“You think you’re the only one feeling this?” he asked quietly. The look in his eyes shattered her completely, because she believed him—every word, and that was somehow more terrifying than anything else. Jonnas reached for her carefully, giving her plenty of time to pull away before guiding her gently across the center console and into his lap.
Dani let out a startled sound. “Jonnas—” His arms wrapped around her securely immediately, like he already knew she needed grounding.
“You’re spiraling again,” he murmured against her hair.
“I can’t help it,” she breathed.
“I know,” he said. The softness in his voice made her eyes burn unexpectedly. Dani curled instinctively against his chest, breathing him in. He felt like home. The realization hit her so suddenly that it almost hurt. Jonnas’s hand slid slowly up and down her back while she tried not to emotionally unravel in his arms.
“You know what I think?” he murmured after a long moment.
“What?” she asked.
“I think you’re exhausted from carrying everything alone,” he said. A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
Jonnas caught it instantly. “Easy, baby girl.”
Dani buried her face against his neck in humiliation. “I cry all the time now.”
“You’re pregnant,” he reminded.
“I’m pathetic,” she countered.
His hand tightened against her back immediately. “No.” The firmness in his voice made her look up at him. “You do not get to talk about yourself like that.” Her stomach did a flip-flop, because there it was again—that calm authority. He wasn’t controlling her the way that some guys tried to. He was protecting her, and the terrifying thing was that some deep,needy part of her loved it. Jonnas saw the exact moment that realization hit her, and his eyes darkened.
“Come upstairs,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a demand—not exactly, but it was close enough that her body reacted anyway. Dani nodded before she could second-guess herself, and for the first time in a very long time, letting someone in didn’t feel scary; it felt safe.
Jonnas
Jonnas had never brought a woman back to his place twice. But the second Dani curled against him in the parking garage, something inside him settled with dangerous certainty. Mine to protect. The thought should’ve alarmed him; instead, it felt instinctive.
He kept one hand firmly against her back while carrying her upstairs through the private elevator leading into his penthouse. Dani stayed tucked against his chest quietly, one arm looped around his neck, while exhaustion weighed heavily in her eyes.
She fell asleep on him on the elevator, and honestly, the idea of joining her didn’t sound bad. Dani looked tired down to her bones. The elevator doors slid open directly into his apartment, and Jonnas stepped inside carefully without jostling her too much.
Dani lifted her head slightly, blinking around sleepily. “Sorry, I can’t seem to keep my eyes open,” she said. She looked around his apartment and sighed. “Your place feels like it belongs in a movie.”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, honey.”
“A little of both.” She yawned softly. “Your kitchen alone probably costs more than my entire apartment building.” His chest tightened instantly at her self-deprecating humor. Dani constantly made herself smaller without even realizing it.
Jonnas carried her toward the couch anyway. “You need to stop talking about yourself like you’re disposable.” Her expression shifted immediately. He had caught her off guard.
“I was joking,” she insisted.
“I know.” He sat down carefully with her still tucked against him. “It doesn’t mean I like hearing it.” Dani went quiet—too quiet. Jonnas recognized that look already—the one she got whenever someone treated her gently for too long. Like she didn’t quite know what to do with kindness that came without conditions attached. It pissed him off more every time he noticed it.
“You hungry?” he asked softly, changing the subject.
“A little,” she admitted.
“What sounds good?” he asked.
“Honestly?” She looked embarrassed. “Mac and cheese.”
Jonnas smirked. “That’s manageable.”
“Don’t judge me,” she said. “I’ll eat a vegetable tomorrow.”
