“Me, too.”He leaned in and brushed a soft kiss on my temple.“Good night, Ariana.”
I closed my eyes, basking in the feel of his lips on me, even if it wasn’t as deep or sensual as I hoped.
“Good night, Henry.”
I met his gaze one last time, a thousand thoughts on the tip of my tongue.But I didn’t allow myself to utter them.Instead, I slipped into my room and closed the door, already feeling the chill of his absence as I listened to his retreating footsteps.
On a long sigh, I kicked off my boots and peeled off my sweater dress before pulling on a t-shirt and sleep shorts.But as I went through my nightly routine of washing my face and brushing my teeth, my thoughts kept returning to Henry.
My head warned me not to trust so easily.Not after everything Victor put me through.
But my heart whispered of everything Henry had done for me.Every sacrifice.Every risk.Every moment of gentleness he didn’t think I saw.
He’d proven again and again he wasn’t like Victor.
That questionable choices didn’t make him a bad man.
That he would stand between me and danger every time, even if it cost him everything.
That he was the only person Itrustedto stand between me and danger.
I froze, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach.
He was the only person I trusted.
The realization hit me like a brick wall, nearly stealing my breath.
ItrustedHenry.I probably had for a while now.
I just hadn’t trusted myself.
I moved before I could think, flinging open the door.The hallway was quiet and dim, except for the sliver of warm light glowing beneath Henry’s bedroom door.My heart pounded, but not with fear.With anticipation.
With want.
With certainty.
I padded down the hall and stopped outside his door, lifting my hand to knock.The sound seemed deafening in the silence, echoing around me.
For a few agonizing seconds, nothing happened.Maybe he wasn’t here.Maybe he’d gone down to the office.
I was about to turn away, take this as a sign, when I heard footsteps, and the door swung open.
Henry stood there, jeans low on his hips, shirt unbuttoned, the lamplight catching on the muscles of his chest.The tattoos.The scars.
“Is everything okay?”he asked, his voice rough with concern.
I opened my mouth, but every thought in my head scattered like leaves in the wind.
Words felt inadequate.Too small to contain everything I felt.Everything I wanted to convey.
So I didn’t use them.
Instead, I reached for the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head before sliding my shorts down my legs, kicking them to the side, allowing him to see all my scars.
Trustinghim to see all my scars.
Henry’s gaze darkened instantly, his breath going ragged.
