Delilah whirled around to find Lane standing there, his arms crossed, biceps bulging, an amused yet exhausted expression on his handsome face. She ran over to grab her phone and pa
used the music before she turned to face him once more.
“What are you doing here?”
He entered the enclosed studio, his heavy footsteps echoing in the otherwise empty room. “Watching you.”
She wiped at her sweaty forehead. God, she must look a mess. “How long?”
“Long enough to confirm you can’t sing for crap.” He grinned and she reached out to shove him. He caught her wrist before she could make contact with his chest, which was probably for the best since she would have just grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. “Seriously, Dee. That was bad.”
“I thought I was alone.” She disentangled herself from his grip, uneasy with the way her skin tingled where he touched her. Now that she knew how he kissed, had experienced his mouth on her body, in the most intimate of places, she felt . . . weird. Not weird in a bad way. More like weird in a how-fast-can-I-get-Lane-naked way.
“I really only just walked in. Saw your car parked out front and wanted to make sure you were okay.” He sent her one of those stern sexy looks that both irritated and melted her every time. “You left the door unlocked. Again.”
She shrugged. “I forgot. Besides, it’s no big deal.” The town was small. She always left the door unlocked. Wildwood was safe.
“In the summer it always gets worse around here.” His gaze met hers. “There was a break-in at Hillside a few nights ago.”
“Shut up.” She gaped at him. The Hillside Market sat opposite the studio, on the other side of the parking lot. “Did you catch them?”
“Nah. Figured it was just kids, but still. I don’t like you keeping the door unlocked when you don’t have classes going on. I mean it, Dee. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your place of business.”
“Aw, I’m touched that you’re so concerned.” She really was but she also liked giving him a hard time. And he knew it too. “Did you get any sleep?”
“I’m headed home now to crash out.” He made a face. “Then I need to stop by my parents’ house.”
“Do you want me to go with you when you see your mom? Just for moral support?” She didn’t want to seem too forward but he might need someone to lean on. Not that it was any of her business, but still. She’d known the Gallaghers for what felt like her entire life. His mom had been nothing but kind to her since she was a little girl. She didn’t like the idea of her suffering or sick.
Delilah didn’t like the idea of Lane suffering either.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I need to go this alone. Or maybe I’ll ask Wren.” He rested his hand on her bare shoulder and gave it a squeeze. His fingers teased the thick strap of her sports bra. “You understand, right? It’s nothing against you, Dee. I promise. It’s just—”
“I understand,” she interrupted, offering him a brief smile. She did. This was a family matter. He squeezed her shoulder again, and her skin went hot. Her nipples pebbled beneath the tight sports bra she wore—and that was all she wore besides her cropped black leggings.
And of course, Lane noticed, his gaze dropping to her chest and lingering there yet again. He tugged on her shoulder, not saying a word, and she took a step toward him. Then another, until she bumped up against him and his other hand snuck beneath her chin, tilting her face up . . .
“Yoo-hoo! What are you doing here so early?” Wren called, the heavy front door slamming behind her.
Lane and Delilah sprang away from each other, and she hoped like crazy she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “I should ask you the same question,” she said as Wren entered the studio.
Wren stopped short when she saw the two of them standing in the middle of the studio, and she shot Lane a questioning glance. “What’s up?”
“Just checking on Dee.” He nodded in Delilah’s direction as he turned toward Wren. “Making sure everything’s okay.”
“And everything’s fine,” Delilah said, flashing Wren a bright smile. “Really.”
Wren remained quiet, her expression full of suspicion. Not that Delilah could blame her. They were acting fairly obvious what with the way Lane wouldn’t even look at her. And she wouldn’t look at him.
And her nipples were probably still telling a story too, because it definitely wasn’t cold in the studio. Not by a long shot.
Funny thing was, they didn’t need to hide anything from Wren. Well, Delilah didn’t. Wren knew how she felt. But Lane wasn’t telling anyone how he felt.
Not even Delilah. And it drove her crazy.
“I’ll talk to you later?” Lane sent her a pointed look.
Shivery tingles swept over her skin as she nodded and smiled softly. “Bye, Lane.”