Page 55 of The Apparent Trap

I feel his breathing calm as we lie there, neither of us intending to move for as long as we can have each other here.

So much is roiling in me. I’m angry, sad, shocked; I’m so in awe of the strength of this man to not have let his experiences harden him. I’m so grateful he still approaches the world with lightness, fun, and charm even as it’s taken those very qualities and mocked him with them. I want so much to make everything better for him, even as I’m confused by how strong that want is.

I don’t know what to do with all the feelings coursing their way through me.

I don’t know how to keep them at bay in the midst of an impossible scenario between us.

But I keep breathing, knowing the one thing I can do. I know tonight I can hold him.

And I appreciate that he trusts me to stay with him that way until we’re both asleep again under a cloudy sky.

Chapter 17

I wake up spooning Lee.

I have no idea how we ended up like this. The physics seem comically wrong. He’s so broad next to me. My arm around him is like a baby trying to cuddle a Great Dane. One leg is looped over his hip, barely making it across.

And yet, in this hazy moment between sleep and alert, we’re wrapped up, warm and safe. My chin is resting in the crook of his neck, and he’s so close I could lean over and kiss his skin. I could run my hands through his hair.

God, I want to run my hands through his hair.

That makes my eyes open wide. I need to move. This is entirely too comfortable for someone I absolutely should not be this close to.

But as I start to shift, his hand snaps up and captures mine.

“Just a little longer, okay?” he mumbles. He must be mentally a few seconds behind me, sleep embedded into his voice. He pulls my arm as far around him as it will go, resting our hands on his chest. I nod, breathing him in. Just a little longer.

Time ticks by, his inhales and exhales a soothing rhythm. The snow on the forest trees has a dim sparkle as the sun begins to rise outside the windows above and next to us.

“Ezzie?” he says eventually.

“Hmm?” I ask, my heart pounding.

Is he going to ask me what this means? Does he regret everything he said last night? Am I really strong enough to keep fighting against this, even though we need to?

“Can you finally tell me what Ezzie is short for?”

I burst out a laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“One of many things.”

“Why do you care so much, Leonardo?”

I can feel the reverberations of his chuckle all the way to my toes. “I told you mine.”

I don’t think we’re just talking about first names anymore.

“It’s really a topic between me, my parents, HR, and a higher power.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Do I strike you as an Elizabeth?”

“No, but maybe that’s why you don’t like it.”

“It’s not Elizabeth,” I reply, succinct.

He shifts, squeezing my hand tighter, like a kid who knows he’s about to be told to let go.