The room is the perfect temperature—cool enough to sleep, but not cold. As his body covers mine, my muscles relax. My tears slow and eventually stop. He somehow knows not to ask about them. I couldn’t talk about them tonight if I wanted to.
After several minutes, I realize that I feel more at peace, more settled, than I have in months. I know precisely when the last time was. It was on the worst day of my life—so far, anyway—in the suite of a fancy hotel with a stranger who made me feel wanted, alive, and safe.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Delaney
Idon’t know how long we’ve been lying like this, but I’m calm, comfortable, and now relaxed enough that I think I can fall asleep, yet I don’t want to. I want to feel something more tonight. Something beyond sadness and anxiety, and there’s no denying the chemistry between Harrison and me.
Before I can overthink it, I flip myself over so that I’m facing him. I’m not even sure if he’s awake, but then his large hand finds my waist and splays across it. He leans towards me and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Are you all right, Bets?” His voice is raspy, and I wonder if he had drifted to sleep and I woke him by moving.
“I’m okay. I’m always okay. I’m sorry you had to see me cry.”
“Hey, no. Don’t apologize for that. You’ve had a hell of a night, and I suspect that there’s more to it. You don’t have to talk about it, but know that if you ever want to, I want to listen. To be there for you.”
God, why does he have to be so perfect sometimes?
I say nothing for a time, then, “Harrison?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss me?” I expect a resounding yes, but instead, his hesitation fills the air around us. I tuck my head down, wanting to disappear, even though he can’t see me in the dark.
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” I scramble to pull away from him. “I’m gonna go back to the guest room?—”
He reaches out and grips my waist to stop me.
“No, Bets. You’re misunderstanding me. I’m not hesitating because I don’t want to kiss you. Fuck, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about doing just that since I found you again. But I also don’t want to be the asshole that takes advantage after you’ve had a shit few hours and are obviously feeling a lot of things tonight.”
“I swear, it’s not about that, but please, I’m already embarrassed enough. My God, you’re my boss.” I wiggle in an attempt to scoot off the bed. He maintains his tender, but firm, hold on me.
“I’m not just your boss,” he growls. “We both know that.”
My lower belly flip-flops at his words.
When I cease trying to escape, he guides me back down onto the bed, and I rest on my side, facing away from him. He molds his body behind mine and wraps a strong arm around my waist and belly. Then he tenderly kisses the crown of my head and rests his chin on top of it.
“I imagine you’re feeling vulnerable right now, so I’m gonna tell you some of what’s been going on in my head, and maybe that’ll help you feel less uncomfortable. Does that work?”
I nod.
“First, I want you to know that I’ve not been with another woman since you. I don’t want to, and I’m not even sure I could. The thought of touching someone else, someone who isn’t you, literally makes me nauseous. I’m not telling you that so you feela need to disclose anything about your last few months. Actually, I don’t want you to tell me if you were with someone else?—”
“I wasn’t,” I say. I don’t like to interrupt, but I feel compelled to make sure he knows. I swear his next breath is deeper and more serene after my confession.
“I realize it doesn’t make sense since we only had one night together. I’m aware there’s still so much for us to learn about the other, but that morning after, I was going to ask you if we couldnotend it. If we could take a few steps back and get to know each other. I haven’t met anyone else who has made me feel the way I did that night with you. And if you think I’m grumpy now, you should’ve seen what a miserable son of a bitch I was between when you left and when you showed up in the office. Especially after I lost you again at Henry and Tillie’s wedding.”
His words remind me that I hid from him, and I unsuccessfully attempt to stifle a laugh.
“Ouch,” Harrison says. I stretch my neck in an effort to see his face without turning my entire body. When he comes into view, the light from the moon shining through the window is just enough for me to glimpse that he’s wearing a gorgeous smile. I nearly melt.
“No, I’m not laughing at you. Nothing you said was funny. It’s just, I kind of freaked out at the wedding.”
“I know, you left before I could get back in the kitchen. Layla held me up, giving me a scolding. She insisted I looked mad and scared you away.” A low laugh escapes him, and it’s sexy as hell.
“But I didn’t leave. That’s why I chuckled. I acted like a lunatic and hid in the pantry. Phyllis, the older lady you spoke to, she covered for me without even knowing why I ran in there in the first place.”
