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I hadn’t felt like this since before. Before Rhys, before my life had been torn apart. Before…
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt like this.
That feeling grew to ginormous proportions, and I was almost tempted to do something about it when the water turned off and the fear I lived with daily came slamming back. I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.
But I couldn’t help but peek when he came into the room.
He was quiet for such a big man. Or maybe it was the sight of him, fully naked but for the tiny towel secured at his waist, that had my blood pumping through my ears so hard I couldn’t hear anything else. He took my breath away, but more so when he dropped the towel.
It didn’t matter that it was dark. It didn’t matter that he was turned away, that my eyes were half-closed as I pretended to sleep. He was naked, and for the first time in forever, I didn’t want to be scared.
Lee tugged on clean underwear and jeans, grabbing a T-shirt from his dresser before closing the drawer. His gaze snapped to me when the drawer clicked shut, and I prayed he couldn’t see me slam my eyelids closed. I prayed he didn’t realize that I’d been watching him with drool fucking pooling in my mouth.
Then I stopped praying and started wishing instead.
I almost cried when he left me there alone, but I was too afraid to stop him. He once told me that he cared, made me think that he loved me. But then he’d walked away and I hadn’t seen him again until I crawled into his bed last night.
Stupid might as well have been my middle name.
My discomfort grew each second I was alone. Had it not been for the deep drone of his voice rumbling through the air vents, I would have thought he’d left me again. I wished I could hear what he was saying, wished it was me he was talking to.
I wished my heart and body didn’t act like this, that old wanting I thought I’d left behind, coming back.
“You awake yet?”
I jumped at the sound of his voice behind me and spun to find him staring down at me.
“Lee.” It came out on a breath. Came out as a wish. I was scrambling for him before the chink of the handcuffs against the headboard reminded me he wasn’t mine.
Even though the look in his emerald eyes screamed that I was.
“Made you coffee.” It was a gift. His kindness, his calm. The heat of his body as he leaned over me, hovering so close to me but not coming in contact. Not until his fingers wrapped around my wrist, smoothing over the scars I’d left there when I tried to kill myself.
Lee’s eyes fell closed, and for a long moment, I couldn’t breathe. Not when his face buckled as if he might break, and the sight of it had my ragged heart cracking in my chest.
When he opened his eyes, his attention went right to his leg—to his thick thigh my hand had settled on. His gaze flashed to mine, and I was drawn to the sight of his tongue flicking out and swiping across his lips. Something clicked above my head, and suddenly Lee was off the bed, standing beside me as he shoved the cuffs in his back pocket.
“Breakfast will be ready in a few. Why don’t you hop in the shower and get cleaned up.”
If it hadn’t been the exact same thing he’d told me almost every morning when I’d lived here with him, I would have been self-conscious about his request. I swore, I could smell myself. The sour sweat from the nightmares that never stopped. The cigarette smoke that clung to my skin. The musk that had grown as my overwhelming desire for something I shouldn’t have thought about—let alone considered acting on—had consumed me.
I climbed from the mattress, taking care not to let myself touch him, and walked toward the bathroom. At the door, I paused and looked at him over my shoulder. “Where are you going to be?”
He eyed me with so much distrust, I could feel it rolling off him in waves. He licked his front teeth, weighing his words, but I couldn’t take it.
“I’m not going to run away.”
Dammit, I wanted to. I wanted to run far, far away from him. I wanted to run to the comfort of his arms. I wanted not to hate myself so much so that maybe he could love me again.
He pointed at the floor beside the bathroom door. “Brought your bag down. I’ll be upstairs.”
Watching him walk away was like watching him leave me last year. Except this was worse. This time, I knew I couldn’t trust him to keep his word. He’d told me he cared about me, yet he never once came to see me while I was away. I hated him for it. I hated that I’d believed him.
I felt like I wasn’t good enough.
After racing through my shower, I threw on my leggings and pulled my sweatshirt from my bag. I was halfway up the basement stairs before I even got it pulled over my head. I stumbled into the kitchen, tripping over my feet in an effort to find him, only to let out a relieved cry when I did.
He was there.
