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I turn toward him. He’s seated on the other end of the couch. The TV is on, though he’s muted the sound to whatever sitcom is running at this hour. His expression is worried, but he keeps both hands firmly planted on his lap—away from me. All because he knows I don’t like being touched.

But that wasn’t always the case, was it?

I dated before. I’ve never gone to bed with a man, but I know what those casual touches feel like. The caress of my cheek, kind hands brushing over my hair. There was comfort in those little moments, butterflies that danced at the possibilities.

But even then, what I felt pales compared to what I feel for this man. What I’ve felt since the moment he invited me into his bar. And suddenly, it’s closeness that I need. Physical security that can only be given by one man.

I scooch a little closer.

Maverick remains where he is, though his widening gaze makes me think he knows what I’m trying to do.

A little closer.

That fear never comes, so I move all the way until I’m right up against him. Maverick watches me, but aside from raising his arm and laying it over the back of the couch, he doesn’t make a single move to pull me in closer.

He lets me set the pace, and for that, I am so very grateful.

I curl against his side, drawing my knees up to my chest as I lean into him. The contact is warm, his hard body a comfort to me in this moment. Just knowing that I’m not alone—that I’m with a man who would run outside into a dark parking lot to chase down my abductor—brings me a heavy dose of calm.

I will forever be grateful to the Lord for guiding me to this man. Even if, when this is all over, I go home and don’t hear from him again.

At the thought of that, my stomach sinks. Is that really what’s going to happen? Will we truly become strangers again once I’m able to go home?

“Are you okay?” As he speaks, his chest vibrates beneath my ear, and I draw in closer.

“I will be, thank you, Maverick.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Get some sleep. You’re safe.” He gently lifts his arm from the back of the couch and wraps it around me.

I close my eyes, savoring the closeness and letting the knowledge of him being here with me chase all of the monsters from my mind.

MAVERICK

As the sun creeps over the horizon, bathing the inside of my apartment in gold, my neck aches, and my arm has been asleep for the better part of three hours. But I still refuse to move. Sadie is curled up against my side, her warm body pressed so close to mine it’s literally killing me not to rest my head on top of hers. Not to pull her into my lap and hold her completely.

Physical intimacy isn’t something I ever wanted. Mainly because I knew that marriage was off the table for me, so I didn’t bother entering into any kind of sexual relationship where I could risk getting someone pregnant.

This is the closest I’ve been to a woman since my high school girlfriend, and even then, we’d only gone to the movies a handful of times before that particular relationship went up in flames.

Even though I don’t have a whole lot to go off of, I cannot imagine holding any other woman would feel as right as it does right now, with Sadie in my arms.

Honestly, what I feel is almost enough to have me believing there might be some big plan to all of this. Some good that can come out of Sadie’s trauma. Because even though it makes me a terrible man, I’m so grateful that she’s here. That it was my alley she stumbled into that night.

That I’m the one sitting here holding her after a nightmare.

And selfishly, I want it to stay this way forever.

What would it be like to have a partner? Someone to come home to?

“Deb, is it really too much to ask for dinner to be warm?” my dad snaps.

Mom is standing in the kitchen with a mug of hot tea in her hands. “You didn’t bother calling all day today, so I had no idea what time you’d be home. Tell me, George, why in the world would I make dinner for a man who can’t even bother to call his wife?”

My dad’s cheeks turn blazing red, and he gestures to where I’m seated at the table, working on my algebra homework. How I wish I were anywhere else, though. Anywhere but here.

“What about your son? You going to let him starve?”

“Of course not. He can have peanut butter and jelly if he wants it. You want us to eat a hot dinner? Then call me.”