"SLOAN!!!"

I awaken immediately, unsure if I dreamt my name being screamed or not. I'm still on the sofa with James, his warm body pressed into mine. He's awake too and I can only   assume my sudden movement has aroused him.

"SLOAN!!!"

Shit!

I spring from the sofa and grab the first item of clothing I can see. I quickly shove James' shirt on and go in search of Lara, hating how distressed she sounds.

"Hey," I say, entering my bedroom. "I'm here, what's wrong?"

I switch on the lamp and find her in bed, withering in pain.

"It hurts, Sloan. Really bad."

Tears soak her cheeks as sweat runs down her forehead. I crouch next to her, helpless to the pain she's experiencing.

"I'll get your meds."

"I've been drinking!" she informs, distressed.

I check the clock on my nightstand. "That was hours ago. You'll be fine to take them now."

I rummage around in her washbag and retrieve the packet of pills. James emerges by the doorway, concerned.

"Everything alright?"

Lara turns to him. "You've killed me with all that dancing."

Her statement is meant as a joke but the discomfort in her tone prevents it from coming across that way.

"I'm sorry," he replies, coming to her aid by kneeling on the carpet next to where I am. "Try elevating your legs."

I look at him, stunned.

"Sloan told me a few weeks ago about your arthritis," he explains, eyes on Lara still. "I did a little research."

This man never ceases to amaze me. His kindness and compassion have no limits and I love that about him.

Wait? What?

Love.

"Can you get me a cushion, please?" she asks.

Her voice shakes as she cries.

Love.

"Sure."

Do I fucking love him?

"Sloan?"

Lara looks to the packet of painkillers in my hand, wondering why I've yet to dish them out.

"Sorry," I say, handing them over. "Can you stay with her while I make a hot water bottle?"

Heat helps relieve the pain and I need a moment alone to process my thoughts.

"Of course," he replies, smiling.

He's managed to throw on his jeans but—thanks to me stealing his shirt—remains topless. Lara doesn't seem to notice, and I'm certainly not about to make comment on it. My priority right now is Lara and getting her pain levels down.

"Thanks."

I head towards our kitchen and fill up the hot water bottle I keep under the sink. Jasmine and Nicole seem to have slept through the screaming and I'm glad. Nicole would no doubt notice I'm wearing James' shirt and question it. I hate lying to her and the more people who find out, the more I feel like I'm keeping something from her. Part of me wants to tell her, but I don't know how I'd go about suggesting that to James. Our relationship was supposed to be casual. If I bring up wanting to tell Nicole, I'm practically declaring my love for him. And I'm not ready for that. I doubt he's ready for that...

Fuck!

I silence my raging thoughts by returning to my bedroom and almost die at the scene before me. Wearing my pink, fluffy dressing gown, James it sat on my bed with a weeping Lara cocooned into him, reading to her. It's something we used to do as kids. Whenever she had a bad night, Lara would ask me to read to her while we waited for her painkillers to kick in. Tonight—it seems—James has been given that job role.

Where does it hurt most?" I ask, climbing into bed behind her.

James pauses his reading to allow Lara a moment.

"My Legs."

I place the hot water bottle between her legs and caress her hair, gesturing for James to continue. He reads from my copy of Little Women and after ten minutes, stops.

"She's asleep."

I check on her by gently moving her hair and relax a little, hearing her soft snores. I carefully come to a sitting position by placing my back against the headboard. There, I bury my head in my hands and without warning, burst into tears. This is a normal occurrence. I always wait until Lara has gone to sleep before I allow my emotions to come out. I'd never let her see me this upset.

"Come here," soothes James, encouraging my body to his by gently coming to my aid.

He tugs on my hands and wraps me up in a huge hug that feels much like a comfort blanket. I fall into him with little to no effort, bodies melting. His hands slowly caress my hair and back, as his lips make progress on inflicting forehead kisses. I appreciate him not shushing me or telling me everything will be alright. For the first time ever, I feel as though I'm being comforted in the right way. James isn't trying to fix what's happening. He's simply letting me know that he's here for me.

