After dressing, I walk to the twin basins, assessing the bandage on my head in the mirror. It looks a lot worse than it is. The doctor said I could take the dressing off tomorrow. I reach up and unwind it. What’s a few hours? Like I keep telling everyone, I’m fine.
Running my fingers through my hair, I inspect the lump. It’s smaller than when we left the hospital, even though my head is still tender.
I try to keep my attention away from Sterling’s things. But my gaze keeps tracking back to his electric toothbrush and the bottle of aftershave and other grooming products on the marble counter.
I pick up the aftershave and take the lid off. The scent has my core clenching immediately. That familiar warm, woody spice that’s totally him. I shove the lid on and place the bottle down. What am I doing? In a couple more days I’ll be leaving. I’m not helping anyone by losing my head to my emotions.
I blow out the candles and head into the bedroom, spotting a sweater on the bed. I run my fingers over the soft fabric with a Statue of Liberty print on the front of it.
“I figured you might want something comfortable.”
I turn.
Sterling’s leaning against the doorframe watching me. He’s wearing suit pants and a light blue shirt with a couple of buttons undone at the neck. The only time I’ve seen him without a suit and tie is when I walked in on his exercise session with Sullivan and Mal.
The day I saw the corded muscles rippling in his broad back.
“Thank you.” I lift the sweater off the bed.
We hold each other’s eyes for a beat before he straightens up. “You need to eat.”
I pull the sweater on, trying not to notice that it smells like him even though it’s brand-new. It’s probably because it’s been amongst his things and lying on his bed. The bed I have to sleep in tonight.
I head into the kitchen, and Sterling sets a bowl of soup and a plate of warm bread in front of me as I climb up onto a stool at the giant granite island.
“Where did you get this? It smells amazing.” I breathe in the comforting scent of chicken soup, like Jenny and I would have as kids when we were sick.
“I made it.” He sits next to me where there’s another place set, looking at me pointedly when I don’t move. “I’ll feed it you myself if you don’t start eating.”
“Sorry.” I pull my eyes away from his soft smile and pick up my spoon.
It’s delicious, and soon, I’ve finished the entire bowl.
“You’re tired. You need rest.” Sterling studies my face, looking at the lump on my head that’s no longer covered by the bandage.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Hallie.”
I hold back my wince at the dull ache that’s been building in my head since I got out of the bath.
“Maybe I’ll go and lie down,” I murmur.
He abandons the bowls and follows me to his bedroom like he’s concerned that taking his eyes off me for a second could have catastrophic consequences.
He pulls back the thick throw on his bed and watches me as I take off the sweater and climb in.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“Thank you.”
The covers have barely been laid over me before my eyelids grow heavy and his retreating footsteps are just echoes.
I wake into near darkness, and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. The only light is from the glow of the city through a gap in the blackout shades.
Sterling’s sleeping on the sofa, both hands resting on his stomach as he takes soft, rhythmic breaths. I can make out the hoodie and sweatpants he’s wearing. The thin blanket that was covering him has slipped to the floor.
Pushing the covers back, I slide out of bed and look around for the Statue of Liberty sweatshirt, but don’t see it. If I put another layer on, Sterling can have the throw from the bed. It’s not fair that he gets cold and has to sleep fully clothed because I’ve stolen his bed.
