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Leave him. This isn’t your responsibility. He is nothing to you.
But my feet moved of their own accord. I jerked the bandage from his hands and began wrapping his foot. Once I had it covered, I propped the limb on a pillow so it was elevated, pressed the ice to it again, then stalked to the chair on the other side of the room to watch him.
I craved space as much as I craved his skin, but I couldn’t leave him alone in my home.
“Why did you bring me here?” When I didn’t respond, he added, “Are you taking me to my car tomorrow? It’s my left foot, so I can drive.” At that, I gave a simple nod. “So…I’m supposed to sit here all night with you watching me?”
I ignored him, and he sighed, maneuvering himself so he lay down.
We sat there in silence, for an hour, maybe two. He watched me, and I watched him, wondering what he saw in my eyes. Something wild? Angry? Wrong? Strange? Did he know that his gaze bled with sadness? That I could see that he was even more alone than I was? That for the first time in my life, I almost felt like I saw myself in someone else? That made me want to hate him…made me want to possess him too.
“I understand it…why you like it out here. Somehow the seclusion and quiet helps silence the voices in my head.”
My pulse punched against my skin. Words felt about to escape me in a way that was foreign to me.
But I didn’t have to respond because Cyrus closed his eyes and went to sleep.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. When the ice got warm, I grabbed another pack and laid it against his ankle. I took in his flawless skin, the freckles on his nose. What would it be like to be inside this man? My hands twitched, and I forced myself to return to my chair, eyes open all night, taking in every angle of him, every dip and valley, the way he breathed and mumbled soft sounds.
Maybe I was more like Chosen than I thought, because part of me wanted to keep him here and never let him leave.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cyrus
My eyes fluttered open to find Crow still sitting in the same chair, watching me. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he’d been there all night, that he hadn’t slept and had kept vigil over me, yes, but he also wasn’t comfortable with me in his cabin—if you could call it that. Cabins felt small to me, and this…wasn’t.
Had anyone ever been here? Did he have secret mountain-man friends? Women he brought up here to fuck? Even as I asked myself those questions, I somehow knew the answer was no. That no one had been here in an extremely long time except for me.
“Why?” I asked, unable to hold back the question. “I’m not your concern. You could have helped me to my car and let me drive home last night. Why did you bring me here?”
He stood silently, not even the chair willing to make a creaking sound beneath him. He walked over to me, then gave me an up-nod like he wanted me to stand up. When I didn’t, he reached for me swiftly, my instincts making me flinch even though deep in my heart, I didn’t believe Crow would hurt me. I didn’t believe he would hurt anyone unless they gave him a reason to, and then, like with Billy at the store yesterday, all bets were off.
It made him stop, though. His head cocked slightly, but I didn’t think he realized he did it. His face hardened, his mouth tightening into a straight line. He grabbed me and jerked me to my feet…well, foot. “Jesus Christ. Someone got up on the wrong side of the chair this morning,” I joked, but of course I didn’t get a laugh in return.
He gave a jerky nod toward the door.
“I have to piss.” He closed his eyes and let out a breath as if he was tired of me. “You’re the one who brought me here. Don’t treat me like shit because you’re sick of me.” It was something I was used to. I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. While I was pretty steady now, my mood swings could be a lot—okay one day and then unable to pull myself out of bed the next, and when I did struggle, my mood swings were often cycling rapidly, so I was all over the place, and people around me had no idea what to expect. Mental illness was a bitch. I took medication for it, but it had plagued me for most of my life. People had judged me for it, walked away from me because of it, looked at me like I was broken because of it. The thought of Crow doing that made my skin prickle more. That shouldn’t be the case. It shouldn’t matter to me what this man thought of me, but it did.
I began to limp toward the door. Crow let me get a couple of steps in before his fingers wrapped around my wrist. He gave a small shake of his head, and then without a word, lifted me again.
“Sweet Jesus. I can walk. I’m not helpless.”
He didn’t listen, of course, instead walking me down the hallway and into the bathroom. He set me on my feet, then stood with his arms crossed, waiting.
“You want to watch me pee?” He rolled his eyes in response. “You really don’t trust me in your space at all, do you?” Because he wasn’t used to having someone in his space. Because this was his, and he’d been through so fucking much in his life, and he’d been here alone for ten-ish years. It hit me then how big it really was that Crow had brought me here at all. “I’m sorry I invaded your mountain…and that I hurt my ankle, so you felt like you had to bring me here. I know this is sacred to you—your home. I’ll go as soon as I’m done.”
I hobbled to the toilet, feeling Crow’s eyes on me. His eyes were always on me, and it was unnerving and welcome at the same time. I unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, pulled my dick out, and began to piss. I wasn’t shy of my body. There had been times I was so high, I’d strip for my ex and all his friends, dance for them and blow them, always the life of the party, always the center of attention. Eddie’s slut boy—the reason he kept me around and the reason they all liked me.
When I finished, I scooted to the sink. It put me close to Crow, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him. The scent of Douglas firs, musk, and fresh air filled my senses again.
I expected him to move, to take a step back, but instead, when I turned the faucet on and began washing, he reached out, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand.
I sucked in a sharp breath, watched him in the mirror. His gaze didn’t meet mine there, instead looking at how he touched me.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
