“I don’t know how long this is going to take.”
“Of course you don’t.” He lifts his head and I pull away slightly so I can start rubbing his shoulders. “But you need to be there for her.”
“I have to leave. Right now. The drive is at least four hours.” He hangs his head. “God, that feels good.”
I rub harder, trying to work out all the knots I can feel in his muscles. “When you come back, I’ll give you a full body massage.”
Wade glances at me over his shoulder, his expression hopeful, though I can see the exhaustion around his eyes. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I lean in and kiss him softly on the lips. When I try to pull away though, he follows, kissing me again. And again. Until his tongue is in my mouth and I somehow end up in his lap, his hands gripping my butt, my naked body wound all around him.
The kiss spirals out of control fast, until I’m basically gyrating on him and his hands are everywhere, his erection straining against his jeans. I know this isn’t the time, but maybe a quickie would be good. One last moment together before he’s gone for days, maybe even weeks.
God, I’ll miss him. I don’t want him to leave me ever.
“I don’t have another condom,” he says minutes later, between ragged breaths, and I sag against him, the disappointment washing over me in thick, heavy waves. We can’t do anything. We shouldn’t do anything. He needs to leave. Now. “Fuck.”
Frustration vibrates off his big body and I crawl off his lap, diving back under the covers and pulling them up to my chin. My entire body is tingling, primed and ready for action, and I watch as Wade rises to his feet, running a hand through his messy hair before he turns to look at me.
“Text me when you get there, okay?”
“I will.” He nods, his expression pained, his gaze haunted. “You won’t forget me when I’m gone?”
Like that’s even possible. “Never.” I pause, the question hanging on the tip of my tongue. Screw it. I’m asking him. “We’ll still be good when you come back though, right?”
“What do you mean?” He frowns.
“This. What we have. When you come back from taking care of your mom? Or will we miss the expiration date?”
I wait nervously for his answer. We have that one-week deadline Fable and Drew set for us. Is Wade still following it too?
“Forget the expiration date,” he says.
“Really?” I sound hopeful—maybe even desperate.
“Yeah. We don’t have an expiration date.” He comes to me, bending down to give me a fierce kiss on the lips. “I’ll be back soon. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nod, pressing my lips together.
“I mean it.”
I nod again, because I’m too scared to talk. Afraid I might burst into tears instead.
“This is more than a fake one week relationship. You understand that, right, Sydney?” His voice is stern, as is his expression. He means business.
“I do. It’s the same for me.”
“Good.” He kisses me again.
And then he’s gone.
That’s when I let go and cry.
It actually takes me five hours to get back to my hometown. Traffic was shit—stop and go—all the way out of the Bay Area, even up to Sacramento, but once I hit Interstate 5 and then Highway 99, it was all clear. I let my lead foot take over and went over the speed limit all the way, trying my damnedest to make up for all that lost time.
I can’t stop worrying about my mom, all alone at the hospital and waiting for me to come be with her. It tears me up, imagining my mom injured and unable to take care of herself. She’s the strongest woman I know, next to Fable. My mom was always there for me, no matter what.
The one time she needs me the most, and I’m not there for her.
To distract myself, I focus on Sydney. How she’s imprinted herself all over me. Hell, after that crazed kiss earlier before I left her room, I can smell her. I still smell her, her scent clinging to my clothes, lingering in my head.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess I was halfway in love with her.
She’s the one thing that keeps me focused, keeps me pressing on. I don’t know why. I should be focused solely on my mother, but I’m not. And that’s okay. Someone else has come into my life now. Someone who is becoming important to me at an accelerated pace.
For once in my life, I’m not inclined to stop it.
By the time I roll into the hospital parking lot, I’m exhausted, hungry and grumpy as shit. I need to find my mom and make sure she’s okay, then grab something to eat.
Luckily enough the nurses are patient with me and helpful, and I find my mom’s room number with relative ease. I hesitantly knock and then walk into her room, mentally preparing myself for what she might look like. She just went through a car accident. I’m going to guess she’s pretty banged up.
And she is.
She’s propped up in bed sleeping, her head wrapped in gauze, with two black eyes and a nasty scrape on her cheek. She’s completely still, almost too still, and seeing her like this freaks me out, though I try to remain composed. But I guess she has a mom’s sixth sense or whatever because her eyes pop open within moments of me arriving, and she slowly turns her head to see me standing there, unsure and feeling scared like I’m a little kid.
“Wade.” She tries to smile, but it looks like it hurts her to move, so she quits. “Come here.”