And when I finally come down all I can think is that I’m completely fucked. In every way.
Because I have no idea how I’ll ever let this woman leave my bed. Let alone my life.
twenty-four
SADIE
Emotions are such weird things. One minute you’re feeling so alone it physically hurts, the next you’re curled up next to the hard body of a man, his arms around you, feeling like you’re untouchable.
Except I have been touched by him. Several times. I bite down a smile, remembering how he carried me to the shower, cleaned me up, and wrapped me in his oversized fluffy robe, before room service brought us a bowl of perfectly boiled, creamy eggs along with toast soldiers, and a steaming pot of tea.
And then of course, I had to show my appreciation. Which, because he’s Zach Fitzgerald, turned intohimshowingmeappreciation. Which meant we were messy and sticky again, and led to round two of getting clean.
“Hey.” Zach turns over in the bed to look at me. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“So are you,” I point out, trying not to smile.
He blinks, like he’s trying to focus on me, then rubs his hands against his eyes. “I was. But then I heard you thinking.”
I laugh, because I wouldn’t put it past him. “Go back to sleep. I’m fine.”
But instead he looks at me again, his eyes on mine this time. “Are you ready to tell me who hurt you?” he asks. “Because I’m not going to let this go.”
“It really doesn’t matter. He’s not that important.”
Zach’s brows raise when I say ‘he’.
“A guy then?”
I let out a breath, knowing that maybe I’ll feel better if I talk about it. And Zach clearly won’t stop until I do. “Yeah. My ex. The guy I lived with after my mom died.”
His jaw tightens. “What did he do?” he asks.
I roll onto my back, putting my hands over my eyes. I don’t want to think about this. Not here, not now. I’ve finally compartmentalized it, and I’m breathing evenly again.
“He’s just a dick. And it’s not your problem.”
Zach peels my hands from my face. “I just spent most of the night inside of you. I think it’s my fucking problem.”
It’s weird how tight that makes my chest feel. And how much I don’t want to admit what an idiot I was.
“Sadie,” he says, his voice gentler. “I just want to know why you were upset. I’m not going to judge. God knows I’ve made some bad decisions in my life.”
“How do you know he was a bad decision?” I ask, even though he so obviously was.
“Because whoever he is, he’s not here with you right now.” He strokes my face. “And his fucking loss is my gain.”
The way he says it, so sweetly, makes my breath catch.
“You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”
“I would never think that,” he tells me solemnly.
I take a deep breath, ignoring the way he reaches out to hold my hand, like he knows I need grounding.
“So I told you how my mom died when I was twenty-one.” The words start tumbling out now that I’ve made my decision. Because if I’m going to tell him this, it’s going to be fast. “I was lost. So lonely. I was in college, but I went home to organize the funeral. To pack up her house. To… I don’t know.” I shake my head. “To say goodbye I guess.”
“How did she die?” he asks gently, pulling me against his warm, hard body like he knows I need an anchor.
