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He tightened his hold on her. Her skin was so soft and smooth—the opposite of his hardened, calloused palms. His hands had done things she’d never even be able to imagine. And yet she’d stuck by him. And the idea that he was somehow responsible for the break-in…he didn’t like the way it made him feel. “Why would he be jealous of me? We’re just friends. Strictly platonic.”
Except lately, he didn’t feel platonic.
He felt horny as hell.
“I…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know why.”
They stared at each other, neither moving. Her tits rose and fell with each breath, and no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept returning to her abundant cleavage.
After a few moments, Steven cleared his throat. He couldn’t stop thinking about what she would do if he kissed her. So, instead, he walked over to a lamp and picked it up, setting it in place. Mostly to put distance between them before he did something stupid. “So you’re not scared anymore?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” She hesitated. “I don’t think we need to call the cops on the guy, but it did freak me out. And…and…I don’t want to be alone.”
That, he got. It was the first time she made sense since he walked in the door. Something was off. He couldn’t place his finger on what, or why, but it was. “You want me to hang out?”
“Yeah.” She lifted her lashes. When she did, it made his blood heat and his heart speed up. “Can you stay with me for a few days? Please? I don’t want to be alone if he comes back, and I need you. With me.”
Stay…with her?
For days?
He’d spent the night before. Slept on the couch. Hell, they’d even slept in the same bed together once or twice. But to spend days with her, and only her, when his brain was all fucked up? That was asking for trouble. “Why so long?”
She didn’t answer, her bright blue eyes filling with tears, wringing her hands in front of her. “Steven…” she whispered, her voice soft. “Please.”
He held his arms open, holding back all the questions he had about her odd request and her even stranger behavior. When she was ready to talk, she would. “Of course I’ll stick around. Come here.”
Without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms and held on tight, her entire body melding to his flawlessly. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “You know that.”
She didn’t answer. Just held on to him even tighter.
He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen Lauren this worked up over something, in all of the twenty years they’d been friends. Something had her worried as hell, and he was dying to figure out what that something was, but he’d be here for her until it was better. Or until she was ready to talk about it. Or both.
Tightening his hold on her, he kissed the top of her head. “Shh. It’s all right. You’re all right. I’m here. I’ll stay.”
She nodded as he spoke, obviously needing the words, so he kept saying them. After a while, he stopped paying attention to what he said. He was too busy rubbing her back and smoothing her hair back from her damp face. She smelled like vanilla and sugar cookies—and for the first time in a while…
He felt like he belonged somewhere.
Slowly, she lifted her face to his. The force of their gazes colliding was strong enough to send the entire solar system out of orbit. “You have no idea how much I need you, Steven. You’re the one person I can always count on.”
His heart wrenched painfully to the left before centering itself again. “The feeling is mutual.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “And anytime you need me, I’m here, no matter how silly you might think it is.”
She nodded, sniffed, and let go of him. “Okay.”
He reluctantly did the same, letting her step back. His arms felt empty the second he did so. Until she sniffed and swiped her hands over her cheeks, he hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. Lauren never cried. He stepped forward again, gaze locked on her. “Damn it, cupcake. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
“I’m fine.” Once she studied him, she let a little laugh out. It sounded hoarse and forced. “I got you all wet.”
She wasn’t fine, but no amount of pestering would force her to tell him what was on her mind. So he’d bide his time, and do his best to distract her from whatever was messing with her head. “Hey. That’s usually my line.”
Lauren gasped, her cheeks going pink. “Steven.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” Steven l
aughed and shook out his damp shirt. “I mean, you practically handed it to me on a silver platter.”
