Stay with Me (With Me in Seattle 9)

“Hello,” she says on the second ring. She sounds wide-awake.

“Hey, Nat, it’s Lia. I don’t want to freak you out, but there’s been a fire here at the house.”

“Oh my God, Lia, are you okay?” There’s rustling around, and I hear Luke talking in the background. “There’s been a fire,” she says to him.

“I’m fine. It wasn’t in the house, it was out back in the studio.”

“Well, thank God for that,” she says. “Luke’s calling his mom to come be with the kids, and I’m getting dressed. We’ll be there soon.”

“I’m so sorry, Nat.”

“For what? You’re not an arsonist. Accidents happen, I’m just so relieved that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I’ll see you soon.”

She ends the call, and I spin to wrap my arms around Wyatt, suddenly exhausted and relieved at once.

“Hey, you’re okay, sweetheart.”

“I know, I just feel so bad that it happened when I was here. They’re on their way.”

“Good. Now, look at me.”

I do as he asks, and there’s so much intensity looking down at me, I don’t know what to say.

“That scared the life out of me.” His voice is gruff. “Amelia, I’m so in love with you, I can’t see straight. If I’d lost you tonight, I don’t know what I would have done. The thought of it is a punch in the gut.”

“I’m okay,” I assure him and cup his face in my hands. “I’m right here, and I’m safe.”

“I saw those flames over the house, and I swear, I’ve never been so terrified. I couldn’t get to you fast enough, and then you weren’t answering the door.”

“I took a sleeping pill,” I admit and bite my lip. “I knew I wouldn’t sleep well because I was upset about our argument, so I took something. I didn’t hear anything until you broke the window.”

“If I hadn’t seen it, it could have spread to the house,” he says, his eyes closing in anguish. “I almost didn’t come downstairs, Amelia. Jesus.”

“But you did, and I’m fine, and the fire is out. It’s out, Wyatt.” I rub my thumbs over his cheeks. “Thank you for coming after me.”

He jerks me against him, holding me closely and rocking us back and forth as organized chaos continues across the street. They’re yelling orders, running about. But all I can concentrate on is this amazing man who’s holding me as if I’m the most precious thing in his life.

He loves me.

I’m about to start talking about today and tell him that I love him, too, when Nat and Luke pull into Wyatt’s driveway.

“Hey, guys,” I say and suddenly find myself engulfed in a massive Nat hug.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

“Mmph fnnn.”

She pulls back. “What?”

“I’m fine. But your studio isn’t.” I look around for the fireman who spoke with us earlier and point at him. “That’s the guy in charge.”

“I’m going to go have a talk with him,” Luke says. His hair is standing on end, and he looks tired.

And hot. Luke always looks hot.

Because he’s Luke Williams.

“I’ll come with you.” Nat squeezes my hand and then follows Luke to speak with the fireman. A few minutes later, they return. “He says that the main house is safe, but he’d like for us to stay out of it for tonight. But the studio is a loss.”

“Oh, Nat, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “I can replace it all, Lia. But we can’t replace you, so I’m relieved that you’re okay.”

“Wyatt saw the flames,” I inform them and fill them in on how he broke the window to get to me.

Speaking of hot.

“I’ll replace the window,” Wyatt says, but Luke shakes his head.

“No, you won’t. I would have done the same. Your leg is bleeding.”

We all look down, and sure enough, he’s cut and bleeding down into his shoe.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Wyatt says with a shrug. “Adrenaline.”

“We have to get you stitched up,” I reply, only to have him chuckle.

“I don’t need stitches.”

“Well, now that we know what’s going on, we’re going to head home and come back in the morning,” Natalie says and hugs me again. Luke does the same, and I pat his back awkwardly, the way I always do when Luke hugs me.

Because he intimidates the hell out of me.

He gives me a smile, shakes Wyatt’s hand, and they’re off.

“Let’s go in now,” Wyatt says, taking my hand in his and pressing his lips to my knuckles. His eyes have calmed down, and he’s gazing at me with love-filled hazel orbs.

The man might have hung the moon as far as I’m concerned.

“First stop is wherever you keep your first-aid kit, Captain America,” I say as we walk inside.

“Captain America?”

“You’re clearly an action movie star,” I reply and smile when he smirks. “You legit broke a huge window and jumped through it, with your big muscles.”

“It was pure adrenaline and needing to get to you,” he says.

“Action movie star,” I repeat with a nod. “Now, let this damsel in distress clean you up.”

“You’re not a damsel, but I’ll let you clean me up.” He leads me into the guest bedroom on the first floor, pulls a little box out of the lower cabinet, and passes it to me. “Here you go.”

“This is all you have?” I stare at the little box in disbelief. “I’ll be lucky to get a Band-Aid out of this.”

“We’re not doing major surgery here,” he reminds me. “It’s already done bleeding; we just have to clean it up.”

“Okay.” I start the water to heat it up, then rummage around for a washcloth. “Sit on the tub.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He does as I ask, and pulls his shoes off, then props his foot on the vanity and watches as I get my tools lined up. “Jace would be proud of your professionalism.”

I swallow and wet the washcloth, then start at his ankle, cleaning the blood off. “Speaking of Jace,” I murmur, not looking him in the eyes. Not yet. “Let’s multi-task, shall we?”

“If you like.”

“So, now that we’ve both had time to take a step back and let the frustration cool off, I have a couple of things to say.”

“Shoot,” he says, then hisses through his teeth when I wipe off the cut on his calf.

“Sorry.” I wrinkle my nose. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the ER?”

“I’m not going to the ER for a cut on my leg,” he replies, his voice as dry as sand. “You’re doing great.”

“Okay. Anyway. I want to apologize again because the thought of hurting your feelings, ever, makes my stomach sick. I would never do that on purpose.”

He takes my hand in his, and I look into his eyes.

“I know, Amelia. You don’t need to apologize, because you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I still feel bad,” I reply, blinking away tears. “But, you need to know that we didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not attracted to Jace romantically. He’s your brother, and I think he’s a nice guy, and maybe we’ll be friends. That’s it.”