He put his hand over mine, pressing my palm against his chest briefly before his fingers curled around mine, and then headed toward the hallway, pulling me after him to the bathroom.
While he turned on the shower, his back to me, I stripped out of my shorts, the heat unbearable.
When he glanced back, his breath caught before he averted his gaze.
“Jesus,” he ground out, his voice thick. He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes trained on the floor when he extended a hand to help me into the shower. “Cool off in here for a while. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
And what if I needed him now?
I stepped toward him, taking his hand. “Whit,” I said, his name saying everything I wanted to but didn’t know how to voice.
At this, he looked at me—really looked at me—conflict showing in his eyes, a struggle between apology and…longing. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
He then moved past me and out of the room, pulling the door mostly closed, but leaving it open just enough that I knew he could hear me if I called.
The first touch of the water stole my breath no doubt colder to me than it actually was. I don’t know how long I stood there under the water, letting it soak my hair, cool my skin. I leaned against the tile and let my forehead rest on my folded arms. As the heat finally dissipated, a bone-deep exhaustion took its place, hitting me so hard, I had to grasp the windowsill to steady myself.
I shut off the water and grabbed a towel, my teeth chattering as I hastily dried off. Shivering, I wrapped my bathrobe around me and hugged myself, trying to ward off the chills wracking my body.
“Whit,” I called, my voice shaking.
He was there in an instant, gathering me close, his warmth wrapping around me. He tucked me under his chin, his palm rubbing slow circles on my back, his touch so careful, so tender, it made my throat tighten.
“You’ll be okay,” he murmured against my hair. “C’mon, let’s get you something hot to drink. That’ll help.”
I laughed weakly as he ushered me to the living room. “Just make sure there’s no booze in it. I never realized I was such a lightweight.”
After I settled on the couch with a warm blanket, he brewed tea and helped me to hold it for the first few sips, his hands covering mine. When my eyes began to droop, he set my mug aside and found a thicker blanket, draping it over me before resuming his seat beside me.
“I’m so sorry,” I told him, stifling a yawn. “I never get like this. What in the world was in that wine?”
When I sagged sideways toward him, he put his arm around my shoulders and drew me in. Despite the lingering haze clouding my mind, I noticed that I fit against him perfectly as if we’d been made for one another.
“Rest now, sweetheart,” Whit said, his voice soft. He pressed his cheek to my damp hair and held me a little tighter. “I’ll sit with you until you’re asleep.”
Except I didn’twantto fall asleep. I wanted to stay awake, sink into the warmth of him, the comfort of his arms.
But his heartbeat was steady and strong and soothing under my ear, and sleep took me anyway.
The air was heavy.
Pressure weighed on my chest, squeezing my lungs, forcing me awake with a gasp.
My eyes snapped open to search the darkness that seemed just a little too thick, too…aware.
Whit had gone, but I couldn’t shake the sensation that someone was standing just out of my sight. The apartment suddenly felt claustrophobic, full, and yet vastly, endlessly empty like some great cosmic void had opened up in its center, sucking out its soul. Or maybe it was just the after effects of the wine.
I clicked on the lamp next to the couch where I still lay and scanned the living room once again now that the soft light illuminated the small space. But thatsolitary lamp seemed to cast more shadows than it dispelled. It flickered. Once. Almost imperceptible. I stared at it, waiting. But it didn’t happen again.
Convinced the flicker had been nothing more than a normal surge of electricity, I shoved aside the fleece blankets Whit had draped over me and sat up, disjointed memories of what had happened playing in my head.
Groaning, I pulled my hand down my face.
What the hell had come over me? It’s not like I’d never had a drink before. But a couple of glasses of elderberry wine and I was totally wasted. Worse, I had completely thrown myself at Whit. Which was nothing like the real me.
I just hoped he didn’t think less of me, that I hadn’t derailed things between us before there was even anythingtoderail. But considering the way he’d bolted from the bathroom, maybe I’d misread him. Maybe the heated glances, the charged moments were all in my head. Maybe all along he’d just been trying to be a good friend.
With another groan, I flopped back against the couch cushions, covering my face while the full force of my embarrassment washed over me.
