Reagan’s above me, her face veiled in shadows. “Jude!” She slides her hands against my cheeks and cups my face. “Jude, are you okay?”
My heart’s pounding, and my body is covered in sweat. Tiny pools of teardrops are gathering on my cheeks where her hands scorch my skin. “Reagan,” I whisper, and I think maybe she’s the dream. I reach up and grab her arms roughly because I’m scared she’ll vanish before my eyes.
“I’m here.” She smiles down at me, moving her fingertips against my skin and wiping my tears away. “You’re safe,” she whispers.
Trying to clear my nightmare from my thoughts, I close my eyes and take a few deep, shaky breaths.
The bed dips as she scoots closer, but she stays leaning over my body. “What were you dreaming about?”
“I can’t,” I tell her. It’s impossible to explain what I’ve experienced unless it’s lived. No movie or book could ever prepare someone for the sounds, smells, and sights of war.
“Shh. It’s okay, Jude. You don’t have to tell me.”
I want to tell her, but I can’t burden her with my memories. My hands fall to her waist, and I tug her forward. “Don’t leave,” I whisper because my voice is too shaken to speak any louder.
She doesn’t fight me when I pull her across my body, letting our skin rub against each other. She curls into my side, tucked nicely into the curve of my arms, and peers up at me with her big, beautiful eyes. “I don’t know—”
“I can’t be alone,” I say, cutting her off before she can protest any further. “I’m sorry, Reagan.”
She snakes her hand across my chest and grips my side just under my rib cage. “For what?”
I nuzzle my lips against her forehead and relish in her scent and softness, holding her against me tightly. “For earlier.”
Her bottom lip trembles as she stares across my body toward the empty wall. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Hey.” My fingertips find her chin and force her to look up at me through the darkness. “It does. I don’t want to win an election by ruining you or your family, Reagan. If I win, I want it to be because I’m worthy.”
“Carl has other plans,” she mumbles, her fingernail raking down my side.
My gut twists. “He’s not my boss. He does what I tell him to. I promise you this—I’ll never let your name be dragged through the mud. Your secrets are safe with me.”
“What are we doing, Jude?” she asks on a sigh. My skin breaks out in goose bumps when her fingers trace the curve of my ribs to my chest, stealing my breath.
“I don’t know,” I admit softly against her forehead and stroke the line down her spine with my thumb. “I know we shouldn’t be here right now, I shouldn’t want you the way I do, but I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you.”
There’s a pull I can’t stop—my body and soul gravitating toward her without my control. She’s like the sun, shining warmth and comfort all around me, and I’m stuck in her orbit, unable to escape.
“We can’t keep doing this.” Her words don’t match her actions when she moves closer, melting into my side before yawning.
“Let’s make a pact.” I’m grasping at straws because I know she’s right, but I can’t imagine not having another stolen moment.
“Okay,” she whispers against my chest, her breath skidding across my skin.
My eyes close as I brace myself for an argument. “Just give me tonight. Stay with me, and tomorrow we’ll decide what we’re going to do. I’m too tired to think, and I’m too comfortable to move. Stay here in my arms.”
Her tiny hand splays across my chest right above my heart. “I’ll stay,” she yawns.
I wait for more, but she’s quiet suddenly, and her breathing has changed. Pushing my head into the pillow, I peer down at her moonlit face. Her lips are parted, eyes closed, and tiny snores echo throughout the room.
Chuckling to myself, I realize I didn’t even have to ask—she wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
When I wakein the morning, she’s pressed flush against me—her back to my front. I don’t dare move for fear of waking her and losing this moment. My arm’s snaked around her middle, holding her tightly, and our legs are perfectly fitted together without a space between us.
Just like clockwork, my morning hard-on rears its ugly head.Fuck. If she wakes now, I’m fucked. It just needs a little time to melt away, forgetting whatever wet dream I probably had about Reagan overnight.
Lying here with her in my arms is the most peace I’ve had in years. When I finally fell asleep, no more nightmares came. It’s like Reagan chases away my demons without even trying.
I study the lines of her profile, memorizing every soft curve and edge while she sleeps. Her dark eyelashes kiss the tops of her cheeks and turn up slightly at the tips. She’s beautiful, heavenly almost with her porcelain skin free of imperfections.
