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Her gaze alighted on the folded clothes on the nearby chair, on the takeout container on top of the fridge, on the opened bottle of whiskey next to it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up from your . . . catnap?”
She didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but what she saw said something very different from a nap caught between too many hours of research. Now the fact that he was always here, always working late when no one else was made sense.
He sat up and reached out to grab his T-shirt without meeting her eyes. He pulled it over his head, covering all that lean, sinewy muscle. “I stay overnight here sometimes. Dr. Paxton knows.”
“I— Okay.” She clamped her lips shut. She wasn’t going to be one of those people who asked questions that weren’t her place to ask. She wasn’t going to ask why he slept here even though he seemed to have money—designer jeans, fancy laptop. And she wasn’t going to ask why it looked like he’d been crying. And drinking. Alone.
Donovan pushed the blanket away, revealing a pair of wrinkled jeans and bare feet. “I didn’t think you’d be die-hard enough to work on a Saturday night. You’ve got to have some place more interesting to be.”
She backed away to the other side of the desk to give him space—to give her space. Last thing she needed was for her blushing affliction to start up. “I, uh, still have a lot of stuff to wrap up before Professor Roberts gets back.”
He frowned and slipped socks on. “I’m sorry. I’m sure helping me has put you behind. You need me to pitch in? I’m fast at data entry.”
“Uh, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You can get some rest. I won’t bother you.”
“You’re not—” He grimaced and shook his head. “You’re not bothering me. I just— I wasn’t expecting company tonight.”
“Are you okay?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
“I’m fine.” The words were like a whip snapped.
She winced at the stinging impact.
He blew out a breath and looked up at her, weariness in those blue eyes. “Sorry. I’m— It’s just been a shit day.”
She shifted on her feet, not sure what to do with this version of the normally upbeat guy she’d gotten to know. He looked like he could use a hug, but she didn’t like random people giving her those, so she wouldn’t assume that he’d be cool with that either. Plus, she’d probably pant or drool on him or som
ething, being that close. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Distraction’d be good. Wanna get drunk with me?”
She glanced at the whiskey bottle. “I don’t drink.”
His brows went up. “Ever?”
“Not my thing.” No way was she testing her genes with a big heaping dose of mood-altering substances. “Maybe another kind of distraction?”
“Wanna fuck?”
The question zipped right up her spine, making her straighten and almost taking her feet out from under her. She hadn’t meant her question that way, but now she realized how what she’d said must’ve sounded. “Uh . . .”
Donovan turned away with a groan. “Shit. Just fucking ignore me. I might still be drunk. I didn’t mean to say that.”
Her mouth was dry, her heart knocking hard against her ribs. She ached to go to him, put her arms around him, make whatever had beat him down today go away. To say, Yes, let’s do that thing you said. Right now. But all she could do was stand like a damn statue in the half-lit room and say, “It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s the opposite of all right.”
She should leave. Let him deal with whatever was bothering him in private. But she couldn’t make her feet move. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Donovan went about folding the blanket he’d tossed on the couch, his movements tense. One. Two. Three. He folded sharp lines into the soft quilt. She thought he was going to ignore her completely, but then finally, he spoke. “My parents were killed in a home invasion last year.”
Her heart plummeted into her stomach, making a gust of air pop out of her mouth.
“Today, the courts dropped the case against the guy who everyone thought did it.” He tossed the folded blanket onto the back of the couch with more force than necessary. “New evidence cleared him. Now there’s not a fucking lead to go on, and the case is cold. My parents are dead, my family is gone, and whoever did it is out there living his goddamned life like nothing ever happened.”
She closed her eyes, the pain in his voice seeping into her and making her hurt for him. “I’m so sorry.”
He turned around, his jaw set. “Yeah, well, life isn’t fair, right? The good guys don’t get to win just because they’re good.”
