She’s quiet as I glide her sweatshirt over her head leaving her in a T-shirt and settle her against the pile of pillows in front of the headboard. She doesn’t speak while I adjust another pillow under her foot. It isn’t until I’m covering her with her light pink throw that she speaks.
“Owen, thank you.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but her feather-soft breath dances across my cheek in confirmation I didn’t make it up in my head.
Instead of replying, I keep fussing over her. All I want to do is inundate her with questions about her date, but I don’t want to scare her. I firmly remind myself that she needs to rest tonight.
She gives my T-shirt a tug. “Hey, look at me.”
My eyes meet hers, and it’s like coming face to face with an angel. Even covered in cuts and bruises, she’s still devastating.
“I mean it, Swift. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Sitting with me all day, getting my things, letting me stay here,and, of course, keeping my secret. I’ll try to be out of your hair as soon as possible.”
Like hell you will! You aren’t going anywhere.
“I’m happy to help, and you can stay as long as you need to. You certainly aren’t going anywhere until your concussion is cleared.”
“I know you’re busy with work and the team. You don’t have time for this.”
A whine comes from down the hall as if to sayHey, what about me?
“And of course, the dog.”
“Makes co-parenting a lot easier.”
This time she mouths her thank you as she settles back against her pillows. “I feel like a princess,” she says as her eyelids blink open and closed in slow motion. “I need to take a shower, but I’m too tired.”
“Don’t worry about that. It can wait until tomorrow. I can switch out the sheets when you do, and you’ll have a nice clean bed again.”
“Sounds good.” Her eyes succumb to her exhaustion and she’s asleep in a matter of seconds.
Taking advantage of the moment, I examine her features as I push her hair behind her ear. The cut over her right cheek and the pink of the bruise on her forehead that I know will be purple tomorrow sends another dose of violent rage coursing through my veins, but I do my best to ignore it. Instead, I focus on the perfection of her face. Her long lashes, like a fringe beneath her eyes, practically resting on her high cheekbones, the freckles on her dainty nose that I’ve always wanted to count and so I do. Thirteen. Some are barely visible, but now I can see them all clearly. We aren’t hiding away in the dark. Tonight, in the fully lit room, I see everything.
Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here in my bed.
Her skin is flawless despite all the damage, still holding onto her summer tan. Her slightly parted, full pink lips call to me, but I don’t lean in to kiss them. That’s not what this is about.
She’s here so I can take care of her.
So I can keep her safe.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daisy
Ascratch at the door wakes me. My eyes blink slowly as I stretch myself awake. Unfortunately, the pain blanketing my body stops my stretch from reaching its full potential. I hurt everywhere, and I’m not at home. The greys and blues of the room belong to Owen. The thumping in my chest speeds up and my emotions trip all over themselves like they always do when I wake in his bed, but then the events of yesterday come rushing back and I pull the blanket up to my neck in an attempt to combat the shakes taking over my body. The details of my date with Wesley flash through my brain like I’m swiping through photos on my phone.
We met at the Hollow Cafe for coffee and it went well. His energetic personality was palpable and somehow his look matched his vibe. Decked out in his tight performance T-shirt and short shorts over tight leggings. His shaggy dirty-blond hair long enough to curl around the nape of his neck. Soft hazel eyes that twinkled when he laughed. He was easygoing, and moreimportantly didn’t give me the creepy vibe so many guys I’ve met on dating sites put off. He seemed more interested in a friend to hike and climb with than a romantic connection, just like he had when we met on the app.
I let everyone believe I was looking for a love connection, but the truth is, he and I had already discussed the nature of our date. My hike with Wesley was supposed to be nothing more than a fun day with someone compatible. I was honest with him and let him know I was trying to get over someone and I wasn’t looking for a relationship or sex.
Wesley was a hyperactive puppy. Adorable, but nowhere near enough of a man to kick Owen to the back of my mind.
It was the perfect weather for a hike. We laughed all the way from the café to the parking lot at Smith Rock. At the start of our trek our chatter from the café continued. He told me about his trips around the world fulfilling his climbing passion. I talked about my crazy brothers and my busy job. As we ascended to the peak of the trail, he got quiet which I figured was simply him finding a way to settle himself before scaling a perfectly good rock for no reason other than the adrenaline rush. He traversed Monkey Face, a popular area for climbers, like a pro. He hurt his shoulder as he made his way off the rock and asked me if I would carry his backpack and of course, I said yes. That damn pack was so heavy it took everything I had in me not to fall ass over tea kettle as we made our way down the steep trail.
The last thing I remember was losing my balance and then my memory jumps to a woman’s face and the far away sound of her voice, high above her, I can see the cliff I remember being on a moment before.
My pulse races as the dire situation I was in only hours ago registers.
I could have died yesterday.
