It feels good.
Toogood.
Something so small shouldn’t shake me this much. It’s not like I’ve never held a woman’s hand before. In fact, I held Hazel’s hands only hours before, when I first found her at the police station.
But this feels different. I can’t explain why. It just does.
I know I should let her go. Stop enjoying the sensation of her soft skin against mine.
But I don’t want to.
Instead, I hang on to her hand while I open the fridge. Hazel leans closer to peer inside, her shoulder bumping mine and her hair brushing my chin. She smells of roses and vanilla, seductive yet sweet, and I’m seized by the urge to not just hold her hand, but pull her into my arms and keep her there as long as she’ll let me.
I wouldn’t, of course.
“Well,” I say, forcing my attention back to thefridge, “it looks like Winter stocked it with the basics. Milk, creamer, condiments, eggs, cheese… but if you make a list, I can pick everything you need up at the store tomorrow.”
Hazel looks at me in confusion. “How are there fresh eggs and milk if she didn’t know I was coming until a couple of hours ago?”
I don’t want to tell Hazel that Winter probably used her own supplies and give her something else to apologize about. Instead, I just reply vaguely, “Oh, I’m sure she had extra.”
Hazel gives me a doubtful look but doesn’t call me on it. “Well, that was really nice of her. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to go to the store. After tonight, and yesterday…”
I shut the refrigerator door and lead her back towards the living room. Once we reach the couch, I gesture for her to sit, then take a seat beside her. “I don’t mind. Really.”
“But—”
“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to. Okay? Going to the police station, bringing you here, picking up food tomorrow… those are all things I’mchoosingto do. So stop telling me I don’t have to. I know. I want to.”
Hazel blinks at me. Moisture shines in her eyes.
Shit.
Did I make her cry?
Shit.
“Haze, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She swallows hard. Blinks again. “You didn’t. I’m just… I think I’m just tired, is all. Overwhelmed.”
The knot in my chest releases. “Of course you’re tired. If you don’t want to come up with a list tonight, that’s okay. You can let me know tomorrow.”
“I don’t have my phone.” She frowns. “I didn’t grab it. It’s still at my house.”
“It’s okay. Someone can bring you over tomorrow to pack. It might not be me, since I have to go into the office for a while, but one of the other guys can.”
Hazel looks at me for a second before frowning again. “Oh, Alec. I’m so sorry. It’s late. I’m sure you want to go home.” She casts her gaze around the living room. “I’m fine now. I’ll just explore the cabin, maybe watch some TV…”
And not sleep.
That’s the unspoken part of it.
Not when she’s haunted by so many traumatic memories. Not when she’s reminded of the violence of the last two days every time she closes her eyes.
I know that’s what’ll happen, because I’ve had enough of those nights myself.
And shit. I don’t want to leave her like that. Sitting alone on the couch, scared, lonely, hurting…
