Page 20 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
“Why do you always ask me that?”
She wanted him to be annoyed at her resistance, but the hangover was just beginning to set in and being stubborn was far too troublesome. “I have to ask it.”
He stood up, stretching his arms to the ceiling. His back popped, and he smiled at her bookcase. “I’m surprised you actually texted me. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Can’t resist a late-night text message, can you?” She tried to scowl but it didn’t work, so she just shut her eyes tight.
“Nope, especially from a girl who’s home alone sick.”
Taken aback she gaped at him, and a smirk crossed his face. “Forget that. It was definitely an unintentional reference to a booty call.”
I wish I had never listened to myself.
“Pardon?”
She looked up. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Never mind,” she grumbled. “You can go home now. You’re probably tired from not having a million people over to have fun.”
“So you’re my keeper now? I knew it!” He did a victory clap, and she was appalled that his biceps caught her attention so easily. “First my gardening schedule, now my sleep schedule? No wonder you’re so good at helping people organize their lives. I couldn’t have hand-picked a better neighbor, Lil.”
Nickname? Did he just give me a nickname? “Let’s give up this passive-aggressive—”
“Flirting?” he finished.
Her words balled into a hard lump in her throat, and she couldn’t even hear her thoughts. The air got very still. Cayden stood there at the foot of her bed, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, with one eyebrow raised. He looked so comical, but also serious. It wasn’t a joke. He had meant it.
Finally she found her voice, but it was reduced to a whisper. “I didn’t mean to text you.”
“Are you glad you did?” He didn’t move his feet, but he put his hands in his pockets.
Her skin got hot. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
They looked at each other for a little while. Lillian wished desperately that the cats would come in and give her some distraction, but there was no sign of them. It was just her and Cayden there, and she was in the bed undoubtedly looking far from her best, and he was much sexier than anyone she had come into contact with in a long time.
As they stared, the feeling of him picking her up and carrying her in here earlier came back, so real that for a second she got lost and thought it was actually happening again. She wanted it to happen again. No amount of alcohol or additional clients crammed into her routine could hide that. For a long time, many years, she had secretly prided herself on being able to bury anything she didn’t want to remember or anything that hurt her, and it would never rise to the surface again.
All that, in this moment, was shattering, and she could almost hear the pieces falling and hitting the ground.
“So...I did some yard work earlier.”
Is he trying to make small talk? “Oh, fun,” she replied, trying to go with it.
“Yeah, I got a little carried away and ended up working on yours, too.”
“You did my yard again?”
He winked, and nodded proudly.
“This is too much, Cayden. You can’t keep doing this.”
His face fell. “Why not?”
“Just...because.”
“Because you like to do everything alone? Drink alone? Live alone? Let your yard decompose alone?”
