“Why?”
“Work.”
She actually laughs, a soft, disbelieving sound. “You can’t even stand.”
“I stood earlier.”
“And then fell.”
“Details.”
She whispers, “Stubborn mule,” under her breath.
I blink at her, trying to force my brain to cooperate. “Delaney… about?—”
She immediately presses a finger to my lips.
“No,” she says firmly. “Not now.”
“I shouldn’t have?—”
“Caleb.” Her hand shifts, thumb brushing my cheek. The touch is so gentle, my ribs pull tight around it. “You were trying to care. I just… wasn’t ready to be seen.”
“I made it worse.”
“No.” Her voice softens even more. “You didn’t.”
I want to believe her.
I want to memorize the way she’s looking at me. Warm and worried and close enough to breathe in.
“I care,” I whisper before my fogged brain thinks better of it.
Her eyes flicker, a tenderness flashing there before she masks it.
“I know,” she murmurs.
My eyelids grow heavier. My body tilts sideways. She catches my head before it hits the armrest and eases me down, tucking a blanket around my shoulders with careful, capable hands.
“Sleep,” she says.
I try to protest.
Nothing comes out.
Her palm strokes my hair once more, feather light.
“You’re safe,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.”
And just like that, the fight leaves my body.
I sink into the couch, into the warmth, into the scent of her near me.
Into the feeling I’ve been trying so damn hard not to name.
I fall asleep with her fingers still tangled in my hair.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
