Page 32 of Wild

"Yeah," she whispers, drawing out the word.

Mia's voice is a low, breathy sound as Erin pulls upward, puts a hand on her back, and brings her with her until she's sitting with her back resting against Erin's chest. Nell holds out an open water bottle and Erin brings it to the singer's lips, which she can barely keep open, and some of the water spills down her chin.

"It's okay if it spills—just drink what you can."

Mia takes another sip and blinks, curling a fist around the side pocket of Erin's pants, and it takes her a few seconds torealize that her other hand is still resting on her own stomach, covered by Erin's.

"Noah, figure out a way to get her out of here—she needs to rest," Erin says.

"Out back there's the van that brought us here; I can have them pull it up to the door if she can walk," he offers.

"Do it—we'll go once she's more stable."

"Don't we need to go to the hospital?" Nell asks.

"There's no magic medicine for this," Erin answers. "Going there will only make her more anxious—better to go to the hotel."

"Okay, I'll help Noah—I'll make sure the hallway is clear so we can get her out. Back in a minute."

Nell disappears and they're left alone, with only one of Mia's bodyguards nearby, standing close to the door.

"How are you doing?" Erin whispers, touching her forehead first and then the top of her lip to check for sweat.

"I don't think I can walk right now," Mia says, curling into herself, frightened.

"I know, don't worry about that. Do you want more water?"

Mia shakes her head and Erin brushes the damp hair from her forehead. Those blue eyes fix on hers, and for a moment Erin can see only the scared girl who lives beneath the bravado and boldness with which Mia moves through the world.

"Don't leave me alone," she murmurs, gripping her pants tightly.

Erin closes her hand more firmly over Mia's and wraps her other arm around her shoulders.

"Never, honey," she answers softly against her ear.

Mia doesn't pass out, but her eyes drift shut and she settles into a kind of half-sleep, letting out a sigh of relief as she listens to the slow, steady beat of Erin's heart.

Chapter 12

An hour later, Erin is in Mia's suite, standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame while she watches her sleep. They got back barely fifteen minutes ago from the rehearsal studio. Mia's bodyguard had lifted her like she weighed nothing once Erin decided it was safe to move her, and they'd carried her out to the van Noah had made sure was waiting at the back entrance.

The arrival at the hotel had gone much the same way; Jude had arranged enough security to make sure no one could get a photo of the singer in such a weakened state. They'd brought her in through a side door that led to the kitchens, and once they'd laid her on the bed, Erin—with Nell's help—had taken off her boots and her clothes and pulled the blanket over her. Nell had slipped out as soon as she wasn't needed anymore, and Erin could leave too, because Mia is stable and has just fallen asleep, but she'd rather wait a little and make sure nothing wakes her.

With her expression relaxed, the singer looks harmless—nothing like the sharp-tongued girl who seems ready to devour the world every time she takes a step. Erin thinks about the moment she watched Mia go pale and feels a strange flare in her chest that makes her uncomfortable, because she'd felt a fear she didn't recognize when she thought she might not reach her in time, and a warmth she can't explain when Mia had looked at her, terrified, and begged her not to leave her alone.

Her phone vibrates and she pulls it out of her pocket to see her sister's name on the screen.

Brooke Dooley

Why aren't you picking up?

She locks the screen and puts it away. Brooke called when they were on their way to the hotel and she couldn't answer because she needed to focus on Mia, but she's not in any rush to call back either. Since she left New York, she's tried to reach her sister a couple of times, and not only has Brooke not returned her calls, she hasn't even replied to the message Erin sent a few days ago asking if she was okay.

Mia sighed and the breath caught slightly on the way out, and the doctor straightens and takes a step toward the bed, then stops when she realizes it was just a settling sigh, the kind that comes from a body unwinding after several minutes of tension. She leaves a glass of water on the nightstand and writes her a note on a page she tears from the small notebook she always carries in her pocket, asking her to let her know as soon as she wakes up.

She finally leaves the suite and, pulling the door closed behind her, stands there with her back against the wood, not quite sure what to do. For a moment, loneliness moves through her and knocks the air out of her lungs. She thinks about calling Barry to tell him what happened and share what she felt with someone, but she realizes there's no one she could actually explain it to, because no one would understand the panic she'd felt—it wasn't just about not being sure she could prevent Mia's blackout: what had scared her most was the thought of not being enough for her, of not being enough to make Mia feel safe. Erin doesn't understand anything that's happening to her with this girl. She doesn't know why, when she closes her eyes, she sees Mia's blue ones, or why something tugs in her stomach when Mia turns that crooked smile on her. What she does know isthat she can't let any of it affect her; she can't get attached to Mia Wilder or let herself be seduced by her. She can't afford that temptation, because she and Mia belong to two very different worlds, and Erin only has a place in the singer's world for as long as the Wild tour lasts—after that, she'll go back to New York and Mia will go wherever she goes to rest and recover while she keeps pulling strangers into her bed.

"Afraid she'll make a run for it?"