He blinked, came back online, and opened the door.
She wore her fluffy white robe, the heavier one she wore in cool weather. She’d been crying. Her hair was still in its sex-tousle, loose and wild. She looked like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, his mother’s favorite movie of all time.
She was perfect. Totally perfect. He hated seeing that sadness, wanted to take it away. Wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and take her back to bed to perfect what they’d started. Be worthy of her. Make her feel good. Make her feel safe. Protect her.
Well, he wanted one thing more—not to have taken her virginity. Her father would know. How he’d know didn’t matter. There was no doubt in Alex’s mind that Don Pagano would know. And he would not be pleased.
“Alex, please don’t be mad,” she said. Pleading.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Pretty impressive, the ability to make words right now.
“Why is it your business?” Less pleading, more edge.
“What do you think your father is going to do, Lee?”
“Why is it his business?”
He didn’t answer, because they both knew damn well why.
“I have to go, Lia.”
“No! Please don’t! Even if you don’t care about me, just don’t go after—not right away after—please, Alex!”
She was right—he was a double-decker bastard for leaving right now, but he was starting to feel panicky, and he needed to get somewhere alone to get control of himself.
Trying to keep calm, he cupped her face. “I’m sorry, Lia. I do care about you, but I have got to go.” With a light kiss to her trembling lips, he headed for the door.
As he reached for the knob, there was a crash behind him.
Lia was on the floor, out cold. She’d brought one of the ice-cream parlor chairs down with her.
~oOo~
She wasn’t out long. By the time he had her cradled in his arms, she was awake and embarrassed. When she tried to squirm from his arms, he clamped her close and carried her the few steps to her bed.
There was a spot of blood on her white sheets, too—just a little one, but it still wigged him out—so he set her on the other side and tried very hard not to think of that red dot.
At least her passing out gave him something to focus on and do.
“I’m gonna call 911,” he said as he pulled the comforter over her.
She grabbed his hand. “No, I don’t need that. I’m okay.”
“You just passed out, Lia. That is not okay.”
“I think I’m just … stressed. And tired. Really tired. It’s been a weird, hard day.”
Alex sat at the edge of the bed, by her hip, and considered her. “Did you ever eat yet today? All I saw was you dismantling a muffin that went nowhere near your mouth.”
“It’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
“No. Nope. Not right now. I don’t give a fuck about your weird diet thing, or you thinking you need to lose weight when your hipbones already jut out like fucking mountains, but I am not adding letting Lia Pagano expire from starvation to my long list of sins I’ve committed against your father today. Nope.”
She shoved herself up to sit against the headboard. Alex had a flash of an image of her gripping that headboard in the throes of a spectacular orgasm. He shook it off.
“You haven’t done anything to my father. He’s not here. I don’t want to talk about my father. I’ll eat, but only if you promise not to mention his name or refer to him in any way for the rest of the day.”
“You’ll eat what I give you to eat?”
“What if you give me something I don’t like?”
“You think I don’t know what you like to eat?”
She smiled at that—brightly, almost like all this weirdness and looming death wasn’t happening. The shine was so powerful it lightened his mood, too.
“Do you promise?” she asked.
“I promise.”
“Okay, I’ll eat. What are you going to order?”
“Nothing. I’m gonna cook. You stay put.” He patted her leg and moved to stand, but Lia grabbed his arm.
“Alex. Do you like me? Like … you know. Like that.”
He answered her as honestly and seriously as he could. “I do, Lee. A lot. But … it’s complicated. For reasons I am not presently at liberty to say.”
“I like you, too. It feels good, to like you like that. It felt good to do what we did, even if …” She shook off the rest of that sentence