The bed jostles when he climbs on next to me, fully dressed, staying on top of the bedding I’m bundled beneath.
The move is unexpected, but, strangely, not unwanted. “What are you?—?”
“Come here,” he says, jostling me again, until I end up with my face on his chest, snuggled beneath his arm.
“Catfish, I?—”
“Don’t overthink it, Wren.”
The dreaded compression around my chest that seems to be suffocating me these days releases an inch as his warmth seeps into me.
His hand strokes through my hair. “Soft as I thought it would be.” The words are muttered, but it does something to me to know he’s thought about what my hair would feel like. “You’re safe, Wren. At least, as safe as I can make your world for you.”
I appreciate the qualification, because the wholeyou’re safething is never true.
In the quiet, it’s easy to admit my greatest fear. “They aren’t going to stop hunting me, though. No matter where I am.”
“Ah, shit. I think I need to know what happened, before you came here. What’s going on? I feel like if I can understand the risks, we can solve them.”
I look up at him. “I don’t want to drag you into this.” Despite how I’m starting to wish that we were in this problem together. Side by side. Looking out for each other.
Catfish huffs, then tugs me tighter. “No?”
“Despite current appearances, I’m not useless. I’m just going through some things that seem to have me…overwhelmed. Greer says I just need some rest. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
He grips some of my hair in his fist and tugs on it gently. “You need more than one day’s rest. And no one ever said you are useless. But I’m guessing your enemies are the opposite of that. Otherwise, King wouldn’t have used club resources to get you all the way out here. And trust me, having had some run-ins overthe last few years with various organized crime syndicates, I’d rather face them with my brothers at my back than on my own.”
When he puts it like that, it makes sense. King and Vex felt I shouldn’t share the details, but I’m starting to trust Catfish. “If I tell you, can you promise me you won’t tell any of the others?”
He offers me his pinkie finger.
I can’t help but chuckle. “You want to pinkie promise?”
Catfish shrugs. “Why not. I mean, it’s no more or less legally binding than any other thing we can do while sitting here on the bed.”
“What happened tomy word is my bond?”
“I hang out with my niece and nephew a lot. They’re three-year-old twins. Chaos and calm in equal measure. My pinkie promise is absolutely binding. I can get references if you like.”
“Well, if it’s good enough for three-year-olds, it’s good enough for me.” I loop my pinkie around his, and we shake, but instead of releasing my hand, Catfish links his fingers with mine.
I should ask him what he’s doing, what we’re doing, but the cowardly part of me isn’t brave enough to. What if holding my hand was done on autopilot, and when I ask, he lets go? Because I love the way his calloused hand feels against mine.
I love the solid sound of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
I love the way he smells of fresh air and leather and musk.
“Can I ask you something personal? Before you start?” he asks.
“I might not answer but go ahead.”
“I caught a vibe, but I wanna check. Are you into…well…men? People of a masculine nature? Guys. Fuck. You know what I’m trying to ask.”
My lips curve against his hoodie, and I look up, because I need to see his eyes. “I’m into people who make me feel seen,” I say. “And yeah…sometimes those people are men.”
He exhales, a little laughter caught in it. “Good…great. Just needed to know whether the two of us sitting like this would be considered flirting or threatening.”
“If it was threatening, I would have kneed you someplace painful and would have been gone.” I pat his chest and settle back down. “But to be clear, I caught the vibe too.”
