Page 22 of Golden Ruin

“Yeah, but–”

“Lex.”

I glance up at his reflection just as his stare lands on me. Neither of us moves or says a word as something heavy lingers in the room, hanging in the air like a cloud.

“When I asked you to stay here, it wasn’t just about Jax,” he admits, and I’m not sure what to do with that. “I wanted you here so I can help. So I can shoulder some of what you’ll have to carry while you heal. The last thing you need is to worry about finding rides to see your doctor. I’m taking you.”

There’s a finality to that statement that isn’t lost on me. And honestly? Neither is the rest of what he stated. It’s in my nature to be contrary and buck against authority, but for some reason, I find myself leaning into him taking control this time. Maybe because I’m emotionally exhausted. So, I nod, leaning into the softness buried underneath his stern tone.

He only wants to help.

He focuses on my hair again, and we’re silent. The only sound that fills the room is the scissors hard at work. I’ve lost about eight inches of length, taking it from well below my elbow to about the middle of my chest. He sets the scissors down, and I don’t blink as I take in what he’s done. Everything’s even, and he managed to cut away all the char.

“Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.”

He smiles at the slight compliment. “Told you.”

He runs his hand through it again, simply admiring his work, but I’m aware of everything. The heat of his fingers, how he twirls a few strands without realizing it, how comfortable he seems to feel touching me while I’m anything but comfortable.

“Thanks,” I blurt out, quickly gathering my comb and brush. “Have a broom and dustpan in here? I’ll clean up before I go shower.”

There’s a moment where he’s completely silent as I stand, hesitant half a second before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. He blinks, forces his eyes to the floor, then finally speaks.

“I can uh… I can get it up.”

I would normally protest, insisting that I clean the mess myself, but I need space.

“Right. Thank you.”

I turn to leave, feeling my pulse thrumming in the hollow of my throat, but he calls my name, and my feet stop on a dime.

“Lex.”

I don’t turn. I need to go.

“Yeah?”

I hate that my voice sounds so uncertain, so small.

“Use my tub,” he says. “It’ll make it easier to keep your arm dry. I can sit with Jax while you relax.”

He’s doing it again. Being too accommodating, too nice. But maybe it’s because he senses that I need a little bit of that right now, and he knows I’m too stubborn to say that. My head’s saying one thing, and my heart’s saying another, but I ignore my head for now and choose my heart. Choose to lean into the softness he’s offering without overstating it.

“I’ll grab my things. Thank you.”

I glance over my shoulder at him, and the warmth in his eyes is unexpected when he nods. “No problem.”

As I leave his room to gather what I’ll need for my bath, I hear him already starting to fill the tub.

It seems that, while I’ve been busy trying to figure out how to take care of me and Jax in this new and uncertain era we’ve just entered, Sterling’s already decided to fill that role himself.

There was a time when depending on him felt as natural as breathing, but that time has come and gone. Which explains why now, with so many years gone by, with so much life having happened to us both, I can’t deny there’s another word that comes to mind when I think of leaning on him.

Even temporarily.

And that word…. is dangerous.

CHAPTER SEVEN