Whisper to Me

by Christina Lee

  “There’s no need for that, Rachel,” I said, meeting her eyes. “That’s what friends are for.”

  As I crawled along the lot toward the exit, Rachel’s fingers stayed on my thigh. They ran lazy circles while she talked about the grand opening of her mom’s boutique in a couple of weeks. “You’ll be there, right?”

  “Of course I will,” I said, in an effort to catch my breath.

  Her fingers skimmed higher up my leg, and I stilled them with my own. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

  She scooted over on the seat, biting her lip, suddenly unsure of herself.

  My fingers reached for her face and I traced her forehead, the hollow of her cheek, the outline of her lips. She was all beautiful curves and sharp angles. I longed to protect her and hold her. Whisper sweet promises in her ear.

  But she was a contradiction beneath my touch. Her eyes were now alight with flame and desire. Her touch seductive and playful. But in the very depths of her heart were hesitation and doubt, and that made me shrink back with uncertainty and fear.

  She leaned over to kiss my neck, and her hand tugged at my hair.

  “Are you trying to run me off the road?” I whispered.

  “You’re just going to have to pay better attention,” she mumbled as she caught my earlobe between her teeth. “I trust you.”

  My heart swelled painfully in my chest. “Good thing I’m taking the back roads,” I mumbled, turning left onto Bailey Boulevard.

  Her hand reached lower to flick open the button on my pants.

  “Rach . . .” I said in warning, but it was a deflated effort, because I was already hard as goddamn marble just from her lips being near me.

  She pulled down my zipper, and her warm hand skimmed beneath my waistband. It was a struggle to pay attention to the road, with her scent wrapped all around me. But it was late and dark and there were no cars ahead or behind us.

  Her fingers moved downward and when she gripped my head, I groaned.

  She pulled my dick out of my pants and ran her fingers over the underside of my shaft as if examining it. I gasped for air and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What kind of piercing is this, anyway?”

  “Why, are you taking notes?” I said, slowing down at a stop sign. “It’s called a frenum, and it’s pretty tame in comparison to some. I hear sex can be mind-blowing with the other kinds.”

  “Is that why you got this?” She slid her pinky finger through the hoop of my piercing, making me insane with need. “So that you could have better sex?”

  “Not exactly,” I huffed, as she began pumping her fingers up and down my shaft, pulling the sensitive skin near my piercing taut.

  But maybe there was some truth to that. If I was being honest, I got some of these piercings so that I’d actually feel something besides numb. And they did the trick, for brief snatches of time. “Sex can be terrible no matter what—you know that.”

  “I do know that,” she said. And I gritted my teeth because I hated hearing it.

  I was still at a crossroads and there were no cars in sight. Even so, I didn’t want to be reckless, not with Rachel. Not when she always put so much faith in me. So I decided to drive ahead, until I found someplace safe to pull over.

  Her mouth moved to my ear. “I’m getting worked up thinking about how this would feel inside me. How you would feel inside me.”

  “Fuck, Rachel.”

  “So maybe you should find somewhere to park.” And then her head was between my legs and I felt the flick of her hot tongue running over my piercing. I groaned and clutched at her hair.

  “What the hell are you up to?” I considered asking her to stop because I was wound too damn tight. But I was pretty sure if she pulled away now, I’d die a slow and painful death.

  Her lips were around my swollen tip, her mouth was wet and warm, and as she licked and sucked, I was sure I was going to explode in another few seconds. Because the sight of having her between my legs was enough to sustain my fantasies for years to come.

  As I searched for a place to stop, her tongue slid seductively up my shaft. “I told you I wanted to thank you.”

  That statement threw a bucket of ice on my libido. I jerked the wheel and pulled off the side of the road. “Whoa, Rachel. Hold up a minute.”

