Fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Lila
I was cold and sore when we finally stopped. It was late afternoon and the warmth the sun had provided was now gone. Jesse’s jacket had done its job, but my legs and hands were like blocks of ice.
The old house we were parked outside had been converted into a care nursing home fifteen years ago.
Jesse’s expression was grim, resigned.
“Your mom’s here?” I asked him gently. Whatever was going on, it clearly hurt him.
“Yeah.” He took my hand and led me inside. There was a couch against the wall in the reception area and he motioned me toward it. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Will you wait for me here?”
A million questions flew around my head, but I kept them to myself. There was no missing the stress lining his handsome face. I nodded and he strode down one of the long hallways.
An hour later, and Jesse still wasn’t back.
A woman headed my way, a small smile on her face. “Are you here to see someone, honey?”
“I’m with a friend, Jesse Thomas.”
Her phone beeped and she frowned, looking down at it. “I was just going to take him this, but I have to rush off.” She handed me a bottle of water. “Could you take this to him? He’ll need it.”
“Um…I’m not sure…I don’t know…”
“End of the hall, make a right, then all the way to the end. It’s the room on the left.” Then she hustled off in the opposite direction.
I stood there, not sure what the heck to do. I frowned at the bottle in my hands, then glanced down the hall in front of me. Shoot. I didn’t want to intrude, but if the woman came back and I was still here with the water she’d think I was a jerk. With nothing else to do, I made my way down the hall.
I made the right and paused when then soft strains of a guitar, a low voice, deep and smooth as velvet, reached me, singing “You’ll Think Of Me” by Keith Urban. My brain tried to reason away what I was hearing, but there was no mistaking who it was. I carried on, my heart racing faster the closer I got to the room. The door was open and I peeked around the corner.
My heart lodged in my throat.
Jesse sat with his back to me, an acoustic guitar on his lap. He was playing and singing. A woman who had to be his mom lay on her side in a bed, her eyes open, staring up at him, her gaze hollow, heartbreaking.
I just stood there, not wanting to disturb and unable to tear my eyes away.
I stayed while he finished the song and started another, this time “Wherever You Will Go” by The Calling. His voice was strong and smooth with a bit of a rasp to it that sent shivers down my spine.
He kept on playing. “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down was next.
All the songs were older, not music I thought Jesse would’ve been in to, but he played them beautifully.
I was intruding. I shouldn’t be here, but I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t make myself walk away.
When he played the opening to “She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5 I bit my lip. I loved that song.
Jesse’s mom’s eyes closed, and you could tell by her breathing that she’d fallen asleep. Jesse kept playing until the song was finished, then he carefully leaned the guitar against her bedside table, careful not to bump the empty dinner plate on top, lifted the covers up around her neck, and brushed her hair back. He kissed her forehead, then grabbed the guitar again and stood.
He turned and his eyes collided with mine. For a split second he froze, and then moved silently toward me, out to the hall, and shut the door behind him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling awful. “A nurse told me to bring you this.” I held up the water bottle. “But then I got here and I didn’t want to intrude…and I couldn’t seem to walk away.” I chewed on my lip. “I’m so sorry, Jesse. I shouldn’t have watched you with your mother…I shouldn’t have…”
He cupped my chin and tilted my head back. “It’s okay, Lila.” His voice was raspier than usual, and I handed him the drink. He cracked it open and drank half the bottle in one go, then smiled down at me. It didn’t reach his eyes, not like his smiles usually did. “My mom, she’s been in and out of places like this for as long as I can remember. She went through a tough time, never really recovered. Sometimes it gets really bad and she comes here. She stops communicating, doesn’t eat, barely sleeps. I come and play some of her favorite songs; it’s the only thing that seems to work.”
There was nothing I could say to make it better for him. I didn’t want to spout clichéd crap, so I said what I was thinking. “You’re lovely, you know that?”
“Lila,” he said roughly.
“You also have an incredible voice. I was only five when ‘She Will Be Loved’ came out, but I loved it because Kate played it over and over. She’d been head over heels in love with Adam Levine, and I copied everything she did. You were better, and a whole lot sexier. I’m halfway to fan-girling all over right now.” I was only half teasing. I wanted that sad look out of his eyes. I also wanted to kiss the hell out of him.
He blushed a little, something I’d never seen Jesse do, then leaned in and kissed the top of my head. “Come on.”
His big hand gripped the back of my neck as we walked down the hall, the hold possessive, like I was his and he wanted everyone to know it.
I glanced over at him. “What about your dad…does he…”
“They’re not together anymore. The old man got sick of dealing with her and left us…it’s the only good thing that fucker ever did.”
I wanted to question him more, but his expression was closed off.
We reached the desk and he handed the guitar to the woman behind it, the one who’d given me the water to deliver.
“How did it go? Did you get her to eat?”
“Yeah, some dessert as well.”
She gave him a warm smile, and he told her he’d be back soon, then led me out.
He helped me with my helmet.
“You’re a good son,” I said when his eyes met mine.
“Nah, Bambi, just doing what anyone else would do.” He looked uncomfortable.
“I’m not so sure about that. She’s lucky to have you.”
We climbed on the bike and headed for home. I hugged him extra tight all the way.
We finally pulled up in my small driveway and I climbed off. “You want to come in?” I asked when he walked me to my door.
“Love to. But I think I better head home.” His big body was rigid and his jaw was tight. I hated that I didn’t know what to do, that he needed something that I obviously couldn’t give him.
“Okay,” I said, not sure I hid my disappointment very well.
He curled a strong arm around me, holding me so tight it almost hurt as he kissed me good night. I held him back just as tight.
Finally, he let me go and walked back to his bike.
“Your jacket,” I called quickly, undoing the one he’d put back on me for the ride home.
“Keep it for next time,” he called back.
Then he was on his bike and heading off down the street.