscle there. And, mercy on my soul, she wasn’t wearing a bra. For a second, I felt like one of those dumb guys who needed to be reminded, “Hey, my eyes are up here.”
Damn me.
I gave myself a mental slap and forced my focus back to her face.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, having not forgotten the thudding sound I had entered into.
“No, I’m fine. Just stiff from the drive,” she replied.
“Okay. Good night, Claire. If you need anything, just holler, okay?”
She nodded. “Good night, Elia.”
Everyone in town called me El. My folks used to call me Elia, and I never gave it much thought back then. But after they were gone, I realized how much I’d missed it. Now, hearing my full name come from her lips? It felt like a slow breeze carrying a secret meant just for me. Something about it settled deep inside in a way I hadn’t expected.
I gave Claire a nod and left the room, heading back to the couch. Sitting there, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the one caught walking through my own dream.
6
ELIA
The next morning, the first thing I did was check on Claire. The door was nearly closed but no longer jammed, thanks to that kick. The lock was busted, and the frame cracked. Through the narrow gap, I could only see one side of the room—Koda’s bed, empty.
I turned back. I didn’t need to see her; I just needed to know if anything was off. Trusting my mutt and the hush, I figured everything was fine, and I knew exactly where my boy had gone—with her, in bed.
