Sleep.
Seriously.
SLEEP!
The mattress behind her shifted.
“You’re going to fall off the bed, little bird.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He made a good point. She was practically hanging over the edge.
“You’re safe with me,” he said, even though those weren’t words she needed to hear because somehow, instinctually, she knew that.
She scooted away from the edge of the mattress, flopping onto her back in utter frustration.
Grayson chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nope. I’m tired but wired.”
“Same,” Grayson said. “Too much caffeine and sugar from the soda.”
“Too much everything,” she whispered, the honest answer escaping before she could stop it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“That guy really shook you up earlier.”
Her throat tightened. Even now, hours later, she could still feel his fingers locked around her wrist.
“I’m okay,” she lied.
“Didn’t say you weren’t, but being okay afterward doesn’t mean it wasn’t a scary situation. No man has the right to put his hands on you like that.” There was a menacing growl in Grayson’s tone that should have frightened her, but it didn’t.
It did something worse.
It turned her on.
“I think I forgot to say thank you,” she murmured.
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I wasn’t gonna let some drunk asshole manhandle you.”
Her chest squeezed tightly. She’d spent so many years hiding behind her walls that she rarely considered not all men were the boogie monster.
“You know, you don’t have to pretend with me, don’t have to downplay the fact he scared you.”
Her breath caught. Pretending was all she ever did. And she didn’t mean this weekend.
Ever since she was nine, she’d been pretending she was fine, that she wasn’t afraid, that she was happy, that she wasn’t terribly lonely—and she was sick of it.
Tears burned behind her eyes. She turned her face away from him, suddenly sorry she’d insisted on leaving the bathroom light on.
“I’m not pretending,” she whispered.
Grayson was quiet for a long moment before he responded. “Okay. Try to get some sleep, little bird. Tomorrow is going to be another long day.”
The tenderness in his voice wrapped around her like a second blanket. Wren curled tighter beneath the covers.
Sleep came in fragments after that, as she drifted in and out of shallow dreams, never fully settling. Every time she started to sink into a deep sleep, awareness tugged her back again.