  She sat up, her face a ball of confusion. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t want you sucking my dick because you feel like you need to thank me for something,” I said through clenched teeth. I banged my fist against the steering wheel. I was so pissed and disappointed I was seeing stars. “Or even because you just saw Miles tonight and feel confused.”

  She gasped, her hand clamping over her mouth.

  “Go down on me because you want to, plain and simple,” I said. “Because I turn you on and make you feel things. Because you like being with me.”

  Her mouth fell open and her eyes became glassy. “That’s . . . that’s not at all what I meant.”

  I adjusted myself in my seat, anger slipping out of me. God, things were feeling all fucked up again.

  “For the record, you dickwad,” she said, her hands shaking, “I’ve never thought about Miles when I’ve been with you. Not once.”

  “Shit! I . . . I don’t know how this got so—” I began, but she cut me off.

  “You’re the sexiest fucking guy I know.” Her voice had pitched higher and her finger jabbed at my shoulder. “You make my head spin. I get so . . . tied up in knots around you.”

  She shivered and rocked back against the seat. “This is getting so messed up.”

  My stomach slumped to the ground. “Rachel, wait . . .”

  “We . . . I . . . should’ve never started all of this,” she mumbled. “Just take me the fuck home.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Rachel

  I had trouble sleeping all night. Not only because of what had gone down between Kai and me, but also because I had a killer headache and felt like I was going to vomit. Which may have been caused by Kai as well. Or maybe just too much wine.

  I never thought I’d feel worlds apart from him like I had hours ago. Everything felt so jumbled in my brain. I wanted to be close to him in all possible ways, but maybe it was just as well that we got back to our roots—to just being friends.

  I knew without question he’d always be there for me. He’d always have my back. I needed to get over this . . . this . . . whatever this was. It felt like I had the flu—dizzy, feverish, and nauseous. I must have had the mother of all crushes. What other explanation could there have been?

  Nate and Jessie had taken off that night, as had Shane. But Dakota had slept in my bed so that Avery and Bennett could use her room. Ella and Quinn insisted on sleeping on an inflatable mattress on the living room floor.

  I’d had Dakota to contend with as soon as I had walked through the door. Apparently, she had quite the conversation with Ella and Avery about me on the way home. She’d asked about what I’d been up to the last couple of years. We’d had a hushed argument as I tried to be honest and make her understand that I wasn’t trying to shut her out—I’d been trying to shut me out.

  I groaned as I attempted to open my eyes. The sunlight filtering through the blinds was too bright, the wind was whistling too loud, and I wasn’t sure if I’d even be able to lift my head.

  All the colors in the room seemed to blend together in a vivid halo of light as pain slashed across my head and neck. I shifted onto my side and realized that Dakota was no longer next to me. The strong odor wafting beneath the door was coffee, and I suddenly couldn’t tolerate the smell any longer.

  I moaned loudly, my trembling hands grasping my stomach, and then threw up over the side of the bed. Chill bumps like sharp icicles jabbed every square inch of my body as I shook violently. Something was seriously fucking wrong.

  I called out for the person I wanted, needed by my side. The person I was certain would take care of me. “Kai . . . please help me.”

&nbs
p; And then the room went dark.

  ***

  I’ll take care of you, Turtle. Please don’t leave me.

  My eyes opened in a blur of colors and sounds. The beeping of a machine, the hum of the ceiling light, the scratchy cotton material at my collarbone.

  Fear slammed into me like a locomotive train when I realized I was once more lying in a hospital bed. My chest constricted painfully, panic slicing through my veins—my brain might have been damaged all over again.

  My hand shot up to my hair. Despite the sudden relief that my arm still worked and my head wasn’t bandaged, I worried nonetheless about my ability to speak.

  Asleep in a chair next to my bed, my mother looked fuzzy around the edges, bright in the middle. “Mo . . . Mom.” My voice was scratchy and my throat felt dry, but I sagged with relief.

  My mother stirred and then slowly blinked open her eyes. Once she realized where she was, she shot straight up in her chair. “Rachel, baby. You’re awake.”

