Chapter 25 – Lilah
Chapter Twenty-Five
LILAH
M y head is down, and I’m reading what I just wrote when I hear the sound of my name being shouted. “Lilah!” Lucy says it as she comes in from the back where the barn is instead of coming from the front door like she always does. I look over toward where her voice was last heard and see her walking in with the biggest smile on her face. “Lilah.” She runs over to my desk. “Lilah, guess what?” she chirps, her voice so animated I can’t help but laugh at her.
“What?” I ask and look over her shoulder at her father, who is walking into the room but stops at the doorjamb and leans against it. His feet are crossed at his ankles, while one of his hands holds a brown bag. His hair is pushed back by his fingers, and my mouth waters at the same time that my fingers itch to touch his hair. Something I did all night long because he was either on top of me or his head was between my legs. The memories are now making another part of me perk up.
“I rode a horse today,” she announces with all the excitement. “It was Rosy.”
I smile at her. “How was it?”
“Amazing.” She opens her arms to the sides. “But”—she looks over at Emmett—“he wouldn’t let me go fast.”
I roll my lips not to snort out laughing. “You have to start slow,” I say. “Step one is getting on the horse”—she watches me—“and earning Rosy’s trust before you can go fast.”
“I’m going to ride her every day,” she declares. “Will you come with me next time?”
“You bet,” I say. “We can ride her after school.”
“Yes,” she cheers. “We also brought you lunch.”
“Did you?” I ask as she turns and walks back to Emmett to get the bag from him.
“We can’t eat with you,” she says as she hands me the bag, “because you have to do your homework.” I smile at her as I take the bag from her. “I got you a sweet treat,” she says, whispering but not really whispering.
“Thank you,” I say, and then my eyes fly to Emmett.
“Come on, Lucy. Let’s go so Lilah can get back to work.” He motions with his head. “Time to show you how to muck the stalls.”
“Gross,” she mumbles, “Wyatt told me it stinks.” Her nose goes up, and her face grimaces a disgusted look.
“It does.” I mimic her face. “But that’s what you have to do when you love your animal.”
“I guess,” she concedes as she walks toward Emmett.
“Let me know if you’ll be joining us for dinner,” he says, and I look down at the document.
“I might be late. You should eat without me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Got it. I’ll leave the door open,” he says. I want him to come to me and kiss me. Pull my head back so I can look up at him and kiss my lips. I swallow down the words and don’t ask him to come kiss me, watching him turn and walk away with Lucy by his side.
I close my eyes and open the bag, taking out the wrap they got for me. “Focus,” I remind myself.
I turn my eyes back to the thesis I’m doing about understanding equine-assisted psychotherapy and horse-healing relationships with PTSD. I get up a couple of times to pee, and to get myself some water. The sun goes down, and the only light in the office is from my computer. My eyes start to burn when I finally decide to call it a night. Getting up and stretching, I feel the achiness in my lower back. I save my work before shutting down my computer and heading out the back door toward my truck. The only sound in the air is the sound of the crickets coming from the forest, looking to see even the lights in Charlie’s house are off.
I make my way over to Emmett’s house, noticing the house is dark, except for the soft light by the front door. Walking up the steps, I turn the handle and open the door. The front entry is in darkness almost, a soft light coming from the family room shines all the way to the front door.
I kick off my shoes and quietly walk inside, stopping when I see him lying on the couch watching television in the dark. The light from the stove adds to the light from the television, allowing me to see him. “Hey,” I say softly.
He looks over at me and sits up. “Hey,” he replies softly. I see him as he stands up wearing just gym shorts and nothing else.
“Sorry I’m so late. I didn’t even notice what time it was until my neck screamed at me from looking down for so long.”
“Did you eat?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m going to just make some toast.”
“I saved you dinner,” he informs me, closing the distance between us. “Why don’t you go and get a shower and I’ll warm it up for you?” he suggests, and all the words stay stuck in the back of my throat.
“Okay.” That is the only thing I can say as I walk toward the bedroom where my things are.
“Lilah,” he calls, making me stop, and I look over my shoulder at him, “go use mine. It’s bigger.”
“Okay,” I agree, “I’m just going to get my things.”
