Page 223 of Nyx

A little girl has lost her mother. A woman trying to better her life is gone. All of it is senseless, and it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for the greed and entitlement of one man.

A faint knock fills the room, making me snap my head toward the door. I rush to wipe the tears off my face even though I know anyone on the other side of that door can look at my face and tell I've been crying.

"Come in," I say, my voice sounding weird in my own ears.

The door slowly opens, Nyx sticking just his head inside.

"I'm done," he tells me, his damp hair sticking to his forehead in places.

He looks younger, as if life hadn't kicked him in the teeth as many times as it actually had, beginning with his mother's abuse and father's death.

There's a vulnerability in it, but I know better than to forget what he's capable of, and was more than willing to do tonight to protect me.

"Come in," I say again when he continues to just stand there, half inside and half outside of the room.

He steps inside, closing and locking the door behind him, but he hovers near the edge of the bed rather than immediately climbing inside.

I want to tell him that I have no expectations, that I didn't ask for his presence and comfort because I expect more from him, but I can't seem to find the words, unsure of what his response would be.

"Ready for bed?" I ask instead.

"I am," he tells me.

I flip the blankets back on the side opposite mine, smiling softly when he sits on the edge of the bed, bending over first to pull off his shoes before rotating his body.

"Fu—I mean dang," he says as he climbs back out of the bed. "Forgot the lights."

I reach for the lamp, flicking it on a second before he flips the switch.

"How often do you think curse words in your head?" I ask, needing to say something to fill the awkwardness that threatens to settle over me.

I watch as he walks back to the bed, this time not hesitating to take the spot beside me.

"More often than I should be proud of," he mutters.

"You know you don't have to change who you are when I'm around."

He lies back, head on the pillow, fingers interlaced behind his head.

"You don't cuss," he says. "Well, you cussed that one time at your apartment when the alarm went off."

My cheeks heat. "I didn't know you heard that. I don't do it often."

"I figured," he says. "So I don't cuss around you. I actually try not to cuss around any women. When I'm with the guys, it's different."

"What about Rivet and Slick?"

He chuckles, the sound wrapping around me like a blanket.

"They have mouths just as bad as mine."

I settle in, feeling a little uncomfortable and unsure how to act, even though I know asking him to stay is what I want.

"Can I keep the lamp on?"

"Of course," he says.

I close my eyes, exhaustion swimming inside me.