  All I could do was nod. I was scared and overwhelmed and so very tired from the effort.

  Other memories flashed through my brain. The pain at the base of my skull, the powerful tremors. Vomiting on the floor in my bedroom.

  She reached over and stroked my forehead. “Looks like your fever broke.” My skin felt clammy and my hospital gown seemed damp.

  Mom pushed the red button near the bed to signal for a nurse. “Your father and Kai left to get us decent coffees. The cafeteria version tastes more like tea. You know how your dad likes his caffeine strong and pricey.”

  “Kai?” I squeaked out.

  “Yes, honey. He and Dakota have been here all week,” she said, now caressing my cheek. “Your other friends had to go back home.”

  My gaze swept across the window. I could usually guess the time of day by the shadows. It was a trick I’d learned during my last extended stay. “All week?”

  “Technically, three days,” she said. “The doctor should be here any moment to give us the results of your scan.”

  That’s what I’d been afraid of. I tried to steady my voice. “Am I . . . is it my brain again?”

  “Honey, you developed meningitis,” she said, relief evident in her eyes as she delivered this news. “The reason you had a seizure is because of the swelling in your brain.”

  I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut. No, not this again.

  “Are they going to have to operate?” My voice tripped over the words.

  “No, sweetie. Absolutely not. Antibiotics took care of the infection,” she said. “You had a high fever, so you’ve been out of it for a couple of days.”

  I opened my eyes—they felt bruised from the effort.

  “The doctor assured us you’d recover quickly,” she said, squeezing my hand. “The meningitis could’ve been a long-term complication from your head injury. Or it might’ve just been a coincidence.”

  My mother’s voice was strong and sure, but I could see the fear behind her eyes. “We knew certain risks still existed. But you’re going to be just fine.”

  I nodded in relief and asked for a drink of water.

  As she reached for the cup and pitcher, I remembered the dream I’d been having just prior to waking up. It had felt so real.

  Kai’s mouth had been close to my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. And then he’d kissed my head and whispered something. Something so amazing, it had to have been a dream.

  Intimate and private. Words for me and me alone.

  I’m falling for you, Rachel. And I don’t know how to stop.

  Heat crept across my cheeks at the memory. Would I truly have wanted to hear those words? Since when had my innocent crush transformed into something real? Something more intense than anything I’d ever felt in my life?

  The realization that I had fallen in love with Kai was so raw, so visceral, I felt it deep in my gut. It was so commanding that I pulled my knees toward my chest, my muscles stiff and aching from the effort.

  Kai was an essential part of my life. As central as the very air I breathed.

  The door pushed open, and I sucked in a harsh breath, afraid that it would be Kai. That he’d see the glow hidden beneath my depths. The underpinnings of truth awakening in my brain. My heart dusting itself off, glinting, reaching. For the luminescent stars. For all that was exquisitely him.

  But it was a nurse who’d stepped inside the room.

  “She’s awake.” She was short and stout and had a friendly face. “Let me take your vitals.”

  My mother held the cup of water to my lips and I drank greedily. So parched, so thirsty. Not necessarily for water. But for something else. Someone else.

  As the nurse took my temperature, Kai swung through the door, followed by my dad.

  “Look who decided to join us this morning,” my mother said.

  Kai gave me a sweet, lopsided grin as his face went through a series of emotions. Relief, joy, affection. His gaze fixed to mine, he stepped aside, allowing my father to reach me first.

  “Good morning, baby girl,” my father said, grasping my hand.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I said, my voice trembling and unsteady. Just like my heart.

  I could feel Kai’s gaze like a thick rope tethering us together, despite the nurse stepping in his line of sight to write in the chart.

  “It’s all gonna be fine, honey,” my father said.

  I nodded. “Sorry if I gave you a scare.”

  He reached down to hug me.

