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I flung it open only to see nothing, and truly have cause to worry about my sanity. I contemplated calling Emma back to give me a look over and make sure I hadn’t unwittingly gotten a concussion myself, or didn’t have a brain tumor or aneurism. Being an athlete, I wasn’t the hypochondriacal type on a normal day. We were actually dangerously far the other way around, often insisting we could play with breaks and sprains and all manner of horrific injuries, or even denying we were injured at all, and dealing with the repercussions later. But today had me questioning everything I thought I already knew about myself.
A small sniff made me look down, and there, slumped on the floor just to the side of my door with her back against the wall, was Honey. I quickly stepped out into the hall so that I could crouch down to her level in front of her.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter? What are you doing here?” She was curled into a small ball with her face obscured by her bent knees, which she was gripping tightly with her arms wound around them as she grasped her forearms.
Though I couldn’t see her face, the rapid juddery rise and fall of her shoulders told me she was crying.
“Honey, can you look at me please, so I can see your face? I need to know what’s wrong.” She shook her head vehemently, her shoulders still jerking up and down.
Unable to maintain the crouching position for long—football was a bitch on the knees—I sat on my butt, still facing her, rubbing her back and waiting. I wasn’t sure I was helping matters, though, as, rather than slowing down, her breathing became faster and shallower. She really seemed to be struggling to catch her breath. Asthma? A panic attack? I wasn’t sure.
I did what I could and hoped for the best. “It’s okay, just breathe. Slowly in, slowly out. Slowly in, slowly out.” I repeated the words over and over, demonstrating with my own breathing, and continuing to rub her back in large, rhythmic circles at the same time.
We were there for at least a quarter of an hour before her breathing started to take a slower and more regular pattern. It was at least another five or ten minutes before I was comfortable in suggesting that we move inside the room again, instead of making a spectacle of ourselves in the hallway.
“Hey, Honey,” I coaxed, reaching out to tuck a wayward tendril of hair behind her ear. Although I’d been stroking her back all that time, she flinched away from me again when my fingertips brushed her ear. Sometimes with her, the smallest things could make me feel like the biggest pile of crap. That was definitely one of those times.
When she finally looked up to face me, it was like a body slam to the solar plexus, though if given the choice, I would rather have taken the hit than endure the scene unfolding in front of me. In fact, I would rather have found myself on the bottom of a pile with fifteen two-hundred and fifty pound dudes bearing down on me with rib-crushing force than to have to look at her face once, and see how much she was hurting—knowing that I was a big part of the reason why.
“I can’t...” Her voice was as thin and fragile as a new chick’s. “I tried to go home, but I freaked...”
“Shhh... don’t try to talk now. Come.” I got up into a crouching position again, then scooped Honey into my arms, and stood up, all in one movement.
“Bear...”
“Shhh...” I stepped back over the threshold and into my room. “I changed my sheets before, in case you wanted to sleep. You’re overwhelmed and overtired, and probably still in shock. You need rest. You take the bed, and I’ll have the couch. Things will seem different after you’ve slept.”
“No.”
“I’m not moving on this, Honey Bee. No funny business, I promise. I’ll be out here on the couch if you need me, but I’m not backing down.” I strode quickly and purposefully to the bedroom, and once at the bed, began lowering her down gently.
“No.”
“I said this is non-negotiable and I meant it. You can give me as much shit about it as you like in the morning, but right now, you need to do as you’re told.”
“I don’t want to be alone to night.” What? “Stay with me, please? I just need you to hold me.”
Chapter 34
Honey
To give him credit where credit was due, Bear didn’t hesitate a moment or question me further. He simply did as I asked, climbing onto the bed with me and sliding behind me with the front of his body pushed into the back of mine, so that we were effectively spooning.
Next, he curled his tree-trunk-like arms around me—one over, one under, and pulled me even closer to him. I was instantly comforted by the weight of his arm across my body, the feel of his breath on my neck as he nuzzled against me, and the faint but distinctive scent of his heady and masculine cologne. I managed to reach out for the comforter and pull it over us, which had us both instantly melting under its warmth and softness.
When I woke up what seemed like a lot later, I was alone, and the light smuggling its way through the tiny crack in the blinds was bright, whereas when we’d climbed into bed, it had been before dawn.
I wasn’t sure what had woken me—the light outside or the delicious aroma of bacon cooking—but at that point, the smell served as a reminder that I needed food. I’d barely eaten at the reception the night before, and I was now pretty fucking hungry. My stomach growled its agreement as I padded across the bedroom to investigate further.
Instead of going straight into the living area, I hung back a little and watched the scene unfolding from my vantage point in the doorway.
Bear was bustling around the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of well-fitting grey sweats. I marveled at his perfect body, as I watched his muscles ripple while he moved. He was like an anatomical model, rather than a real-life flesh-and-blood man. I had to admit that whatever I thought about him, morally and ethically, there was no denying that physically he was everything I hadn’t known I’d wanted in a man, until it was right in front of me. I’d never encountered a man who did it for me the way he did.
“Like what you see here, Honey Bee?” Busted.
His voice startled me out of my reverie, and embarrassed the hell out of me. He spun on his heel to face me, and whereas before I’d been ogling and practically drooling over the rippling muscles of his back as he moved around the kitchen while he cooked, I was now treated to a full view of his powerhouse of a chest.
His nipple piercing glinted in the morning light and sent shockwaves of arousal tearing through my body. Holy. Fucking. Shit. My cheeks heated, and it wasn’t only because I’d been sprung perving on him.
