Page 137 of The Image of You

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” She blushed. “I’ve never slapped anyone before. I don’t think I did it right.”

“You can try it again if you want—as long as it’s Bradley you slap.” I kissed her palm. “Although I don’t want you to hurt yourself. So, if you feel the need, tell me, and I’ll do it for you.”

She giggled, the sound making me happy. I was glad the storm had passed—at least for now. I knew there was a chance I’d witness more outbursts as she dealt with everything she’d been through.

She looked at my hand again. “You need an ice pack.” She climbed off me and headed to the kitchen, stopping at the counter.

“Oh no,” she breathed out. “I made a huge mess.”

I joined her, nodding at the disastrous state the kitchen was currently in. I shoved my feet into my sneakers and picked my way through the glass and broken ceramic to grab the ice pack. “I got past the blood thing, but I still don’t want you spilling yours, thank you.” I handed the ice pack to her, and we lay on the bed. She wrapped the ice around my throbbing hand.

“It doesn’t bother you anymore—the blood, I mean?”

I shrugged. “It was always seeing my own that was the worst, and with everything I did to help at the clinic, it doesn’t faze me anymore.” I tweaked her nose. “But stay out of the kitchen without shoes until we clean it up.”

“Will you take me to meet Peter and Edwina one day?”

I smiled. “You’d like that?”

“Yes. I want to meet them and see the clinic that bears Elena’s name.”

“I’d like them to meet you as well. I talked Edwina’s ear off about you.” I chuckled. “Peter’s too, I suppose. On the next trip. This one is all about us.”

“Okay.”

The ice felt good. Relaxing together also felt good. We were quiet for a while as the ice soothed my hand and the silence soothed Ally. I felt her relax more and more as I held her. She snuggled into my embrace, flattening herself against me. I held her as tight as I could.

She yawned, and a shiver of exhaustion went through her. I traced my finger under her weary eyes. “Can you sleep now, Nightingale?”

“If you keep holding me.”

“Always.”

* * *

Before my eyes had opened, I knew. She wasn’t in bed with me. She wasn’t even in the loft. I was out of bed in an instant, searching for my pants. I couldn’t explain my panic, but I needed to know where she was. I dragged on a shirt and bent down to grab my sneakers, stopping only when I saw the piece of pink paper sticking out of one of them.

Relax, Adam. Giving the coffee shop some business. I’ll be back before you know it.

Keep the bed warm for me.

I love you. xx

I quirked my eyebrow and grinned.

She was on a coffee run, and she had left me a task.

I stood and looked over at the kitchen. Ally had obviously been busy while I slept. The floor was swept, a pile of glittering glass in the corner. She had wiped down the wall as well, although it was going to need some scrubbing. Little pieces of cereal were stuck in places, and some chip crumbs were scattered around. I traced some of the new scratches and nicks in the wall, remembering her breakdown last night. I hoped today would be a better day for her. For us.

I glanced behind me at the bed.

She wanted it warm when she got home.

I could do that.

A short time later, the door opened quietly, the telltale squeak of the bottom hinge giving away Ally’s attempted stealth. I remained on my back, keeping my breathing steady as she approached the bed. She placed something on the table, then the mattress dipped as she settled beside me. She ran her fingers through my hair, light, gentle passes reminding me so much of the first time we met.

“Adam,” she murmured. “Wake up for me.”