It wouldn’t sink in until way later that he’d said I was tough. That he thought that about me. All I managed to do was swallow. “I hope you’re right. I’ve got a lot left I’d like to do someday.” I sniffled. “I haven’t even learned how to swim yet,” I told him for some fucking reason, probably because after this shit, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to stick my face under water ever again, much less swim.
He stared.
And I just frowned at that beautiful face. “Really though. Why are you being so nice? Why are you doing this?”
His eyebrows arched. “I’m not being nice.” The rest of his face caught up in an expression that fell somewhere between a frown and confusion. “You did the same for me.”
He had a point. That didn’t mean I trusted him all that much though, even with how kind he was trying to be… or how nice hewasbeing. It made more sense that he didn’t want to have to deal with my smelly, dead body. I was sick, and my brain wasn’t running on all cylinders, but I was still going to accept anything he was willing to throw my way.
I smiled weakly. At least I tried to. I probably just looked dehydrated. “You look a lot better,” I told him quietly.
“I am.”
“I’m really glad you are.”
Rubbing a hand against my forehead, I was attempting to hold back a moan at the pain radiating from my head when I heard him sigh and say, “Come here.”
“Come where?” I asked, rubbing more. I hated this. I hated this so much. How could I feel so bad? I would do some sketchy shit for a painkiller right about now. If I got out of here, I was never taking one of those for granted ever again. I might kiss the next bottle I bought. I’d dress it up for Halloween, maybe take it for a daily walk. Might stuff one into my bra in case of emergencies.
“Here,” he replied, sighing again, sounding only a little exasperated. “Come here.” He crisscrossed those long legs and tilted his head back, raising dark eyebrows at me. Then he opened his arms wide, stretching the material clinging to his shoulders and biceps for dear life. “Come on,” he demanded.
Where? There?By him?
I looked at the hard, concrete floor, then at his crabby, little eyes.
The thing was, I knew who I was and what I’d been through. What I’d experienced. I understood exactly what kind of quicksand I was in.
And I was pretty sure I understood exactly what he was offering, even if it didn’t feel real.
Did I get why he was doing it? No. Should I question it? Probably. Was I going to?
It only took a second for me to decide.
I’d played it safe my whole life, and look where it had landed me.
He’d offered. It was his idea, I justified to myself about a split second before scooting over then scooting over some more, right into the gap between his legs. Then I scooched down right in there. On top of him. My butt cradled right in the nook The Defender’s knees created.
Slowly, so cautiously, my giant, imaginary balls swelling in size, I stretched my legs out and draped them over his thigh, part of me expecting him to suddenly change his mind and tell me to fuck off.
To tell me to get off his lap.
It didn’t happen though, and I took my time leaning against him about a second after I settled on him, letting the side of my forehead slowly rest against his chest, right at the base of his throat. It made the most sense to put it there. The zipper on the hoodie wasn’t annoying, or maybe the rest of me hurt so bad it was easy to ignore it being pressed against my cheek.
And damn near instantly, at least ten of my muscles, muscles that had been strained so tight, relaxed.
Because he wasn’t warm, but he wasn’t cold. And he was more comfortable than the floor. So much more comfortable than the floor.
And let it be said, I knew I missed touch. Missed hugs. Affection in general. But the feel of his body brought a comfort that I was desperate enough to suck up with a straw.
Right then it didn’t matter that he was The Defender. He could have been anybody, and I would’ve appreciated it. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me.
And sure, it was because I’d done the same for him, but it wasn’t like I’d done it expecting anything in return.
While we were there… while he was being so willing…
His inhale of surprise was the only noise he made after I reached behind me, picked up his arm, and wrapped it around my side. I even set his hand in my lap. Like we weren’t damn near strangers. Like he hadn’t spent weeks glaring at me for some reason, and he wasn’t one of the most special people in the world, and I was… not.
Like I had any right to demand anything of him.
