He turned, eyes narrowed into irritated slits as he watched her. It was then that she really got a good look at his face under the lighting. Dark circles under his eyes, frown lines more prominent than she remembered … His stubble was longer than before, too, like he’d forgotten to shave over the last few days, and his short hair, which she’d only ever seen immaculately tidy, was a mess, like he’d run his hands through it several times.
“When was the last time you ate, Murphy?” Nessa asked, her voice softening. “Or slept? You look exhausted.”
Huffing, he turned back to the fridge, looking inside again like it had magically grown food.
Before she could think better of it, Nessa left her stool, moving over to the surly shifter. She stopped a foot away from him, waiting for her heartbeat to pick up or her breath to catch. Usually, being this close to another man always caused anxiety to prickle across her mind.
But just like when he’d touched her, all she felt was an odd sense of ease.
“Want me to make you something?”
“I don’t need you coddling me, Nessa,” Murphy grumbled, still glaring at the fridge.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I asked, Grumpy.”
Was the huffing a family trait? Tank was always grunting about something. Or maybe it was a bear thing? Her lips twitched again, imagining a grizzly bear stubbing its toe on a tree stump and grumbling as its jowls flapped comically.
Murphy cast a sidelong look in her direction. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Nessa answered quickly, moving a little bit closer so she could peek into the fridge too. It was as barren as it looked through the glass door. “Do you have a pantry?”
He pointed to a long cabinet beside the fridge. Not wasting a moment, she moved to the pantry, taking a look inside. It wasalmost as bad as the fridge. A few packages of instant ramen noodles, a bag of unopened potato chips … Atonof sugary snacks filled one entire shelf. Not much else.
How the hell was Murphy in such good shape with a diet like this?
“I told you, I don’t need you cooking for me,” Murphy repeated from behind her, the exasperation in his voice clear.
She begged to differ, especially if these were his options for a meal.
Why does it matter? You claim you don’t want him, and yet here you are, trying to take care of him.
Nessa ignored him and the nagging voice inside her head, instead grabbing a box of spaghetti and a jar of red pasta sauce. After checking the expiration date, reassured it wasn’t covered in some nasty mold, she placed both items on the island.
“Are you just going to ignore me?” There was a blur of movement from the corner of her eye, and then Murphy’s hand came into view.
Instinctively, she flinched, startled by the sudden movement. He dropped his hand just as quickly, his voice drowned out by her pulse now beating a frantic drum in her ears. She moved away from him, dragging in a lungful of air as her heart raced.
So much for being relaxed.
“I’m sorry,” Murphy began, the irritation in his eyes replaced with confusion. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Y-You didn’t,” Nessa began, only to grimace at the nervous pitch in her tone. Great, now he definitely knew she was lying. She looked away from him, staring down at the countertop as she focused on her breathing. After a few seconds, she added, “I just forgot how quickly you can move. That’s all.”
Yeah, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you thought he was going to hit you, she thought sarcastically, suddenly feeling the strongest urge to cry.
God, was she ever going to be rid of her demons? When she’d moved to Montana, she’d felt so optimistic about her future. She’d begun to hope, to dream that one day, she’d regain some semblance of herself.
And then after the attack …
Maybe she’d never find herself again. Maybe she was doomed to remain lost forever.
“Spaghetti sounds great, Nessa.”
Nessa’s head shot up, her gaze colliding with the bear in front of her. Murphy’s eyes, still a bright golden, bore into her, as if he could see everything that she tried so hard to keep hidden. It made her feel vulnerable, like pieces of herself were being laid bare.
If he saw her, trulysawher, would he feel disgusted by her weaknesses? Would he find her lacking, like she so often did? Would he think her pathetic for putting herself in such a terrible situation all those years ago?
Why was she even concerned about what he thought?
