Page 36 of Protected from Torment

She doesn’t reply right away. Instead, she just stands there, looking small and uncertain. “Um.”

“What is it? Anything you need⁠—”

“Well.” Melissa flicks a quick glance at the TV on the dresser across from the bed. “Would you want to maybe watch a show first?”

“A show?”

“Yeah.” She tugs at her hair, pulling one of the dark curls straight. Then she winds the curl around her finger before releasing it. “I’m just not sure I feel like sleeping. But if you have other work to do...”

“In here?” I look around the room, as if a couch is going to miraculously appear. But no, it’s just the bed. A large one, albeit, but there’s no other seating in here. So if I stay to watch TV, we’d have to sit together. On Melissa’s bed.

Resignation shadows her gaze. “If you have work to do,” she adds, “it’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked.”

My heart gives another tremendous wrench.

I don’t want her to feel resigned to being alone.

She has her dog, that annoying voice in my head whispers. And it’s not like she’ll be alone. You’ll be in the other room with Webb, Indy, and Levi. Talking about her case, which is the reason you’re here.

Both things are true. But it doesn’t change how I feel.

Before I can second-guess myself, I sink onto the edge of the bed and begin to take off my shoes. Thankfully, I’m wearing long pants and socks, so it won’t matter if my shoe is off. Not that I’m trying to keep my prosthetic a secret from Melissa, it’s just…

My prosthetic changes things. And right now, I don’t want it to.

“Just one show,” I tell her. “Since it’s not good for you to watch⁠—”

“I know,” she interjects. “Not too much screen time with my concussion.” Kicking off her shoes, Melissa scoots over on the bed so she’s next to Oscar. She fluffs the pillows and props them against the headboard. “Is this okay?”

I take the spot beside her, stretching out my legs and leaning back against the pillows. “It’s okay.”

She grabs the remote off the nightstand. “What do you want to watch?”

“Parks and Rec,” I answer immediately, because that’s the show that makes her smile the most.

Melissa smiles at me. “Okay.” She flicks on the TV and finds the app with the Parks and Rec episodes. But before she puts one on, she looks at me and asks, “Are you sure this is okay, Tyler? If you’re uncomfortable… I didn’t think, but this isn’t really part of your job description.”

I take a second to think. Am I uncomfortable? This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with a woman since Kaia. No, it’s not the same as sleeping together. But it brings an intimacy I haven’t wanted since her.

But then I think about leaving the bedroom. Leaving Melissa alone. And the thought of it doesn’t feel right. At all.

So I take her hand and give it a little squeeze. “No. I’m not uncomfortable. Are you?”

Her forehead scrunches the way it always does when she’s thinking. Then she shakes her head. “Actually, no.” Pink touches her cheeks. “I’m glad you’re here.”

My heart twists again as I lace my fingers between hers. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

CHAPTER 7

MELISSA

Judging from the somber look on Tyler’s face, I have a feeling I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.

His brows are drawn down, forming fine lines between them. His mouth is pinched into an unhappy line. He’s not leaning easily against the doorframe, like he usually does when he comes to check on me. Instead, he’s standing stiffly in the middle of the bedroom doorway, his shoulders tense and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Melissa,” he starts, and his solemn tone sends my stomach swooping down to my feet.

Not just that, but his use of my full name, which he’s taken to using less and less over the last few days. When we first met in Long Lake, he called me Melissa. In the hospital, it occasionally shifted to Mel. And during the two days he’s been at my house, that’s what he calls me almost exclusively. So the return to my full name doesn’t bode well.