Page 50 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
“I don’t think so. Let’s have a role shift and let me be the one to tell you to relax this time.” She never wanted him to let go. “Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yeah, early. Client at nine.”
“So, I guess that means you aren’t staying tonight.”
“I think I’ll sleep here. Maybe tomorrow I’ll stay over, if you’ll have me.” There was that mischievous glint in his eyes. “You want breakfast in the morning?”
“Sure.”
“It’s a date. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Date?” she squeaked, drawing back suddenly.
“Be there,” he pointed to her house, “or be square. Even though you’re anything but square. You’re like a line. A very small line.”
“Shut up.” Lillian pushed him and turned her back, putting a little extra swing in her hips as she walked. “See you in the morning.”
His voice carried across the yard just as she opened her door. “Sleep well, gorgeous.”
Gorgeous. Her heart felt like it grew two sizes. Cayden stood over there with that seductive smirk he gave her what seemed like all the time, and her blood pumped hard.
Do something cheeky, she dared herself. Tease him. Blowing him a kiss, she walked inside and locked the door behind her. That wasn’t a tease, stupid. There are so many better things you could have done! Scratch your cleavage or something, at least. She rolled her eyes. Just put the food away and go to bed.
The stew pot was already washed and put away, and the bread was wrapped in foil. Lillian looked around for something to wash or put away, but everything was done. He didn’t have to do that. She was impressed at how fast he had gotten it all cleaned up, and humorously decided he wasn’t so bad to have around after all.
A big yawn overcame her and she suddenly realized how much her energy level had depleted. That doesn’t feel right. Nothing she had eaten recently was a trigger food or out of the ordinary for her diet. Over on the counter the bottles seemed to stare at her.
I don’t need those. I must just be tired. She was always tired after any amount of time with Claire, and then she had gone to another appointment before rushing home to prepare the house for Andrew.
Tuning her ears, she couldn’t hear any sounds coming from the other end of the house. Andrew must have been done with his shower; she hoped he didn’t pop out of his room and want to talk. She pushed herself out of the chair and leaned against the counter as she poured water in her glass.
Why am I dizzy? I didn’t even drink any wine.
Her head got too light to think anymore, so her muscle memory led her through her nightly routine of washing her face and brushing her teeth. Time blurred; once she was in the bed with the lights turned out, she couldn’t recall anything that happened since she was in the kitchen.
“I’m just tired,” she whispered to herself, and tried to scratch an itch on her arm. It was no use; her arm was too heavy to lift. She couldn’t roll over, either. Everything weighed thousands of pounds and she was stuck there on her back, in the dark.
The last thing she felt before her body crashed into a deep slumber was a slight sensation of fear. Something didn’t feel right, but her mind was too far gone to spend energy figuring it out.
Blackness enveloped every tiny source of light in her room and quickly pulled her into its grasp as well.
Chapter 10
All those people are laughing at me.
She felt herself shaking.
My skin’s wet. Why is my skin wet? Why’s everything so dark? I can’t see their faces anymore; where did they go?
The ground gave way beneath her and she lurched forward, flailing her arms and legs all over the place in desperate search of a grip.
But everything was black, and she couldn’t see a single thing.
The hysterical laughing of what sounded like thousands of people echoed down into wherever she was falling and stuck in her head like glue. Wind rushed past her as if she was in a hurricane, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Lillian’s eyes flew open but she was blind for a moment, still lost in the nightmare. She couldn’t sit up from the dizziness of the fall. It had felt so scarily real. Her fingernails scraped against the blanket as she white-knuckled the sheets, breathing hard.
She may as well have just run a marathon.
