Page 18 of Rockstar Rescue
"Can you explain?" I ask quietly, leaning forward.
"I guess you have to be forty to explain forty," he says finally. "It's when you've made all the mistakes a man can make and decide to spend the next forty years learning from them."
"That sounds like something a forty-year-old would say."
"You think I'm full of it."
"No," I say, meeting his gaze. "I think you're right. I probably won't understand until I'm there myself."
"Damn right," he says, and we chuckle. Charlie Boy joins with a happy bark that has us laughing all over again.
We finish our meal, talking about small things. Favorite movies, places we've been. But one thing is clear.
He’s lonely. Just like me.
After dinner, I gather our plates. "Please lay down and rest. I'll clean up."
When I finish washing dishes, I find him wearing my dad's old terrycloth robe. It had been my Christmas gift to him when I was seven.
I lean against the doorframe, fond memories of happy times washing over me.
Soon after that, he got busy at work.
Then I went off to college, only to be called back after freshmen year to tend him after he was diagnosed.
Those two years I spent caring for him were challenging. Watching him suffer was unbearable. I'm glad those painful days are over.
Standing here now, seeing Dylan in Dad's robe, brings it all rushing back with unexpected tenderness.
"Hey nurse Nancy," Dylan says, his voice low and playful. "Want to come into bed and keep me warm?"
I remember the promise I made to myself in the bathtub earlier. My throat tightens. "I want to," I admit, the honesty surprising me. "But I can't."
"Why can't you?" he asks, shifting on the bed. The movement causes the robe to slide open further, revealing more of his muscular thigh.
I can't help but stare at the way the terrycloth drapes over his body, at once concealing and highlighting every curve and plane.
"I just..."
My words trail off as I take in the sight of him. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the robe parting just enough to show a glimpse of tanned skin and the definition of muscles beneath.
It's like someone plucked my most private fantasy straight from my dreams and placed it right here in my cabin.
"Well, if you can't, you can't," he concedes with a small smile. "But come closer. At least give me a small kiss."
"All right." I walk toward him slowly, drawn by an invisible thread. The scent of him grows stronger with each step—clean skin, a hint of cologne, and something uniquely male that makes my pulse quicken.
When I reach the edge of the bed, he reaches up and gently pulls me closer, his fingers warm against my wrist.
His eyes lock with mine, dark and intense. I feel the heat of his body, hear the soft catch in his breathing.
I have a decision to make, and every cell in my body knows exactly what it wants.What will I do?
CHAPTER 11
GINNY
Ifollow Dylan into the bedroom, my pulse racing. The air feels colder back here, away from the fireplace.
