Anger snaps through me. “Oh, for God’ssake,” I mutter, stomping forward. “Can I have a hug?”
He blinks, freezing. “What?”
“A hug. I doubt you’ve been given many in your life, but I’m sure you’ve heard of the concept. I want one.”
He bristles. “I don’t need—”
“This isn’t about you, it’s about me. You’re right.Seeingyou have a nightmare was so traumatic I need comforting. So do it.”
He’s still for a moment, then tentatively opens his arms. I climb onto his lap and curl up against his chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kenta smile, shutting the door behind him. I bury my face in Matt’s sweaty neck. “Don’t apologise, you utter fuckingdipshit.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a bitch,” he murmurs, lightly laying a hand on my back.
“I am.” I put my cheek on his chest and frown up at him. “A nice person wouldn’t have called you adipshit,would they?” He smiles tightly, but he still looks embarrassed. I’m frustrated. “Why are you acting so ashamed? I had a panic attack and, like,dissolvedon a public bathroom floor in front of you. From what I can gather about your old job, it would be weirder if youweren’ttraumatised.” I grab his hand and put it on my head. “You hug like a mannequin. Stroke my hair.”
He snorts and starts running his fingers through my hair. “There’s kind of adon’t ask, don’t tellpolicy in the military, when it comes to this stuff. People don’t really trust you to carry a gun if they find out you’re screwed in the head.”
“Well, you’re not in the military anymore, you work for me. So stop being so awkward, it’s annoying me.”
He muffles another laugh. “How are you making this aboutyou?”
“I’m a self-obsessed diva, remember?” I shove at him until we’re both lying down. We’re still for a bit. I feel his battering heartbeat slowly ease up through his damp shirt.
I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. I’m still mad at Matt. But I can be mad at him and also care that he’s hurting.
“I’m sorry I shouted at you,” he mutters into my hair. “I’m really,reallysorry.”
“Kenta explained what I did wrong. I still think you could’ve, you know, spoken to me like a human being instead of dragging me away like a naughty toddler.”
He nods slowly. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. I’m sorry. I…” He licks his lips. “It has been brought to my attention that I do this, around a flashback. I can’t stand being close to people, so I snap at them to make them go away. I don’t mean to, I just get overwhelmed, I guess.”
“Wait.” I peel back to look at him. “Are you telling me that you’re not always such a massive prick?”
“I’m always a prick,” he concedes. “But you’ve definitely seen the worst of me since we met. I’m sorry.” He traces a circle on my back.
“Don’t apologise. I think it’s kind of cute.” I tuck into him. “We have matching unhealthy coping mechanisms. How adorable is that?”
He huffs a laugh. We listen to the storm rumble outside. The rain is getting heavier, hammering against the room’s floor-to-ceiling windows. I look out at the grey skyline. “No fair. Your room has a better view. Can I please remind you thatIam the Very Important Person? You’re just regular, unimportant people.”
He grunts. “Yours faces the back of the hotel. Less threat.”
“Oh.” Thunder suddenly claps outside, and he startles, his whole body stiffening. I flatten my hand on his chest, stroking over his heartbeat as he relaxes again. “What are your triggers?”
He glares at me.
I roll my eyes. “What? It kind of seems like pertinent information. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”
He shakes his head, a small jerk. “It’s not really anything you could do. I…” He trails off, his jaw working. “Damp places. Some scents. Glen’s voice, sometimes, especially when he yells. Which I guess is why he keeps so damn quiet, nowadays. Sometimes, just letting my mind wander is enough. But it’s not like a button you press. I can be fine for months, and then—” he raises an eyebrow.
I try to process all of that. “Scents. Any of mine bother you?”
He snorts. “Yeah, Chanel Number Three takes me to a really dark place. No, princess. It’s blood, mostly.”
“Blood? What are you, a shark?”
“If there’s enough of it, you can smell it pretty clear. Sometimes I feel like I can never get the smell of it out of my nose.” He dips his face into my hair. “You always smell like cake,” he says hoarsely. I curve around him, feeling his breath flutter against my neck.
“Any more?”
