“Thank you,” she says, her body melting against mine.
“Goodnight,” I whisper right before she falls asleep in my arms.
She doesn’t need to know how far I’ll go to protect her from this douchebag.
Chapter twenty-four
No. No. No. Instead of happily waking up in Cas’s arms, I wake up to the all-too-familiar feeling of my period. Fuck! I hope I haven’t bled through. This is so embarrassing. Being careful so as not to wake him, I climb off the couch and run to the downstairs bathroom to check.
I’m thankful to find I’ve not bled through yet, but I’ve definitely started. This might explain some of my rage—and other emotions—recently. I run to the entryway where I left my bag and begin ripping through it in search of underwear, since apparently all of mine no longer exist. I find a pair along with clean sweats, then run up to my bathroom for a shower.
At the door, I pause. It’s nerve-racking walking into my room after everything Cas told me happened. But I quickly realize I had nothing to worry about. Cas replaced the mattress, added new bedding—nothing even feels out of place. The bedding looks really comfortable. There are plush pillows, a squishy gray comforter, and a furry throw blanket. My poor period body aches for the soft embrace of a bed.
But I also never showered after my flight, so I feel even more disgusting. The only upside is smelling like Cas. I’m obsessed with the smell of his cologne. I pull my shirt against my nose, inhaling one more time before I strip it off.
When I emerge from my shower, I put on fresh clothes and head into the kitchen to see what I can make for breakfast. Cas is still passed out on the couch. This is a sight I could get used to. Mr. Big Bad Protector sleeping peacefully like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I drink the sight in as my heart skips a beat. He stirs, and I turn away to start some coffee.
I busy myself at the machine, hoping my lingering gaze didn’t wake him. I have an unopened bottle of creamer I bought right before my trip, knowing coffee would be needed before my pre-scheduled grocery order arrives. I’ve made it a habit to order groceries for delivery after a trip.
A few minutes later, warm, muscular arms wrap around my waist, and Cas kisses my neck. “You left me, and I missed you.” His voice is raspy against my ear.
“I needed to shower,” I confess. “My room…it looks good. Maybe we can lay in bed all day. Thanks again.”
He kisses me again before murmuring, “You’re welcome, and we can do whatever you want to do today.”
‘I’m glad you’re here,“ I reply, leaning against him, soaking in the feeling of being wanted.
“Good,” he groans, watching as I make a latte, then hand it to him.
He takes a sip and smiles. “That’s the good stuff.”
“I can whip us up some pancakes to go with it,” I offer, making myself a latte.
“Yes, please,” Cas says, leaning against the counter. “Do you want help, or will I just be in the way?”
“It’s nothing but mix and water. You can watch, or you can turn on cartoons, and I’ll bring them to you,” I answer.
“No hard feelings if I pick cartoons?” he asks, tilting his head to study my reaction.
“Of course not. I love cartoons, and this will only take a few minutes.” I laugh, waving him off.
“I should’ve known better. You draw cartoons for a living,” he teases, strutting away before I can rebuttal.
Once the pancakes are finished, I load everything up on a wooden tray Roxy and I use for exactly this reason and deliver breakfast to the living room. He’s watching classics. “Oh, fantastic choice. I love a traditional morning cartoon sesh.”
“It was this or turtles, and to be honest, you aren’t giving off ‘green is my favorite color’ vibes.”
I snort-laugh so hard coffee nearly comes out my nose. “Rude.”
“Well, I don’t see you denying it.” His eyes twinkle full of mischief.
“I have nothing against the green little mutants. I just prefer the broody heroes and sexy villains.” I hand him a fork.
After breakfast, Cas offers to clean up while I put my grocery delivery away. Go figure—they were delivered a smidge too late for a nice breakfast. When we finish, he leans against the countertop with a shit-eating grin and says, “What’s next?”
I shrug my shoulders. I’d love to avoid the awkwardI got my periodconversation, but since he’s probably looking forward to sex, it’s inevitable. The longer it takes for me to answer, the longer the awkward silence stretches between us.
Cas must pick up on my uncomfortable energy. “Did I do something wrong?”
