Page 66 of When The Mountains Held Us

Sleep is calling my name, and I place the bottle on the nightstand before peeling back the covers and climbing under. I let my body relax into the mattress, adjusting slightly so as not to put pressure on my injured hip, and sigh as I get comfortable and feel the weight of my long day fade away.

The mattress dips behind me, and I’m pulled back against a hard chest. I tense for a moment, surprised that he’s here with me, my mind alert and wondering what this means. He must sense my apprehension, because his soothing voice washes over me a moment later.

“Is this okay?”

I relax a little, accepting this small comfort he’s offering, and nod my head against the pillow. “Yeah.”

“I won’t stay the whole night,” he promises, like he knows my mind is spinning, and he doesn’t want to pressure me into anything I don’t want to do. “Just until you fall asleep.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I joke. “I’m exhausted and will probably be asleep in the next five minutes.”

He chuckles and pulls me tighter against him. “Sleep, Oakley. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

I relax further into his warmth, relishing the feel of him behind me, and for the first time in a long time, I believe the words a man spoke to me.

Maybe this is what healing feels like.

I never thought I’d find it in the arms of a man like Levi.

Thirty-Four

Oakley

Idon’t know what time it is when I wake up, but if the sun sitting high in the sky and shining like a beacon through my window is any indication, it’s late.

I roll over, stretching with a wince at the dull throb in my hip from the night before. I sit up and pry my eyes open. The sun is even brighter than I anticipated, and I immediately snap my eyes shut and throw my hands over my face until I can adjust.

The smell of coffee and eggs wafts through my open door, and my stomach growls loudly in protest. Taking that as my cue to get my ass out of bed, I stand. Taking a tentative step forward, I’m surprised to find none of the expected pain in my hip. I mean, it’s a bit tender, and no doubt sporting a nasty purple bruise, but it doesn’t hurt much when I walk. I tug at my sleep clothes as I move towards the door. I’m absolutely swimming in Levi’s clothes. I straighten them before making my way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Levi is standing at the stove, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. They hang low on his hips, and I take a minute to appreciate the lines of muscle in his back and across his broad shoulders.

He is breathtaking.

Flashes from last night float back to me, and, as if on cue, my hip throbs in response as I round the kitchen island.

And then there’s the reminder of what happened after my mishap in the shower. The heated tension coiling between us like the steam from the hot bath, curling around us and enveloping us in a bubble of longing and desire. It had taken everything in me not to throw myself at him last night and beg for him to do what we’ve both been anticipating for a while now. I could see it in his eyes too, could feel the restraint holding him back even as his eyes screamed that he’d rather throw caution to the wind and finally give in to the tension between us.

Then there was the way he wrapped his large hand around the front of my neck, not squeezing, but simply holding me in that one possessive motion that had me like putty in his hands. I would have done pretty much anything he asked of me in that moment, no matter how depraved. And then the press of his lips against my forehead? So gentle and contrary to the dominating way in which he held my throat. The juxtaposition of the two has my breath catching in my throat and a pretty pink blush staining my cheeks even now.

I’m pulled from my daydream when Levi turns, a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. He grins at me brightly, setting the breakfast down on the kitchen island and motioning for me to sit.

“Good morning,” he says as he loads a second plate up with food and takes his usual seat across from me.

“Morning.” I lift the mug to my lips and swallow down a mouthful of the maple coffee. It’s quickly become a favorite of mine, and, lucky for me, it seems like this house is always stocked up.

“How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in weeks, honestly.” I stab a bit of egg with my fork, the clinking of Levi’s utensils telling me he’s started digging in as well.

“Good, I’m glad. I did too.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes, and I debate whether or not I should bring up last night. It’s comfortable this morning, but the light of day makes me question whether or not it would be considered polite mealtime discussion, at least the parts of the night I want to bring up. I decide against it. There will be plenty of time to talk and work through things later.

Bandit nudges my hand in greeting, and I pat his head, breaking off a small piece of bacon and handing it to him.

“I saw that.”

I shrug. “Wasn’t trying to hide it. You’re too hard on him. Look at that face.” I peer down at the dog in adoration, his answering canine smile nothing short of undying love as he stares back at me, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Or maybe it’s not undying love for me but for the bacon he knows I can give him. Either way, I’ll take it.