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“Oh, Daze,” he breathed, and it was the pity in his voice that opened the floodgates of her hell. Sobs wracked out of her chest. Her vision blurred. She clawed the tiles. When will this anguish end?
“Daze. Let me turn this off,” he muttered.
“No. Let it wash me.” Clean me.
“You’re still in your clothes.”
“I know.”
He paused. He sighed.
She was a burden. Even to him. She would always be a burden. Couldn’t do anything right.
“Why are you here?” she blurted, trying one last time to push him away.
When silence answered her, she thought he was gone. The tears she’d held back burst forth again but this time, there was no sound. There was hardly enough air.
And then…
He reached over her, gathered her, and laid down behind her. In the wet. In the shower rain. Holding her close.
“I could tell you that Mary sent me,” he said, voice low and rough. “I could tell you that I’ve been in a daze since I met you. I could also say that there’s something pulling me to you in the way the shore calls to the sea. But the truth is, my truth is… I don’t know why I’m here.” She tried to hunch away from him. “Stop it,” he scolded. “No more. Let me take care of you. Let me cuddle you.”
Those last words. They broke her.
Unable to stomach the sight of blood circling, she rolled into him, buried her face in the comfort of his chest and cried. She cried for all that she lost. The years. The lives. Her soul.
She cried out the pain in her soul until the emptiness didn’t feel so raw.
At some point, Axel slipped his hands under her arms and thighs in a way she imagined him using frequently in his job. He hoisted her effortlessly, shut off the faucet, and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around her like a cocoon, and then carried her to bed where he laid her down gently and patted her dry.
Her eyes remained closed, hiding. She couldn’t face him. The shame.
The mattress depressed as he climbed on before her. The pillow tilted as he laid his damp head next to hers. He caressed her hips. His breath tickled her face.
She should be cold. But warmth emanated from him like a cozy fire.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” he finished softly. “But that’s okay. What matters is that I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes opened and were caught immediately in the snare of his. She gasped. His were hot, dark and glistening as though he was on the brim of breaking too. But there was no despair. Never would this man’s sadness hurt her. Somehow, she was unsettled about that. He shouldn’t suffer alone. She touched his cheek and he pushed into her, chasing her touch.
“Why?” she whispered. “I don’t understand.”
“Is that so bad? Do we have to figure out everything right now?”
“I suppose not.”
“Good.” He exhaled and tugged her closer before closing his eyes.
She watched his gorgeous face for a moment, marveling at it so close. A tiny freckle on the bronzed skin beneath his left eye. A tiny scar on his upper lip. Stubble peppering his jaw. Thick, thick lashes swept down like the wings of a dark angel.
She spent some time being aware of her body’s sensations. She felt as tumultuous as a sea in a storm. Up. Down. Up again. Axel brought them up. His very presence made her feel good. Not just the mating thing where touching him reset her internal sin equilibrium, but his demeanor. What she’d thought was pity, wasn’t. Someone who pitied her wouldn’t have hugged like he had. They wouldn’t have taken care of her. They wouldn’t be here right now.
She knew exactly what tolerance was. Julius had displayed it daily for her. He’d never truly wanted her around. He’d placated her and left her as fast as he could. He’d never once cuddled her. He’d never stayed when she’d been sad.
But Axel did. Not only did he stay, but his body language—all at peace and languid—said he seemed to like it. Axel truly liked her company. The sudden thought had her heart pitter pattering in her chest. She became hyperaware of her wet clothes, of the damp towel beneath them.
“Axel?”
