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“I’ll never find anything about you disgusting or gross. I don’t care what it is.”
She bites her lip and nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“I can’t change what someone else has told you,” I say, running my hands up her thighs. “But I hope my actions can show you just how not gross I find you. The exact opposite, in fact.”
And before she can protest, I help her into the tub and spend the next half hour thoroughly washing every inch of her.
“Thank you,” she breathes, as I help settle her into bed. I cover her with some of the heavier nesting blankets and she pats the empty space next to her.
“Will you stay?” she asks softly, her face still flushed pink from the bath.
“Of course,” I reply. “Nothing would make me happier. Just one second.” I kiss her forehead and head back into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash up.
By the time I’m out, Skylar is passed out on the bed, her mouth slightly parted.
I crawl in behind her, covering us with plush blankets, and pull her to me. Her back is flush against my chest as I wrap my arms around her, cocooning her in my warmth.
Tomorrow is not going to be easy for her.
She’ll be forced to relive her nightmare and be pressured to remember every minute detail.
I pull her closer and press a kiss to the side of her throat. She hums in her sleep, and her scent fills the room.
At least she’s content at this moment.
Words threaten to spill from my mouth.
I’ve never been this sappy or this emotional for anyone—but with Skylar, all I want to do is confess my feelings to her.
To tell her how much she means to me. How I felt like my heart was ripped in two every day I was away from her.
How I’m in love with her.
But she’s so fragile now. I’m afraid it may be too much for her. The last thing I want to do is overwhelm her—I just want to be there for her.
And if I have to keep my feelings a secret, so be it.
I close my eyes and her scent washes over me as I hold her close.
24
SKYLAR
I think about asking Landon to turn around at least four different times on our way to the police station.
My hands won’t stop shaking in my lap, and he frowns when he notices.
“If I can do anything for you at all, let me know,” he says gently. I nod, biting my lip to keep from screaming.
I don’t want to do this.
I don’t even want to think about what happened in Slatten.
I’m still shaking by the time Landon opens the passenger door for me and helps me out of the car.
River is waiting outside the building, his hands in his pockets. He’s dressed in a black leather jacket and dark jeans, with a black hoodie on underneath the jacket. His hair is wild, and his dark scruff is thicker than the last time I saw him.
He’s the exact opposite of Landon, who stands next to me in his usual white button up with the sleeves rolled up.
