Page 85 of No Good Fight

“I’ll try.”

Her eyes meet mine with no patience in them.

I rub the back of my neck. “No.” I admit. “Probably not gonna get a lot of rest.”

“Then sleep with me.”

My whole body goes still.

Alex rolls her eyes, but the edge of hurt stays in her face. “Actually sleep. Do not make me regret using a normal phrase like a normal adult and have you panic thinking I’m propositioning you when you panic while kissing me.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face said several things, and at least two of them were filthy.”

That almost gets me to smile. Almost.

She steps closer and takes my hand before I can decide whether I’m allowed to reach out for her. “I don’t want you on the couch listening for me to move all night. I don’t want to be upstairs knowing you’re awake because you think the house is going to fail or the security will be overpowered by my douchebag ex if you close your eyes. I know I’ll sleep better if you’re there instead of the sweater we both know I’d sleep in without you. I think you will too.”

I look at our hands. Hers is smaller, colder, and still steady around mine.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “But this is something that I’m choosing, and I’m sure about that.”

That is the only answer I need.

I check the alarm and the feeds. Alex waits by the stairs with my hand still in hers, and when I turn back, she gives me a look that says she counted every second but is choosing not to comment on how long it took while I was dragging my feet. I let her have the silence because she has already given me more than I deserve.

In the guest room, she climbs into bed first and lifts the blanket. I get in beside her fully dressed, careful with every inch until she turns onto her side and pulls my arm around her waist herself. Her back fits against my chest, her hand settling over mine like a weight and a promise wrapped into that tiny little gesture.

Christ, she feels exactly the way I’ve dreamt she would for years.

The cameras glow downstairs. The rain keeps tapping the glass. I stay awake long enough to feel her breathing even out beneath my hand, and for the first time since this shit started, the dark doesn’t feel like something I have to beat back with my bare hands.

Alex makes everything more bearable, even my obsessive need to make sure she’s taken care of.

Now I just have to figure out how to keep her, because I was right. I haven’t even tasted her yet, and I know there’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to walk away…or let her go.

16

ALEX

Ryder’s house looks completely normal until I start opening drawers and looking into the cabinets.

It’s not like I’m snooping with malicious intent. It started with me looking for coffee filters, which feels like a reasonable activity for a woman who slept in the same bed as a man she wants badly enough to damage her common sense.

The problem is that Ryder keeps his coffee filters in a cabinet above the machine like a boring, functional adult, and I find them almost immediately, which means every drawer I open after that would be harder to defend in a court of law.

The junk drawer has three flashlights, two rolls of batteries, a multi-tool, a lighter, waterproof matches, zip ties, and a laminated card with emergency numbers written in blocky black ink. All normal adult things to have, and that just makes me more suspicious.

Under the sink, sitting beside dish soap and garbage bags, he has a small fire extinguisher, a first-aid kit, and a plastic tag labeled WATER SHUT OFF. The pantry is useless and contains normal things like cereal and pasta, but the bottom shelf has bottled water stacked behind protein bars and an old crank radio still in the box.

I stand there with the pantry door open and my coffee going cold on the counter.

Behind me, Ryder’s bare feet stop on the kitchen tile. “You found the emergency shelf, I see.”

“That sentence is not doing what you think it’s doing for your defense.”