Page 32 of The Devil’s Feather

He breathed hard, as though he’d just come in from a run, and swiped his hands across his eyes. Fuck, was this a flashback? I readied myself to get away.

“I…I slept through the night.” Rafael looked at me, disbelief stamped across his face. “Did I wake you at all?”

“Not once, and I’m a pretty light sleeper.”

“No crying out or thrashing?” The sun from a high window I hadn’t noticed hit his eyes, sparking them into blue-white flame, and painted streaks of fire in his dark red hair.

“As far as I can tell, you slept quietly in that same position pretty much all night. If you’ll excuse me.” I grimaced and clambered off the bed to skip to the bathroom. He stared after me.

When I emerged, drying my hands, he was still staring.

“Rafael, what is going on?” I sat on the edge of the bed.

He crawled over and laid his head in my lap. “I never sleep completely through the night with someone else in the bed. Rarely even do it alone.” His breath tickled my thigh. “Elaine, please stay with me. Please. You are what I have been searching for all these years. This may sound absurd, but no one has ever made me feel safe enough to sleep like that. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Oh, my heart! Also, damn, that morning voice! “It doesn’t sound absurd at all. You weren’t always so big and strong.”

Rafael squeezed his eyes shut. “You did not walk out when I spoke of my childhood. You did not ridicule me for my dating history or abandon me when you learned of my limitations. You did not vilify me for defending myself. You touch my scars with reverence and understanding rather than disgust. Even my request for pain, you met with acceptance. I need you here with me.”

“You beautiful man.” I stroked his hair. “I’ll stay as long as I can, but I don’t want to commute over an hour to work⁠1. It’s all the way down in San Jose.”

He rolled over to look up at me. “Do you love your job? No? Then quit. I will buy you anything you need, and you will not have to pay rent or bills.”

“I have student loans.”

“I will pay those, too.”

“Rafael, I can’t. This is too fast. I really like you—I’m falling in love with you—but I need to catch my breath. You’re the kind of personality that could swallow a girl whole, and I want to stay my own person. You know, the person you enjoy so much. Does that make sense?”

He closed his eyes. Perhaps so I wouldn’t see his hurt. “Yes.”

Unease prickled up my back. “Do the people you date tend to fall hard and fast for you? I’m trying to understand, since you said you’re not a casual person, but it seems like you’ve had a decently large amount of partners.”

“They do, yes.” He traced circles on my leg. “The bulk were ill-considered, casual affairs many years ago. As I have said, they like the idea of me, but not the ugly reality. Or I discover they are not who they pretended to be.”

“I’m not running away, I promise. You were the one who said you wanted to move slowly. Now it’s my turn for boundaries. I want us to spend more time together before we take the next step. I need to understand what I’m getting into, and I don’t want to be dependent on you. What if things don’t work out and we break up? Then I’m out of a lease and a job and all my income.”

His eyes snapped open. “I would not do that to you. You want your writing to become your main income, yes? I can help. I know many people who can open doors for you.”

My heart leaped into my throat. “That’s…wow, that’s very kind of you, but I kinda want to get there on my own merit.”

Rafael snorted and sat up. “Elaine, how do you think any of the arts and entertainment industries work? Networking and luck. You can work your ass off your entire life, be the greatest genius in the world, and never get a break. What is the difference between my introducing you to some contacts and someone discovering you organically, when it was your book that brought us together in the first place?”

The vehemence surprised me. “I suppose if you’d said what I just did to Travis DeWitt, that would have been pretty silly.”

His eyes blazed. “Fucking stupid. It is the very height of privilege to turn down a legitimate opportunity out of some bullshit bootstrap mentality. Pointless suffering will not make your writing more valid.”

I shrank away from him. Here’s that temper he warned me about.

Rafael’s voice grew louder. “I was homeless, Elaine. Raiding dumpsters at night and regularly getting my ass beaten. If I believed in God, I would say it was a divine miracle I did not end up bleeding out in a gutter or dead from a heroin overdose like almost everyone else I knew. From one literal starving artist to another, take the fucking leg up.”

I burrowed further and further into the covers with each sentence he pounded into my skull. Big, angry men were scary when they got worked up. Especially in my direction. Rafael stilled when saw how far I’d scooted away.

He tilted his head back and blew out a breath. “I apologize. I did not mean to raise my voice. Too many complicated feelings at once.” He climbed out of bed. “Coffee may not be enough to atone, but would it please you?”

“Coffee can atone for a lot of sins,” I whispered from my blanket fort, heart racing.

At least he looked contrite. “Come to the kitchen when you are ready. No need to rush.”