Shiloh scrunched her nose, and I couldn’t help smiling at the adorableness of it. “Great.”
“How are you feeling?”
She looked up at me, and I could see the embarrassment in her red eyes and flushed face. “Fine.”
Freaking hell, I hate that word.
“Does that happen a lot?”
She licked her lips, rifling through the bag on the counter and snorting at the variety of products.
“Which part?”
“All of it? Any of it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t usually have sleepwalking panic attacks, no.”
I studied her, wishing for the umpteenth time I could just read her thoughts.
“Right. I just…does your therapist know about these ‘sleepwalking panic attacks’?” Shiloh shook her head. “I really think you should talk to her about them. I’m worried, Shy. You scared the hell out of me, but you also scared the hell out of yourself.”
I could tell she was shutting me out. I cupped her chin, tipping her head back to meet my eyes.
“You were afraid of me last night. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Then why were you so terrified? You were praying like I was about to murder you in the bathtub.”
She flicked her eyes to the side, and I knew she remembered the dream or maybe it was a flashback.Fuck. Please don’t tell me that was a flashback.
“Is this…” I chewed my lip, debating bringing up my own assumptions. “I know you got your eye problem because of your mom…she tried to drown you in the bathtub, right? Is that why you were worried about the bathtub last night?”
“I really don’t remember what I was dreaming about.”
I sighed, releasing her chin. “If you won’t talk to me, then promise me you’ll talk to your therapist. I don’t want to be lied to. Honesty, remember?”
She bit into her lip and nodded in agreement.
“Promise?” I asked, holding her gaze.
“Promise,” she whispered.
“Good.”
I was disappointed that she hadn’t been honest with me but tried to push the feelings of hurt aside. I didn’t want to let it spoil the day we had to spend together. And as much as I wanted to know every single thing about her, every thought, every fear, every desire…I knew I wasn’t entitled to them.
Shiloh insisted on helping me clean up the kitchen after breakfast, so I grabbed my speaker.
“Do you want to DJ?” I offered.
“Um, sure. Just fair warning though, I don’t listen to the same genre as you.”
I studied her face with intrigue as she connected her phone to the speaker. When the heavy guitar and vocals started, I was stunned speechless. I focused on the lyrics while I watched her fidget with her phone. I wasn’t certain if she was messing with me.
Shiloh looked up at me with a raised brow, “Are we gonna clean?”
I shook myself out of my trance and nodded, “Yeah, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to…well, I mean I guess it does kind of match your tough-guy façade.”
