“Because you need to know you have choices,” he said finally. “Whatever happened before, whatever that man made you believe about yourself, you have choices here.”
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she nodded, a small, jerky movement that said she didn’t quite believe him but was willing to pretend.
“Thank you. Again.”
Lucian looked as if he wanted to say more. A lot more. Instead, he just inclined his head and walked out, his shoulder brushing mine as he passed.
Percy bounded in a moment later with an armful of supplies. “Towels, toothbrush, toothpaste, some of my clothes because they’ll fit better than anything Lucian owns. He dresses like a Victorian undertaker.” He dumped everything on the bed and grinned at her. “Anything else you need, just ask.”
“I keep on thinking this but you really are a golden retriever.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. I’ll take it as a compliment.” He backed toward the door, still grinning. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll figure out the details. Food, clothes, burning your ex’s life to the ground. The usual.”
“Percy.” Lucian’s voice carried from somewhere downstairs.
“Coming!” He pointed finger guns at Mira, which was possibly the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen him do, and disappeared down the hall.
That left me.
I stood in the doorway, not entering but not leaving. She’d moved to the window and was staring out at the forest beyond the glass. The lamplight caught the copper streaks in her hair, the ones she’d tried so hard to hide.
Beautiful.
She was so goddamn beautiful, and she had no idea. I wanted to cross the room and press myself against her back, wrap my armsaround her waist, bury my face in her neck and inhale until I was drunk on her scent.
My cock throbbed against my zipper. I didn’t move.
“You can go,” she said without turning around. “I know you all have things to do.”
“Nothing important.”
She turned then. Studied me with those beautiful eyes that saw too much.
“You’re the quiet one.”
“Yes.”
“The one who doesn’t ask questions.”
“I ask questions. Just not out loud.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly. “What are you asking right now?”
I considered lying. Giving her the kind of non-answer that usually ended conversations. But she was looking at me with an expression that said she actually wanted to know, and that made honesty feel less dangerous than usual.
“I’m asking what you actually need to feel safe,” I said. “Not what you think you should need or afraid to ask for.”
Her breath caught, just slightly. My whole body went tight at the noise. I wondered what other sounds I could pull from that throat if she let me.
The silence settled between us. It wasn’t uncomfortable or tense. Just present, the way silence could be when two people were taking each other’s measure.
“Could you stay?” Her voice came out smaller than before. “Just outside the door. I know that’s weird. I know I just told you to go. But I think...” She stopped then started again. “I think I might sleep better knowing someone’s there.”
The request hit me in the chest.
She was asking me to guard her. To be near her, be the presence between her and the world while she was at her most vulnerable.
She had no idea what she was offering me. No idea that I would have stayed outside that door for the rest of my very long life if she’d asked.
