Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 115

Dylan stayed quiet, letting her frantically clean. Once she was sure everything was spotless and realized he wasn't upset, she breathed a sigh of relief. She gently released his hand, speaking softly, "Mr. Dylan, are you feeling better now?"

He glanced down at his wrist, still warm from her touch. Her fingers were long and delicate, like vines, and the warmth seemed to seep into his skin. Clara asked again, "Mr. Dylan, do you feel better after taking the medicine?"

He finally looked up and gave a slight nod, acknowledging her concern, while lightly shaking the wrist she had held. Clara quickly let go, and promptly apologized, "I'm sorry, I was just too worried. I'm glad you're okay."

Silence filled the back seat. Clara couldn't quite tell if he was upset. She sat up straight and fastened her seatbelt. Dylan looked out the window, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips before fading away.

The car pulled up in Palm Bay, and Jackson jumped out, opening the back door. He intended to help Dylan out but found him asleep, his head resting on Clara's shoulder. Jackson had driven with unusual caution, taking a full forty minutes to get there.

Clara had also dozed off, leaning against the window instead of Dylan. Dylan was sound asleep. His head was nestled on her shoulder.

Jackson quickly gestured for silence. His tone was softer now; he

longer. He's been dealing

he hadn't rested properly in days. Clara immediately froze, catching glimpses of his hair and long eyelashes

prompting Jackson's whispered warning, "If you wake him, I'll make sure you

wasn't joking. She quickly closed her

know how much

know

lulled her back to sleep. When she awoke, the sound of pages turning reached her ears. She was no longer in the car but inside Palm

Clara jolted awake, looking around, only to be met with Jackson teasing, "Are you a sloth? You slept for hours!" She

seemed more refreshed. "Mr. Dylan,