I walk as quietly as I can into the hall, seeing Lucy’s room dark with her door almost closed as I go to my room. I head to my bag and open it, grabbing a pair of shorts and matching shirt, before heading out and seeing him in the kitchen. “I’ll be quick,” I tell him, and he just nods at me as I hear a pan come out. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make you a steak.”
“But I thought you said you kept dinner for me.” I look at him confused.
“Yeah, well, I have the sides, but the steak is going to be fresh,” he informs me, and I don’t say anything. I just walk to his bedroom because I’m afraid I might just sob out. No one has ever taken care of me like that. No one has made sure I ate during the day. I mean my parents, but that is what they’re there for. I’ve never had anyone who cared enough before to make sure I ate. I walk into the bedroom and see the bedside table lamp is on and his bed is made. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower, quickly undressing and folding my stuff to take out with me when I leave.
I step in and let the water rain over me, when the first tear escapes me. I wipe it away as another one comes and I fight them away. I don’t waste time, and when I get out of the shower and dry myself off, the aroma of steak now fills the house. I get dressed as fast as I can, grabbing my clothes and taking them with me. “Right on time,” he says, looking at me walking into the kitchen. “Just took the steak out of the pan.” He puts it on the plate.
“I’m just going to drop this in the room.” I hold up the clothes in my hand and he comes over to me.
“Give me that,” he says, grabbing my clothes from me, “and go eat.”
“You’re bossy,” I huff but don’t move from in front of him, wanting to touch him but not sure if I should. The way my stomach flips and flutters makes it even worse. I’ve been naked in his bed, yet standing in front of him, I’m so nervous I might throw up on his feet. I watch him walk back to his bedroom and then come back empty-handed. “Where are my clothes?”
“In my basket,” he states as if that is where they belong. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“How am I supposed to do my clothes if they are in your basket?” I close my eyes when the stinging starts again.
“I’ll throw them in with mine,” he replies.
“You do laundry?” I know the question is dumb but I’ve never thought of him as domesticated.
“If I want clean clothes.” He laughs. “Learned when I was eight that if I wanted clean clothes, I had to wash them myself.” He gives me a little insight into his past, something I’ve always been curious about, but never gotten the nerve to ask him.
“I can also do them,” I suggest. “I like doing it.”
“No one likes doing laundry, Lilah.” He laughs, and my hand moves before I can stop it, reaching up to his face, wanting to touch his face while he laughs.
“I actually do,” I say softly as my fingertips feel his cheek. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have homework to do?” he asks, and I nod.
“I’ll do a load before I leave.” I step even closer to him.
“How about I take care of that and you take care of your homework? Now, for the last time, go and eat.”
“Okay,” I agree, about to turn but get on my tippy-toes and kiss his lips. “Thanks for making me dinner.” I turn and walk over to grab the plate before going to the table and sitting down. “Will you sit with me?” I ask, and he comes over and pulls out the chair he always has sat in the last couple of times I’ve eaten here. “How was today?”
“Amazing,” he says with a smile as I cut my steak and put a piece in my mouth. The spices make my mouth water as I chew it.
“How did Rosy do?” I ask of the special horse I knew would go to Lucy the minute she walked in with Emmett.
“She was so good,” he replies, and I smile as I grab a forkful of the corn he made as a side, along with the roasted potatoes.
“How was Lucy?” I’m sad I missed it but happy the two of them got to share that moment.
“She was…” He shakes his head. “She’s a fucking natural.” He chuckles.
“Well, she obviously got it from her father.” I point the fork at him.
“She learned from somewhere,” he states, and I see his eyebrows go up. “Want to know what else she learned?” I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to say whatever it is he needs to say. “She asked me when she could go fast.” I chuckle and then quickly put my hand in front of my mouth to stop the noise. “She’s out for the count. She slept like an hour last night and then I made her ride and muck stalls all day long. She was begging to go to sleep at five.” We both laugh now.
I finish eating the whole plate before I walk over to the sink and rinse it off and put it in the dishwasher. I’m wiping my hands when the room goes into darkness when the television goes off. I look over at his shadow walking to me. “Ready for bed?” His voice is low, and he slides his hand into mine as we make our way to his bedroom and his bed.
“Am I sleeping in here?” I ask as we walk into his bedroom, and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to him.
“Yeah, baby,” he confirms before his mouth is on mine, and he walks me backward to his bed. “This is where you’re going to sleep.” I don’t say anything else because I get lost in him.