Page 52

I bite my lip.Bad idea, a voice in the back of my mind whispers.
“Okay,” I hear myself say again. Caden turns away so I can’t see his expression.
“I’ll just go tell Noah we’re leaving,” he says, standing and striding off to the shoreline.
I’m zipping up my shorts when Charlotte’s voice carries across the water. “You okay?” she calls to me.
I give her a thumbs up and a big smile and a wave. Her eyes narrow but then Caden says something to her, and she gives a reluctant nod. He comes back and puts his shirt on, thank god.
He jerks his head in the direction of the parking lot and we walk to the Camaro.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CADEN
I hold open the car door for Isla.
She really looks pale, her lips only carrying the faintest blush, her skin clammy. I want to get her out of the sun as quickly as possible.
“Whose car is this?” she asks.
“Alistair’s,” I say.
“Of course,” she huffs. She wobbles as she goes to sit and my fingers ache to help her. The seat is quite low and she lets out an “oof” as she lands on it.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she growls. She has all the fury of an enraged kitten and I try not to think about how adorable she is as I get in the driver’s side.
I keep the windows down as we make our way back to Magnolia Bay. I hope the air cools her a bit. I sense her relax about halfway to her apartment, her face turning toward the open window, her eyes drifting closed. We need to get some Tylenol and water into her.
When I pull up to Magnolia’s Petals and park, she gets out of the Camaro and another dizzy spell seems to take her. She holds onto the door for support.
“Hey there,” I say, hurrying around to catch her arm. My hands feel too rough for her soft skin. “Do you need help getting upstairs?”
The angry kitten face is back. Isla is always the one doing the helping—she’s not used to being the one who needs help. “I can walk,” she says. I release her and as she turns, she wobbles again.
“Okay, up you go,” I say, sweeping her into my arms.
“Caden, stop it,” she says, pushing against my chest but the attempt is so feeble, I ignore it.
“I’m not about to let you faint walking up the stairs,” I say.
“I’m not going to faint,” Isla mumbles, but her eyelashes flutter.
“Isla, please.” Her name coats my mouth like honey, a bitter sweetness. “Let me help you.”
Isla tries to protest and instead lets out a wide yawn.
“Fine, you can carry me,” she says, and I chuckle.
I get her up the stairs to her apartment and as soon as we cross the threshold, I place her gently on her feet.
“Oh,” Isla gasps, clutching her stomach. “I think I’m gonna…” But before she finishes the sentence, she races into the bathroom. I hear her retching.
“Isla,” I say, hurrying over to stand by the doorway.
“Go away, Caden.” Another wave of retching.