“What do you need?” she asked.
“If he, or anyone else, ever does something like that to you again, you will call me for help. Whether you have to use your phone or scream at the top of your lungs. Okay?”
Nova nodded. “I can do that,” she said.
“You’re not alone anymore, Nova. You have me.” He put his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “And I have you, right?”
She stared up at him and nodded.
“Do you need to go upstairs for the night?” he asked.
“We’re slammed,” Nova started to say.
“We can figure it out if you need to take off.”
Goddess, he was so damned sweet.
“No,” she said. “I don’t need to take off.”
Torin released her hand and cupped her cheek. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her. “That’s my girl.”
ChapterTwenty-One
It was after closing and Nova was dragging. Being frightened and then angry had taken its toll on her. She was exhausted.
As they walked up the stairs to Torin’s apartment, she leaned against him, letting his arm around her waist help prop her upright.
“Tired, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was a long night.”
He kissed her forehead before he released her long enough to unlock his door. “Here we are. Why don’t you get changed and climb in bed? I’ll bring you a glass of wine.”
“Make that a vodka or a margarita on the rocks and you have a deal,” she agreed.
Torin looked down at her as he brushed her hair back from her face. “You got it.”
Nova climbed up the stairs, sorely tempted to crawl up them on all fours because she was so tired. She washed her face and changed into an oversized t-shirt that fell off one shoulder. She didn’t bother with her shorts, just climbed beneath the covers.
Torin appeared at the top of the stairs just as she was fluffing her pillow so she could lean back against his headboard. He carried a small tray that held two squat glasses filled with what appeared to be margaritas, a bowl of guacamole, and another bowl of chips.
“You didn’t eat dinner,” he said. “So, you’re going to have a snack before bed.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
As he set the tray on the nightstand and handed her a glass, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I promise. I think the rush of adrenaline from the fear or the anger is what sucked away my energy tonight.”
He nodded as he put the bowl of guac and the other bowl of chips between them on the bed. Once he’d settled in his spot, leaning against his own pillow, he grabbed his margarita.
“Well, then you should eat something, and we’ll go to sleep.”
“You’re taking care of me,” she murmured before picking up a chip and dipping it into the guacamole.
