Chapter 50

The look of stunned confusion on Waylon's face made Alexia break into laughter, all her earlier frustration melting away. "I'll let you off easy since you're sick," she said, teasing him lightly.

Before he could offer a reply, she tucked the blanket around him, spun on her heel, and exited the room,closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Waylon remained motionless for a few moments,his fingers drifting absently over the cooling patch on his forehead while a quiet sigh slipped out.

Illness truly had a way of making a person reckless.Odd how a fever could loosen the tongue or spark foolish bravery.

The medicine worked quickly, and the exhaustion washed over him in heavy waves, sweeping him toward sleep before he could resist.

A pang of regret tugged at him just before he slipped under.

Maybe letting her come here had been a mistake.Maybe inviting Alexia back into his life was a door that should have stayed closed

Seven years had passed, but she was unchanged-straightforward, bold, never afraid to show exactly what she felt.

He, on the other hand, was tangled up in knots he couldn't begin to unravel.

The afternoon passed by unnoticed. Waylon slept until darkness filled the house.

By the time he finally woke, the fever had broken and his thoughts had cleared.

Waylon peeled the patch off his forehead,headed downstairs, and discovered Alexia still there.

Curled on the sofa, she hugged a pillow, fast asleep and peaceful.

Waylon crossed the room quietly, stopping at her side.Moonlight spilled through the window, draping her shoulders in soft silver, as if a gentle veil had settled around her.

No effort was made to wake her. He simply stood there, holding himself in that careful space-close enough to watch over her, but not quite close enough to reach out.

Eventually, Alexia stirred awake. She yawned, rubbing at the sleep gathered in her eyes before murmuring "You're awake, huh? Hold on, let me check your temperature."

She fumbled for the thermometer gun, still blinking away the last traces of sleep, and aimed it at his forehead.

After the beep, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally,your fever's gone."

Only a breath separated them now. Waylon caught the subtle, comforting scent that lingered in her hair.

His gaze grew gentle, drawn to the way relief softened her features.

Waylon dipped his head, edging a little nearer.The warmth of his breath swept across her cheek, and she went rigid. Her eyes rounded in surprise. "What's going on?"

Waylon kept his silence. His steady, searching eyes never wavered.

It made perfect sense to him that she had chosen to stay.

Responsibility and kindness came naturally to her. No matter who needed her, she would always step in to help,especially if illness was involved. That sense of fairness, her ability to extend the same warmth to anyone, sometimes made his chest ache.

He resented that generosity. It never belonged to him alone.

For a heartbeat, his face shadowed with frustration,but the mood vanished as quickly as it came. "About that favor you mentioned... is it still on the table?"

Without pausing, Alexia answered, "Yes. I meant it.Just tell me what you need."

For a brief moment, he pressed his lips together before saying,"Seven days of glazed ribs."

She faltered, blinking in confusion. "Come again?"

He didn't hesitate as he explained, "Make glazed ribs for me for an entire week."

With narrowed eyes, Alexia looked at him,suspicion plain in her voice. "You really like them that much?Are you sure you won't get tired of eating the same thing?"

"Never. And you have to join me at the table, every day."

While waiting for her answer, he watched her face for any hint of refusal.

She matched his gaze. "Waylon, I have to point something out... You just landed back in town, and suddenly you need company for meals? That's new for you."

The corners of his mouth turned up with a sly smile "Why not? Is there some unwritten rule about that?"

"Not quite. But I don't eat with just anyone. If youstill insist we're not friends, then I guess glazed ribs are off the menu. Admit we're friends first. Otherwise, no deal." Clearly, she was still holding on to his earlier claim about not wanting her friendship.

With arms folded tightly across his chest,he offered only a small shake of his head. "Are there strings attached to paying back a favor now?"

Pinkness bloomed on Alexia's cheeks, leaving her looking uncertain.

"Alexia, I'm not the type to haggle."

Disappointment flickered through her, but pressing her case would only be a waste of breath.

People learned quickly that Waylon never bent once he'd drawn his line in the sand. Compromise simply was not in his nature.

"Alright," Alexia muttered, waving him off as she pivoted away. Yet she barely managed a step before his grip found her hand, and he pulled her back to the couch without a word.

She landed awkwardly, feeling the pressure of his knee between hers and his arm resting solidly behind her.She was going nowhere. He held all the cards.

Deliberate and slow, Waylon let his gaze drift over her features, pausing when his eyes settled on her lips.

Even with him so close, Alexia refused to let herself rattle. After the first flash of surprise,she gathered herself and met his stare with cool resolve. "Are you making fun of me again?"