"I hate seeing her like this," I whisper, a little hysterical still.

"I know, darling."

"I wish I could trade places with her."

He slowly wipes under my eyes, adamant on absorbing some of my pain.

"The only thing you can do is be there to pick up all the pieces." He's offering me the very advice I gave him regarding Nic a few weeks ago. "But I'll help. I'll pick them up with you. I promise."

He lands a gentle kiss on my lips and continues to caress my cheeks.

"Thank you."

He smiles, wiping my tears away using the sleeve of my dressing gown.

"You look ridiculous, by the way," I state, smiling a little, despite the fact I'm still crying.

"I had limited options when you sole my shirt," he defends, resting his forehead against mine.

I can tell he doesn't like seeing me cry, but he doesn't vocalise it. He wouldn't dare. James never robs people of their emotions. Good or bad.

"Whenever I got upset as a kid, my dad would always let me build a fort," I inform, feeling particularly nostalgic. "We'd camp out in it."

"Did it happen a lot?" he asks, gesturing towards Lara. "You getting upset?"

I nod.

"That must've been difficult."

"It's nothing in comparison to what she has to deal with," I insist, looking at my baby sister who is—quite frankly—nothing short of a fucking hero. "She's the strongest person I know."

"She must get that from you," he whispers, gazing deep into my eyes.

I shrug. "I don't feel very strong."

"Are you kidding?" he asks. "You singlehandedly called out your arsehole professor on your first day!"

I chuckle.

"That took guts. I hear he's a total ball buster."

"He can be a dick," I admit. "But he's a good kisser, so it's not all bad."

He grins.

The last of my tears dry up and I hug him again, not quite ready to say goodbye to his delicate touches.

"Thank you for staying with her," I say, squeezing his entire body.

"You do the same for me," he replies, squeezing back.

He's talking about Nicole.

"We're a team, Sloan. We'll take care of each other."

"It doesn't scare you?" I ask, thinking back to our earlier conversation.

It's no secret James has his commitment issues.

"No, it doesn't."

He's just a surprised as I am.

"I like being one half of a team with you," he admits, cheeky grin in tow.

I bump my nose with his, needing him to know I feel the same way.

"Why don't you lie down?" he suggests. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

I follow his instructions, exhausted from this evening theatrics. He hugs me from behind and plays with my hair, relaxing me in no time. My head hurts from all the crying, but I eventually manage to drift off with the feel of James' magnificent body wrapped around mine. It's safe. It's comfortable. It's everything I've ever wanted and more.

****

I wake up feeling a little stiff, having slept at an awkward angle. James is no longer here, and I immediately miss his presence. Lara's gentle snores—however—act as a relief and I'm rest assured that she's getting enough sleep to see her through the day. She'll be in quite a bit of agony when she wakes up. She always is after a heavy night. I was planning on taking the girls shopping, but I think a pyjama day in front of the TV is exactly what we need. Right after Lara has a steaming hot bath to help with her muscles and joints.

I force myself up and head towards the kitchen, having swapped James' shirt for actual pyjamas. I miss being surrounded by his smell but figured it would be difficult to explain why I was wearing it should Nicole notice.

"Morning." My voice sounds croaky.

James greets me with the biggest smile, still fashioning my fluffy dressing gown like it's normal to him.

I silently giggle.

"Hey, beautiful."

He opens his arms for me, and I go to him, no questions asked. His chest is exposed a little and I press my lips to his warm skin, loving how it instantly brings me peace. I nuzzle myself further into his embrace, needing this exchange more than I thought.

"How are you?"

I nod. "Fine."

"How are you really?"

"Shit," I admit, pulling back to find him gazing down at me.

Lara walks in, slow in her movements. Her face indicates how much pain she is in and without warning, she worms her way into our hug, seeking comfort from James and I.

