Page 44 of Tangled Desires

She turns to Isla, suspicious. “Did you text him?”

Isla shakes her head, the smirk growing. “Nope. Why would I?”

And then it hits me. Xav must’ve told Isla, who told him, and he, being the sneaky bastard he is, passed it on to me. I clear my throat, trying to play it cool.

“They’re my favourite. Went to the shops after work, saw them on special, figured I’d grab a few bags.” Imogen doesn’t waste any time. She tears the packet open, pops a couple into her mouth, and moans—loudly. That sound hits me in all the wrong ways, or maybe the right ones. Hell. I shift, trying to ignore the heat rushing straight to my dick. Then, without warning, shethrows her arms around me, pressing herself tight against my chest.

“Thank you!” I blink, stunned, but my hands move on instinct, resting on her lower back. The girls are watching, all confused except for Isla, who’s practically beaming. My eyes drop to Imogen’s denim shorts, and before I can stop myself, my hand slides lower, grabbing a handful of her ass. She shoves me away, her eyes narrowed, but not really pissed.

“Yeah, you can fuck off now.” I throw my hands up, laughing.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Liv crosses her arms, giving me that knowing smirk. “Neither could she, apparently.” Imogen flips her off, and I just grin, leaning back on my heels.

Whatever this is, I’m in deep now.

It’s about nine when I finally plop myself down onto my couch, when my phone rings, Isla’s name lighting up the screen. It’s not unusual for her to call, but it’s still a bit late for a chat.

“What’s up?” I answer, smiling, but that smile is gone in seconds.

“Harrison, it’s Imogen. She’s not feeling too good. She’s been having back pain and nausea for hours.” Isla’s voice is soft, but laced with concern. “I’d go over, but Callie’s feeding, and I’m stuck here.” I straighten up, the room suddenly feeling too small. My chest tightens, like I’ve been sucker-punched.

“What do you mean? Is she okay?” Why didn’t she call me? I should’ve been there earlier. Fuck, I should’ve been checking in all day. This is why she needs to be here with me. Fuck.

“As if she’s going to call you. She won’t say it, but I think she’s in more pain than she’s letting on.”

A flash of frustration hits me, hot and sharp. Why wouldn’t she call me? My heart races. What if it’s worse than she’s saying? She could be in agony, toughing it out like she always does. God, she’s too damn stubborn. If anything happens to her—I’m already on my feet, keys in hand, not even thinking about a jacket.

One thing’s clear: I’m not sitting around. She’s not handling this alone. Not now. Not ever.

I stand outside Imogen’s front door, the cold night air biting at my skin. I pull my phone out without a second thought and shoot her a quick text.

Me:You awake?

Imogen:Maybe.

I snort out a laugh, shaking my head. She’s such a pain.

Me:Okay, well, open the front door. I’m outside.

Imogen:Wtf? Why?

Me:Because I felt like company. Hurry up, Immy. It’s freezing out here.

There’s a long pause. Longer than I expect. I’m about to shoot off another text when I hear the door creak open. She’s standing there—arms crossed tight over her chest, scowl in place, eyes red like she’s been crying. Shit. Her face is pale, like she’s been hit by a bus.

“What are you really doing here?” she grumbles, staring at me like I’ve just ruined her night.

I take a good look at her—she’s stiff, like every move is painful. Her eyes are tired, like she hasn’t been sleeping, and damn it, I know what that means. I’ve got that gut feeling. She’s definitely not feeling well.

“I had a hunch,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual, though my heart’s already doing its thing. “Spider senses tingling… no, wait, dad senses tingling. You’re not okay.” A small smile flickers on her face, just for a second, before it vanishes like it never existed.

“I’m fine,” she snaps, shifting on her feet, but the way she’s holding herself tells a different story.

“Yeah, and I’m the king of England,” I shoot back. “Inside. Now.”

“What? No, you need—” she starts to argue, but I cut her off before she can finish.