Page 87 of Three Steps Behind

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head, her eyes red rimmed, her voice a mix of sleep and terror. “I’m not okay.” Brutal honesty slipped from her cracked lips.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, stepping toward her.

“Do you think . . . ?” She hesitated a moment. “I mean . . . would you mind . . . Could I have a hug?” The vulnerability with which she asked squeezed his heart.

“Of course. You never have to ask.” He stepped forward and opened his arms, trying to figure out the best way to hug her while he was still standing.

“No,” she said. “Come sit with me.” She patted the couch beside her.

He gently eased down on the sofa, leaning back.

She blinked up at him and then rested her head on his shoulder.

He placed a kiss on top of her head. She nuzzled her face deeper into his hold. He’d never experienced anything more perfect than her in his embrace, but her pain radiated all the same. Seeing someone he cared about—cared far deeper than he’d imagined—so distraught churned his stomach. An ache he couldn’t stop festered inside. For the first time in a long time, he felt helpless, and it rattled him.

Harper gazed up at him. “Are you all right?”

She was in such pain, and she was asking if he was all right? “I’m fine.” His brows pinched. “Why do you ask?”

“Your entire body just went tense.”

“Old memory.” He didn’t want to bring up his childhood, or any reference to it, but somehow, Harper lowered his guard. He hadn’t felt helpless and shaken since being a kid—unable to help Riley the way he wanted and not knowing if his parents were ever coming back.

“I get that,” she said. “My memories are far too new.”

“Zero pressure,” he said, “but I’m always here if you want a listening ear.”

“Thank you,” she said. “One day, I’ll take you up on that.”

He brushed the matted hair from her brow, his touch light, but his anger flared at the sight of another bruise by her temple. “Would you like to watch a movie?” he asked. “Perhaps distract your thoughts for a while?”

“No, thank you. I want to stay just like this, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Better than okay. He’d stay like this all night, every night, if it eased her fears. And maybe his raw, unfiltered honesty would help her too. It would take a lot, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to give a lot to a woman. She didn’t know it, but he loved her and would do anything for her, including this.

He cleared his throat, and she gazed up, making this harder. “I just wanted you to know you aren’t the only one.”

She arched a brow. “The only one who . . . ?”

“Who’s a mess. I mean, I don’t think you’re a mess. I think you’re just going through a really traumatic time. That would be excruciating on anybody and take loads of time to heal. I’m the mess.”

She sat up and turned to face him, bringing her knees to her chest. “What are you saying?”

“I should have thought this through better.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“You’re doing just fine.”

He was anything but fine. His heart was racing, perspiration on his brow. Why was this so difficult for him when Grey and Riley could speak so easily with each other? Speak nearly incessantly when together, like the words just spewed forth.

“Honey?” she nudged.

He’d called her that, but that was a first off her lips, and it gave him the courage to tumble forward with no clue where all this would land. “What I’m doing a horrible job at saying is you’re going to be okay one day. I truly believe that.”

“And you?”

“I’m beyond repair. Not that what happened to me was anywhere near what you must have endured . . .” This was coming out all wrong.

“It sounds pretty traumatic, and it went on for a long time. I don’t think you should belittle it.”