Yawning, I pull the heavy blanket over me, roll to my side, close my eyes, and sink into slumber.
“CASSIDY!”
I jerk awake, startled by what sounded like my name being shouted from outside of the room. Blinking into the darkness, I roll onto my back, listening intently for what may have waken me.
Then it sounds again, “CASSIDY!” but this time the shouted name is followed up by heavy footfalls coming swiftly down the hallway.
Sitting up, I grab for my phone, still where I had tossed it earlier, revealing countless missed calls and texts, and the current time.
5AM.
Shit.
I push the blanket off me, scooting to the side of the bed, but my feet haven’t even hit the floor before the door flies open, revealing a wild-eyed Ren. He makes a beeline for me, his hands grabbing my upper arms and pulling me to my feet. “Where the fuck were you?”
“What?”
He gives me a slight shake, his eyes searching mine. “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”
My first instinct is to tear myself out of his grip and tell him to get fucked because I do what I want. But beneath his outward anger I hear the worry in his voice. The panic.
“I fell asleep,” I explain in a rush. “I forgot to unmute my phone.”
“You can’t fucking do that, Cassidy,” he responds, his words hard, his grip bordering on painful. “I have to be able to reach you. I have to.”
His voice is harsh, but his expression frantic, as if he’d spent hours going over worse case scenarios instead of thinking rationally. A problem I can relate to all too well.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer, tears pooling in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
His features soften, his tight grip on my upper arms immediately easing. Sitting next to me, his hands move upward, one cupping my neck and along my skull, pulling me into him. His other hand slides over my shoulders, hugging me close.
I go willingly, embarrassed that I’m now crying openly, completely overwhelmed by the shock of being woken so abruptly. Turning into him, I hide my face against his chest, grateful my tears disappear into the soft cotton of his shirt.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispers into my hair, his hand on my back now rubbing soothingly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Sniffling, I shake my head. “It’s okay. I understand.”
And I do understand. If our positions had been reversed, I would’ve gone into a panic, too. Though in my messed-up brain I would’ve talked myself into thinking he was out being a no-good cheating piece of shit and reacted accordingly.
Brains are stupid sometimes.
“Do you, though,” he asks with a harsh laugh that lacks humor. “I knew at first you were just being a brat. But then, as more time went by and you didn’t respond, I started to worry. Then even more time went by, and I couldn’t find anyone local to check up on you, and then I reached full-on panic mode.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the muted phone,” I whisper, my hands now gripping his shirt as I lean into him. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for you to worry.”
He’s quiet for a moment then sighs. “I’m sorry I came storming in here like an asshole. I’m not used to worrying about anyone other than myself.”
“Yeah,” I answer with a short laugh. “Me either.”
He starts to pull away, so I clutch at him, not ready to reveal my tired, splotchy face, proof of my emotional upheaval. He kisses the top of my head then puts some space between us, explains, “Let’s get more comfortable. I’ve had a long night.”
Suddenly feeling bad once again, I jump up, intent on allowing him to move wherever he chooses, but his hand grabs onto my wrist, preventing me from moving too far. He slides up the mattress, taking me with him as he settles on his back, pulling me gently until he has me cradled along his side.
I wait for him to relax then ask, “You drove here? From Seattle?”
“It’s not that far,” he responds, his shoulder lifting in a dismissive fashion beneath my head.
Slapping him lightly on the chest I exclaim, “It is in the middle of the damn night, Ren.”
