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Chapter Three
Anna
“That was intense,” I say, pressing my fingers into my eye sockets on an exhale.
“Life can be like that.” Cyrus palms the wheel of his huge black SUV as we pull out of the parking garage at the hospital.
He made sure Brittany had about a hundred x-rays, an MRI and these little electrodes on her head to measure her brain activity. The doctor tried to take charge and protest, but Cyrus backed him up against the wall with a glare that told him there was no room for negotiation. He also made sure they understood if anything were to happen to Brittany due to their lack of care, he would come looking for them and nothing would be able to save them.
I’m surprised they didn’t call security and have him escorted out, but he has a way about him that makes people fall in line.
The doctors gave her the all clear, but they are keeping her overnight at Cyrus’s suggestion. A nurse will be with her through the night and one of the care managers from the center will stay as well, so we felt comfortable leaving.
“You hungry?” he asks, and as much as part of me wants to say yes, I need to get home. I have a huge day tomorrow with meetings at Welsh Center and with my father and some of his business partners, and I need to be prepared.
As well, I know this man, as wonderful as he has been, is not for me.
“No, not really.” I lie. I’m starving. “You can just drop me back at my car at the ball field. I need to get home.”
“Where’s home?” His voice washes through me like a warm breeze.
“Well,” I chuckle, holding my hand over my smile for a second before revealing my current living situation. “I still live with my parents, sort of. They are old school, you don’t move out until you’re married type of deal. I live in the guest house though. I managed to negotiate that much freedom.” I smile and see him nod, his face tense and serious like he’s analyzing and taking notes on everything I say.
I steal little glances at him as he drives. It’s so sexy how he lets his fingers dangle over the top of the steering wheel, controlling it with just the side of his hand. The radio is on some old R & B station. The volume is super low but I hear “Ain’t No Sunshine” come on and watch as Cyrus starts bobbing his head to the beat, singing the words in a low, gravely mumble.
Marvin Gaye got nothin’ on this man.
The swoony, deep bass of his voice rumbles into my heart as he sings without inhibition like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be doing right now.
It’s so sexy I want to climb on and take a ride to wherever he wants to take me. My underwear takes another direct hit as I think about how his chest looks under his tightly stretched t-shirt.
There’s the perfect hint of dark hair around the neckline and the definition of broad, thick pecs have me thinking about running my tongue over every ridge and groove in his torso, leading down to those crazy, amazing ‘V’ sort of muscles some guys have near their hips—
“Are you going to answer me?” His voice snaps me back from my fantasy.
“Uhhh, sorry. What did you ask?”
A wave of heat trails down my back along with a bead of sweat as he reaches over and rasps his knuckles over my cheek.
“You feel okay? You’re hot.”
So are you.
“Yeah. Just, hot in here.”
“A/C’s on high. You sure you’re okay?” He bites into his bottom lip like he’s trying to hold back a smirk.
I make the A-okay sign with my fingers. “All good over here.”
“Okay, so what’s with the other guy. The coach or whatever on the other team. I picked up on something. He’s not a friendly, is he?”
I sigh, crossing my ankles and adjusting myself in the leather seat which makes my sweaty thighs squeak as I move.
“No, not a friendly. He wants my job. And, he’s just sort of an asshole. Probably wasn’t breast fed as a baby.” The words tumble out and Cyrus lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, that wasn’t appropriate.”
“Don’t ever need to be appropriate around me, baby.” A shiver races through me at that word and I swallow hard as he finishes with, “Just be you. That’s all you need to do with me. Just be yourself and we’re all good.”
