Take Me On (Pushing the Limits #4)(124)

My name leaves her mouth in a relieved, airy rush, as if she’s glad to see me. As if she wants to see me. And those gorgeous blue eyes stare at me like I’m her man. My heart squeezes.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She bites her bottom lip while nodding.

Having no clue what to say, I scratch the back of my head. “I—”

And I don’t finish. Lila half stumbles, half runs into my body. The fact that she’s touching me, holding me, causes me to lose my balance. I quickly recover as her arms become steel bands around my waist.

I inhale, trying to figure out what to do. Ah, hell, she smells like her letters; like lavender. I press my cheek against her silky hair and ease one hand onto the small of her back while the other hugs her shoulders.

Lila falling into me is peaceful, like landing on a feather bed. She’s warm and soft, all curves and gentleness—alive, fitting perfectly into my body. Just as I imagined.

“It would be best if Miss McCormick isn’t alone tonight. Will you be staying with her, sir?” asks the police officer, but the way she tilts her head and smirks at her partner informs me she can guess my response.

“Yes,” Lila answers for me as she burrows her forehead into my chest. Her grip on me tightens. “I know him. He’ll stay.”

Everything stills. I have never heard sweeter words. She knows me and she wants me to stay. I’m not a stranger to her. Not some guy she barely identifies with. She knows me.

“Sir?” the officer prompts.

“Yeah,” I say. “I will.” I slide my hand along the curve of Lila’s spine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her nose moves against my chest as she nods. “Yes. Just freaked.” She pauses. “I’m sorry for sending you away.”

Lila peeks up at me and I give her a half smile. “I deserved it.”

For a split second, light shines in her eyes. “You sort of did.”

The police officer clears her throat and Lila steps away from me. My arms feel empty without her. It’s crazy. I’ve dated more than a few girls and have never had this reaction.

“Are you okay now, Miss McCormick?” the officer asks.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Thanks for coming.”

The police officers inch toward the door and I block their path. “Whoa. Wait. You’re leaving?”

“Lincoln...” Lila rubs her biceps. Her mouth scrunches to the right, calling my attention to her lips. “I...uh...was calling you...and I thought I saw someone...and I guess you answered right as I screamed...and I, ah...dropped my phone...then it turned off...and then the police came and said you called them and...yeah.”

And...yeah. Not buying it. “Blood. Curdling. Scream.”

Her eyes dart to the police, then away. “Well, I thought I saw something, but I was probably wrong.” Then she looks at me, her eyes pleading, begging for me to drop it.

The muscles in my neck tighten.

“We searched the property,” says the officer with a pitying smile at Lila. “And we didn’t find anyone. Miss McCormick knows she can call us if there’s an issue.”

They think it’s her imagination, yet I heard her terror. That type of scream can’t be created by a fear in your head. That’s death hovering in front of you wielding a bloody ax.

Lila thanks the officers and shows them out. With a click, she shuts the front door, and for the first time in my life I’m completely alone in a room with the girl I’ve fallen in love with. What the hell do I do now?

I should immediately tell her what happened with school. I should tell her my plan to fix things, how when I return home I’ll sign up for summer school. I should tell her that the thought of losing her paralyzes me. Instead, I follow my gut. “You saw somebody, didn’t you?”

Lila collapses against the door and her face drains of all color. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Her head dips forward. “I can’t prove it. The police think I’m crazy. And ninety percent of me thinks everything’s okay because if there was somebody outside they would have hurt me. But ten percent of me is pretty positive that someone is messing with me.”

I fold my arms over my chest, not liking the thought of anyone screwing with Lila. “What are you saying?”

She shrugs and smiles at the same time, making it clear she doesn’t believe the words. “Maybe I have a stalker.”

Maybe? Knowing what to do to help calm her nerves, I hold out my hand. “Start talking, because I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”





Lila

When Josh first died, my parents got close, but as time has worn on, they’ve grown apart. The worst moments are when my entire family is in the same room. With the people I should love the most surrounding me, I feel the most alone.

~ Lincoln

Lincoln assesses the orange Post-it note on the oven meant to remind me to turn it off as he stirs milk over the stove top. From the second he knotted my fingers with his in the living room and led me into the kitchen, I’ve found it impossible to tear my eyes away from him.

He grew—stunningly so. Taller. Thicker. His blue eyes are aged beyond his years, but when he smiles at me he becomes carefree and eighteen.

“That’s it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I respond. I downloaded everything, except he’s not humiliating me with condescending looks or a lecture about overactive imaginations. I spilled about the scratching on the windows last night, the sound of shoes against the pavement tonight, and the shadow walking toward me and the sound of his breath.