  My mom was in the corner of the room speaking to the nurse. My father moved to the side table to pour cream and sugar into his large cup of Starbucks coffee.

  Kai sat down on the edge of my bed and wound his fingers through mine. I instantly felt calm. Comforted. Safe. “How you doing, Turtle?”

  “I’m okay,” I said, letting out a deep breath.

  I suddenly realized that being asleep for three days might not have been a great look on me and began smoothing my hair with my fingers. “But I must look like hell.”

  He reached for my hand to still my fingers and shook his head. “You always look pretty, Turtle.”

  I realized whatever I was trying to do would be of no use anyway. He had already seen me at my worst. “What happened, Kai?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” he said. “I heard you scream my name and when I got to your room, you were on the floor. Your body was convulsing.”

  “Shit,” I said.

  “Avery rushed into the room and told us you were having a seizure,” he said. Thank God we’d had a nurse in the condo. “She told us to protect your head from bashing into anything until it was over.”

  “Oh my God,” I said. I reached my hand to cover my mouth and the IV line yanked painfully at my skin.

  “It was freaking scary,” he said, meeting my eyes. “Dakota ran to call nine-one-one, but I just picked you up and carried you to my truck.”

  “You drove me to the hospital?” I asked, my eyebrows climbing to my hairline.

  His fingers tugged through his hair. “I wasn’t about to wait around.”

  “Thank you, Kai,” I said, and he squeezed my hand.

  The doctor swept into the room with his white coat and a thick Indian accent.

  “Everything checked out fine,” he said in the brusque way I’d become accustomed to after so many doctors. “You’ll be discharged tomorrow, provided you continue on your course of antibiotics. You need to rest and allow your body to recover for another few days. And be sure to make a follow-up appointment with your primary care physician.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, still on guard. Afraid to let my defenses down. Surrounded by my fears and anxieties and doubts.

  “Yes,” he said. “Meningitis is a fairly treatable condition and certainly can develop in patients who’ve experienced traumatic brain injury. You can resume normal activities as soon as you feel up to it.”

  He stepped out into the hall, and my parents followed behind to ask more questions.

  “Good n
ews,” Kai said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll text Dakota. She’ll call your friends—they’re waiting to hear, too.”

  “I can’t believe this happened.” My hand reluctantly released his fingers to allow him to use his phone. “The doctor made it sound like I just had the flu or something.”

  “Amazing how life throws you curve balls.” His eyes flicked to mine and then away. God, he was handsome, with his dark jeans and snug white shirt that illuminated his eyes.

  “I bet you ten bucks my parents try to convince me to stay home and commute to classes somewhere else this fall,” I said, my voice scratchy and unsure. Would Kai want that, too?

  “I think I’d lose that bet in a heartbeat,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re just going to have to convince them that you need to get back to your routine as soon as possible.”

  I nodded. My parents were sure to worry and resume their vigilant check-ins.

  “So now that you’re back in the land of the living, do you have any requests?” he asked, a devastating grin lifting his cheeks and overwhelming all of my senses.

  Shit, how in the hell was I supposed to get over him? Returning to college would definitely be the first step. I needed distance from him as soon as possible.

  “A hot shower and a toothbrush, for starters,” I said. “God, how out of it was I? I had all these wild fever dreams.”

  “Yeah, like what?” He brought his ankle to his knee as if settling in for a good story.

  “I don’t know. Just crazy stuff. You were in one of them.” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to take them back. But still, I needed to know. To look in his eyes when I said it out loud. “Like, we were alone and you were . . . whispering to me.”

  At first he looked confused and then stricken and finally his expression settled into something unreadable. “You were definitely in and out of consciousness and mumbling stuff. Your parents were here around the clock, so maybe you were . . . hearing them.”

  “Probably,” I said, trying to keep the harsh disappointment out of my voice.

  His eyes stayed on mine, his lips pursed as if words were hanging there, ready to be said. But then the moment was lost as my parents swept back inside the room.