Page 25 of The Image of You

I held her closer. “Good.”

“I should go, but I don’t want to,” she murmured.

I frowned. “Are you all right to drive?”

She tilted her head. “I’m fine, but if I stay much longer, I won’t be.”

“Just for a little while.”

She agreed easily, curling tighter to my chest. I enjoyed the simple pleasure of having her in my arms.

I felt it when she fell asleep, the way her body relaxed, her breathing evening out. I looked down at her, pleased at the trust she showed me. I frowned, thinking of her story and what she had lived through. The callous treatment from the two adults she called parents. They didn’t deserve that title. I planned on being the person who helped her break from the chains they had her in.

Carefully, I stood and went over to the bed, lying down, taking her with me. She barely moved, instead burrowing closer, the way she had the night before. I drew a blanket around us.

I would just hold her for a while.

CHAPTER FIVE

When I opened my eyes again, the early morning light was flooding the loft and Ally was gone, her scent still lingering on the pillow. On the counter was a note on pink paper she had left me. It had her number and a brief message.

You snore.

And I love the way you hold me.

Your Ally

My Ally. I liked that.

I stayed busy, and I called her mid-morning. She sounded pleased to hear from me and laughed when I told her we were going shopping.

“Shopping?” she repeated.

“I’ll text you the address. Meet me in an hour.”

“All right,” she agreed.

I grabbed a cab and met her outside the store. She got out of her car. Her hair was pulled into a thick braid, and she was sexy as hell in her leggings and long-sleeved shirt. She’d been on my mind since she’d left earlier. I wanted to push her against the side of her car and fuck her. My cock was in full agreement. Instead, I pressed a long kiss to her full mouth, trailing my tongue along her bottom lip.

“Mmm. Cherry.”

She reached up, wiping my mouth. “It suits you.”

I pulled her in for a hug, needing to feel her close. “You suit me.”

“How’s your head?”

“It feels pretty good. Not dizzy, no headache.” I ran my fingers over the bandage. “It hurts to touch it, though.”

“Stop touching it, then.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Can I look?”

“Sure.”

She was careful as she peeled back the bandage, pursing her lips as she inspected the wound. I felt her featherlight touch, then the bandage being resecured. “It looks good. It’ll hurt for a few days, but it’s healing well.”