Didn’t ask.
She simply stripped out of her clothes—peeling off her blouse, her slacks, her bra—until there was nothing left but warm skin and the woman I’d crawl through fire for.
The sight wasn’t sexual.
Not even close.
It was tender—devastatingly so.
A wordless confession of trust. She felt safe here. Safe with me.
I watched her pad toward the bedroom, bare feet slapping against the floor in that endearing way of hers.
I followed—drawn, tracing the ghost of each step she took.
By the time I rounded the corner, she was already slipping into one of her soft gowns, a pretty sweep of fabric skimming her thighs, her hair twisted into a chaotic knot at the top of her head. A version of her she rarely let anyone else see.
I grabbed drinks, snacks, the small comforts I knew she clung to on days like this. By the time I was done, she was already curled on the cushions, waiting for me. The moment I sat, her head dropped into my lap. Our new normal since the night of the mugging.
The Cullens’ sterile museum of a house filled the screen only moments after, along with Alice—the only character in the entire franchise worth tolerating.
Emma reached for M&Ms, crunching through them—her jaw shifting against my thigh with each bite. By the time the film was halfway through, the candy was gone, and her body had gone still, her rhythm slow and even.
She was so close to sleep I could feel it.
My fingers threaded through her hair, massaging her scalp in slow, gentle strokes.
Her phone lit up from its place balancing on her hip—bright as a flare in the dim room. I snatched it, prepared to intercept anything from the press or Elion.
Instead: Candace.
I swiped to answer.
“Hey. Emma’s sleeping. What’s up?”
“Oh, thank god.” Relief poured through the line.
Emma stirred beside me, blinking awake. “Who’s that?”
I brushed her hair back. “Candace.”
She reached blindly, palm open. I placed the phone in her hand.
She lifted it to her ear, face still pressed to my leg. “Hey,” she croaked. Then listened.
Her expression shifted. “Um… okay.”
Another pause.
Her brows pinched, then smoothed.
Finally: “Yeah. Five is fine.”
Every nerve went on alert.
I leaned down, voice low. “Five for what?”
She waved me off without looking at me, still listening to Candace.
