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"Maybe we can just sit in the living room or something," I offer when he just continues to watch me without speaking.
He sits up when I do, but instead of standing, he continues to occupy the space in front of the closet door.
"I don't really want to interact with anyone, but I think it would be a good step to get used to being around other people again," I continue.
"Want to go have breakfast with everyone?" he asks after a long moment of silence.
I quickly shake my head.
"You'll let me know when you're ready?"
"I will," I agree, wondering why he doesn't stand up, take my hand, and force me out of the room.
We go through the same routine we have for days. He heads into the bathroom, but before he does, he once again asks permission to reach over my head and grab some clothes.
I keep my eyes locked on my lap. It feels like a violation to look up at his muscled stomach like I have so many times before. I wouldn't want him looking up my shirt if the roles were reversed.
He tells me he'll be back in like half an hour before leaving the room for breakfast. Lunch is the only meal we share together, and I sort of envy the time he spends outside of the room, even though I know I can leave any time I want.
I quickly stand once he's gone and lock the bedroom door, rushing to the bathroom to wash my hands. The soap and warm water do nothing to make the tingle from his touch disappear.
By the time I'm done going to the bathroom, brushing my hair, washing my face, and managing more than a nest of my hair, I've almost convinced myself that he has no effect on me at all.
It takes all day and almost into the evening before I gather enough courage to ask him if he's ready to leave the room with me. It's dark outside before we leave the room.
I ignore that urge to turn back around and run into the closet.
"We don't have to do this," Beck says before we get to the mouth of the hallway leading into the living room. "We can try another day."
I almost take him up on it, but I know that would make me a coward. I hate that Nathan's voice is both my punishment and the one I hear when I know I need to be brave. I don't think there will ever come a time in my life that I'll be rid of him completely.
Chapter 15
Newton
If Brielle wanted to ease into being around people, she chose the very wrong time to gain enough courage to leave the room.
She spent the day nervous. I can't count how many times while we were watching television that she shifted in the closet. I even got up and moved the armchair in case she wanted to sit in it rather than behind me where she has spent the last week. She only came out of there twice to go to the restroom.
Evenings at the clubhouse house are always a little hectic. The people who aren't Cerberus are coming in from work. Many of the women are involved in community events, meaning they have Cerberus members along with them. Some have shops here at the clubhouse but have to leave regularly to get supplies. Devyn often makes deliveries for people in the community who have placed sewing orders with her.
I know that Oracle and Beth went for a bike ride earlier today. I know I called it an ambush this morning when discussing it with Brielle, but this is really the only way I can see them getting the chance to talk. Throughout the day I've considered it more of an “oh, you're here and I'm here, let's talk” situation.
There isn't anyone in the living room yet, but Brielle hurries past the door into the kitchen. There's a huge open window on one wall of the kitchen that allows platters of food to be passed through easily when there's any sort of gathering here. I can feel several pairs of eyes follow us as we pass it. No one slinks into the kitchen to talk to us, and that isn't even a conversation I had to have with my teammates. They're all well aware of the way she's struggling, and they have enough training to know that doing too much too soon could set her back.
"Any spot you'd like," I tell her when we step closer to the grouping of sofas on the front wall of the clubhouse.
Unsurprisingly, she takes the seat in the corner, eyeing the spot next to her.
"May I sit beside you?" I ask rather than just assuming that's what she wants.
"Please," she says, a certain level of desperation in her voice.
I don't sit close enough for our thighs to touch, but I'm definitely in a position to be the first line of defense if anyone tries to approach us.
I pull in a deep breath, letting my chest puff up a little that she sees me as a protector, despite knowing there's no one here that would dream of ever hurting her.
The front door opens several times. First, it's Drake coming in with Boomer. They each nod in our direction, hands locked together, before they disappear into the kitchen.
