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Smelling him all around me in the safety of his arms lulls me back to sleep each time I wake to the sound of something loud outside.
I’ve never felt safer in a storm than I do with Seven.
Not even with Daniel.
The realization sends a small sense of panic through me but it was only one night. There’s no way I can tell that from only one night.
When Daniel told me that I was going to be okay in the deep darkness of that basement in Oklahoma, I wanted to believe him, but I knew he was just as vulnerable and helpless as I was. But when Seven said it last night… I almost immediately believed that Seven could hold back a storm with his bare hands. That he would stop the winds from tearing the house apart and that he’d shield me if the roof came down around us.
How could a stranger who wants me out of his life make me feel safer than the man who loves me?
I groan awake, wishing to stay asleep a little longer but the storm winds aren’t near as loud as they used to be and my curiosity to find out if the worst of the storm is over has my eyes fluttering awake.
The moment my eyes open, I notice where I am.
In my room.
There’s no more masculine smell of the man who stayed up all night, keeping my panic attack at bay, besides the lingering smell of him on my skin and clothes.
Disappointment sets in first, and then a sense of embarrassment when I realize that not only did Seven probably not sleep a wink in order to coddle a grown woman out of her fear of storms, but he moved her back into her own bed the moment he got the chance.
When will I ever stop humiliating myself in front of this man?
The answer is unclear.
I rub my hand over my face and brush away the sleep crusties from the corners of my eyes.
I hear the phone that’s lying next to me on the nightstand begin to ding wildly. I must have gotten reception just now, and texts are flooding in.
I reach for my phone when I realize that it’s no longer plugged in to the battery bank that was here last night. I open Sheridan’s text first, though the excitement of seeing Daniel’s text is almost too tempting not to check first.
Sheridan: You’re staying with Seven Wrenley? Please tell me he’s as gorgeous in real life as he is on the television screen.
Sheridan: I’m glad to hear that the storm will pass soon. I’m sorry you’re having such a crappy time, but maybe you can use this inspiration for the book.
I tap to reply and start typing out a text to her.
Brynn: Well, I’ll tell you this… he’s just as grumpy in person as he seems to be on the television screen. He’s not faking that “give-no-fucks” attitude. It’s 100% authentic.
Sheridan: Tell me more. As a completely uninterested married party who can only live vicariously through you, I need to know the details.
Sheridan: How did you hold up last night? I was worried about you. Did you get any sleep?
Brynn: I ended up having a panic attack. Which is really disappointing since I haven’t had one in years. Seven heard me in the other room and carried me into bed with him. I think he thought I was going into shock. I’m mortified!
I still can’t believe that happened last night.
He probably thinks I’m a total nut job, and I can’t exactly blame him.
Sheridan: You slept with Seven last night?! Are you kidding? You need to use this in your story. This is gold!!!
It doesn’t feel like gold.
It feels like a mistake.
This whole plan to come out here and face my fears feels like a mistake.
For just a moment last night, making dinner in the kitchen together, it felt like we found common ground, but then I went and made things even more awkward than ever.
