Page 104 of Wait for Him

“Hey. Hey, come here.”

She catches my wrist before I can wipe my face again and pulls me down beside her. I don't even have enough fight in me to argue. She turns us onto our sides and tucks my head against her chest, one arm wrapping around my shoulders while her other hand slips into my hair and starts moving slowly over my scalp.

“You're okay,” she murmurs. “You did so fucking good for me. Exactly what I needed.”

“I hurt you.”

“You didn't, Jackson. I promise.”

“I can see the marks.”

“I know.” She doesn't tell me they're not there or try to make me feel crazy for seeing them. Her fingers just keep moving through my hair while another shiver works through me, and she pulls me tighter against her. “I know they're there, and I'm okay. I wanted everything you gave me.”

My eyes close, and that was a mistake because the tears come faster.

I fucking hate this.

I hate the shaking and the cold and the fact that I know she's talking to me, but some part of my brain is still screaming that I did something wrong. I hate that ten minutes ago I felt completely in control of my own body and now I can't even convince my hands to stop trembling.

“It's just a drop, baby,” she says, pressing her lips against my forehead. “You'll feel better in a little while. Don't fight it.”

“I fucking hate this.”

“I know you do.” There's something almost tenderly amused in her voice. Of all the possible people to lose control of my own fucking nervous system in front of, naturally it had to be the woman who knows exactly how much I'd rather wrestle a bear. “So, we're not going to do anything for a few minutes. We're going to lie right here until your hands stop shaking, then we'll drink some water and take a shower. That's the entire agenda.”

A wet laugh catches somewhere in my throat.

“Bossy.”

“Extremely. Now breathe for me.”

I try, but the first breath catches halfway down and my chest tightens around it. Rose doesn't tell me to calm down or make me try harder. She just takes a long, slow breath beneath me, her chest expanding against my cheek until I can feel the rhythm of it, then lets it out just as slowly.

I follow her on the next one. It's uneven and my lungs still feel too tight, but I get most of it in before letting it go.

“That's it,” she whispers, her fingers still moving through my hair. “Again.”

So I breathe with her.

My face stays pressed against the warmth of her chest, her heartbeat steady beneath my ear while I follow it one breath at a time. The cold doesn't disappear all at once and neither does the sick feeling in my stomach, but after a while my lungs stop fighting me. The trembling in my hands eases from something I can see to something I can only feel, and the roaring in my ears slowly gives way to Rose's heartbeat and the soft drag of her fingers through my hair.

At some point, I stop trying to fix anything.

I just let her hold me.

And somewhere between one breath and the next, sleep takes me under.

***

I don't know how long I was out, but at least I feel like myself when I wake up. I stretch my limbs and reach for Rose beside me, but the bed is empty.

“I'm right here.”

She crosses the room wearing my shirt and climbs back into bed with a bottle of water. “Sit up and drink this for me. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” My voice comes out like I've been gargling gravel. My throat is so fucking dry.

I sit up against the headboard and drain the bottle in a few gulps before setting it on the nightstand. Rose settles beside me, close enough that our legs touch, and for a while neither of us says anything.