“Um…” she murmurs. She goes from peering at the floor beneath her bare feet to sneaking a glance up at me. “Hey?”
“Hey,” I answer. We pause again, more uncertainty swirling in the air. I take a couple steps closer. “Thanks for… for rooting for me during the fight.”
Her brows raise in question, confusion flitting across her features.
“I heard you,” I say. “In the middle of it. When I almost got my ass knocked out. I was down on the mat and heard your voice above the others. It helped. Made me push harder.”
“Oh,” she says, fussing with a button on the folded up pajamas she’s been given. “Right. It’s what every girl wants to watch. Her boyfriend’s blood spraying across the floor as he’s knocked down.”
It occurs to her only half a second later what she’s said. Her eyes widen behind her glasses and the faintest flush creeps onto her cheeks, a light pink shade on brown skin.
“I mean… um, bad word choice,” she mumbles. “Sorry.”
“I understood what you meant,” I say. My hand finds my hair again, fingers sifting through the strands as I settle on addressing what’s necessary. “Jhene… I owe you an apology.”
“Killian… don’t.” She shakes her head.
“Too late. Because Iamsorry—for all the shit that’s happened. I should’ve given you the chance to explain yourself. That night, when I found the phone... I should’ve listened instead of assuming the worst. I should’ve been open-mindedabout it. Trusted that what we had was real. So I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“No,” she says glumly, dropping her gaze to the floor again. “I’mthe one who wasn’t honest with you. I kept things from you. You deserved to know about the burner and the fact that I was still in contact with Fedorov. I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning.
“But I was scared and I didn’t know how and I just...” She trails off, pressing her lips together as if holding back a sob. “I never planned on developing feelings for you. But the longer I was in your world, the realer it became. The more I wanted to stay.”
A few seconds go by where we let our apologies hover in the room with us. We digest what’s been said and the many regrets we seem to share.
I heave a deep breath, letting it out despite how my ribs ache. “I get it, Jhene. You didn’t have much of a choice. Even the choices you had were complicated ’cuz of what you’ve been through. You were doing what you felt was best for Eva, and I... I get that. I would’ve done the same thing if Maeve’s life were on the line.”
“So what does this mean for us now?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
She folds her legs under her on the bed, sitting crisscross as she stares at her hands in her lap, then braves another look up at me.
“Can I be honest?”
I nod and wait for her to keep going.
“I’m awreck, Killian. I have so much to process and think about. I don’t even know what I want my life to look like now that... now that everything’s different.”
“You don’t have to right now. Not tonight,”I say. “Get some rest. Ronan’s alright with us crashing here for the night. I’m in the room down the hall if you… need anything.”
A vague smile touches her lips. “Okay.”
I turn to go, crossing the room and heading back for the door. I pause only when she calls out to me again.
“Killer?”
“Hmm?”
“Good night,” she says softly.
I nod at her from over my shoulder. “Night, stray.”
I don’t sleep much through the night and judging by the dark circles under everybody’s eyes at breakfast, I’m not the only one.
Oona’s a woman on a mission, running the kitchen even more abrasively than usual. She has the kitchen staff prepare enough food for breakfast to feed a small army.
Fried and scrambled eggs, pork sausages, baked beans, mushrooms and tomatoes, toast, fresh-squeezed orange juice, a pot of coffee strong enough to strip paint—the list is damn near endless.
