I fell asleep against his chest for the second night straight, the stuffed wolf tucked under my arm, feeling safer than I had in years.
A shift was happening between us, a big, permanent change. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.
17
— • —
Riley
This time, when I woke up, I felt like a new person.
The throat pain was gone. My nose was clear. The heaviness in my chest had lifted completely. It was like my body had decided overnight that being sick was boring and moved on to better things.
Caelan was still wrapped around me. Of course he was. He hadn’t left my side in over twenty-four hours. I was pretty sure he hadn’t showered. I was definitely sure he hadn’t changed clothes.
“You should go home,” I told him, poking his chest. “Shower. Change. Put on clothes that don’t smell like sick person.”
“I don’t smell.”
“You smell like my apartment. Which currently smells like soup and tissues and regret.”
“I like your apartment.”
“Caelan.” I poked him harder. “Go. I’m fine. I promise.”
He didn’t want to leave. I could see it in every line of his body, the reluctance, the possessive need to stay close, the instinct screaming at him that leaving me alone was a bad idea. His jaw tightened. His arms tightened around me.
“I’ll be gone twenty minutes,” he said finally. “Thirty at most.”
“Take your time.”
“Fifteen minutes.” It sounded like a threat. “If you need anything...”
“I’ll text you.”
“If anything feels wrong...”
“I’ll call you.”
“If anyone...”
Good gods.
“Caelan.” I kissed him to shut him up. It worked. When I pulled back, his eyes were dazed, his grip on me loosening slightly. “Go. Shower. Come back smelling like a person instead of a soup kitchen.”
He went. Reluctantly. Looking back at me three times before he finally closed the door. I took my time stretching, enjoying feeling healthy again. I was contemplating a lazy morning of coffee and writing when my phone buzzed.
It was the bookstore where I’d done my signing. Apparently, I’d left some materials behind. Promotional bookmarks, a banner, some signed stock they’d forgotten to give me and I needed to pick up.
I texted Caelan:Heading to the bookstore to grab some stuff. Back soon.
His response was immediate:Wait for me.
Riley:It’s three blocks. I’ll be fine.
Caelan:Riley.
Riley:I’m FINE. Go shower. You smell like desperation and chicken noodle.
