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Addison reacted as if he’d thrown a bucket of water at her. On a high-pitched shriek, she leaped a good three feet in the air, landing on the floor with the bed now between them.
“Shh.” He put up his hands, palms facing her. “It’s me.”
“O-Oliver? What are you doing in my room?”
“You were crying.”
Her hands flew to her wet cheeks. Pulling them away, she stared at the wetness on her fingertips as if it belonged to someone else. “I had a nightmare.”
“You were sobbing loud enough to wake the dead.”
“I hate storms,” she admitted, crawling back into bed and burrowing deeper under the covers. “And the dark. The power outage threw me off. I don’t remember the last time I was in a power outage in Seattle.”
Seeing someone as strong-willed as Addison curled in bed, knees drawn to her chest like an exhausted child, did something odd and twisty to his stomach.
He should offer her something. Tea, maybe, or hot chocolate. There’d been a canister of cocoa in the cupboard—
Like hell. He wasn’t about to do anything to help her have a more comfortable stay here. “Can you keep it down? Hard to sleep when you’re all sorts of whimpering down here.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Yes, I’ll be quiet. I don’t think I’ll sleep much more tonight anyway.”
The quiet apology didn’t sound like the steel-spined woman who’d barreled into his home over a week ago. The storm must have gotten to her.
Not his problem.
She swiped at her cheeks again, but the tears kept coming.
“You’re still crying.”
“I can’t help it. I’ll stop soon.” She shifted until her back faced him. “You can go back to your room now.”
A good suggestion. Shifting from foot to foot, he took a look around her space. “It’s dark here.”
“I know.”
“If you hate the dark, you’ll just keep crying.”
Lifting her hand, she waved him off without looking. “I’m fine. Go away.”
Another sniffle tore through her.
Just walk away, Icefall. He sat on the edge of her bed. “I can look for candles. There has to be at least one here somewhere.”
“Don’t think so. I feel like I know this place like the back of my hand now. No candles.”
Well, there you go then. Nothing else to be done but to let her cry it out. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone in the dark. Yes, he despised her, but he didn’t want to see her upset. “My room has a fireplace.”
When she flipped to face him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you bragging?”
“It’s the only one in the house. We’ll get the fire going, and you can take my room. I’ll take this one.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I need sleep. I doubt I can do that knowing you’re here terrified of the storm.”
Catching her lip between her teeth, she considered his explanation. “You’d give up your room?”
“Just for tonight.”