"You look fucking ridiculous, James," she mumbles, face pressed into my arm.

I can't help but laugh.

"Do you want me to run you a bath?" I ask, pulling back.

Seeing James hug my sister while she's in pain warms my heart.

"I'll do it," he offers, giving Lara one last gentle squeeze.

I watch him head towards our bathroom with no real clue what he's doing. James strikes me as the type who doesn't know the difference between shampoo and bubble bath. I hope for Lara's sake he doesn't mix the two up.

"Is it bad?" I ask.

She immediately cries. "Yes."

I pull her to me, hoping to ease some of the pain.

"Doctor Ling thinks I might need a wheelchair soon."

I pull back, shocked to be hearing this for the first time. "WHAT? Mum and Dad never said..."

"Mum and Dad don't know," she replies. "No one does."

My instinct is to scold her, but I refrain.

"I don't want anyone to know, Sloan."

"Why not?"

Her tears increase. "Because then it becomes real."

I guide her towards the kitchen table, encouraging her to take a seat.

"How long have you known?"

"A few weeks."

I hate the thought of her suffering in silence for this long.

"And what did the doctor say exactly?" I ask.

"Just that it might be time to consider having a wheelchair for the bad days."

I nod. "Not permanently, then?"

"For now."

I don't try to sugar-coat it. Instead, I merely point out the truths.

"I suppose that'll make it easier to get out on the tough days. But if you don't want to become reliant on it, you'll have to put in the extra work. Have you been doing your stretches?

"Yeah."

Her tears have stopped, but she still looks sad beyond belief.

"I'll help you manage this, Lara," I promise. "I always have, and I always will."

She lunges for me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

"I'm scared."

"Why?"

"No one is going to want me."

I pull back, stunned.

"WHAT?"

"What teenager do you know wants to date a girl in a wheelchair?"

Sometimes, with Lara being as mature as she is, I forget she's a teenager. But she's still finding herself. She's still figuring things out, and her problems—as trivial as they may seem to some—are very real to her.

"Plenty," I assure.

"Name one. I bet you can't," she challenges. "In fact, I bet there's not even a fictional character from your books who would."

My heart sinks to my stomach, weighing heavy on my conscience. 

"I'll write one!" I suddenly declare. "In fact, I'll write you a whole damn series."

She laughs. "Sloan—"

"No, really!" I insist. "You're right. There isn't enough representation out there."

She quirks a brow.

"I'll set it in a fantasy world. Two peasant sisters on a quest."

"Like us?"

"Exactly like us!" I stress. "And together, they must lead the revolution."

"Can they be amazing sword fighters?"

I mull this over for a few seconds. "Fuck it! Let's make them pirates."

Lara lights up at the thought.

"No one messes with them."

"Can your character start a secret relationship with her mentor?" she asks, smirking.

I don't even care that she said that. The fact she's up to teasing me must mean she's feeling better.

"Only if your character is badass!"

She sticks out her hand, laughing. "Deal."

She thinks I'm joking, but little does she know this is the most excited I've been about starting a project ever. The idea lights me up from the inside, out. I've never known inspiration like it. James himself told me the best writers draw inspiration from their own experiences. If I'm to write what I know, then I sure as hell want Lara to be a part of the process. Not only is she my sister, but she's also my best friend. My partner in crime. And I want her to know that she's capable of achieving anything in this world, despite what difficulties lay ahead.

Her illness does not define her.

And it's sure as hell won't stop her!

✨✨✨✨

Hello, lovely!💕

My heart breaks for Lara in this chapter, but she's the strongest character I've ever written and I love her for that.

Representation is so important in books and I'm determined to portray her struggles and strength accurately. However, If the themes in this chapter have affected you in any way, please reach out to someone you can trust.

Next chapter is around the halfway mark in this book, and it's about to take a TURN!

Y'all aren't ready.

Or are you? 😈

Lots of love,
Rebecca xo