His head tilts, and the severity in his eyes bores through me. “That’s what we decided last night, wasn’t it?”
I wasn’t aware we’d made any decisions last night. Last night, I left to apologize. He had a breakdown and told me that he can’t help being a terrible person because it’s how he’s learned to survive. I said,Understandable, have a good night. And then I failed to sleep for the next eight hours.
At my silence, he sighs and rises, giant before me. Offering his hand, he casts an indecipherable look down at me.
I look at his face, then at his hand, then back to his face.
He lifts a brow.
I dare to open my mouth. “I don’t want to take that.”
“What?”
“Your hand. I don’t want to.” I wet my lips. I might be trembling. “But I don’t want to not take it, because that’ll look rude. But I’m not trying to be rude. I just…” I cannot feel my face, shoulder, or… I whimper. Chin, waist, hips… I can’t feelmanyparts of me without the addition ofhim. Worse, he’s gone and left a lot more casual touches this morning, all before breakfast.
I cannot keep thinking of myself as a patchwork of this man’s handprints.
I willneedto sleep eventually.
His fingers close. “I’m sorry.”
“No. No, it’s my fault. I’m…not feeling well today.”
“If you’re sick, you can take the day off.”
Ha. If I took a day off every time I felt mentally unstable, I would be homeless. “I’m well. I just…don’t feel well, you know?”
His expression does not say,Ah, yes, I perfectly understand, you relatable queen. Which is, of course, why I tend to think very carefully before I speak and opt to remain quiet most of the time.
He crouches, again, and my breath catches in response to the regained nearness.
He peers at me for many long moments, then he reaches for me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and breath leaves me when his hand meets my cheek—the other one, neither cheek is sacred now. Heat boils and rises and overflows.
“Interesting,” he murmurs.
“What is?” I whisper.
He removes his hand, so I peek at him, find him rising and…
He’s smiling.
Smiling.
Down at me.
Softly.
So, so,sosoftly.
It is the warmest expression I have ever—in my life—seen on anyone’s face.
“Don’t worry about it.” Then he offers me his hand again. Gently commanding, he says, “Take it.”
Dazed, I obey, and he draws me up closer to his smile. My hand tingles in his. I can’t breathe.
“Now…” His thumb runs over my knuckles. “About Jeffry?”
