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Now I want to burn the fucker.
“Are you okay? I don’t exactly know what happened out there, he wouldn’t tell us, but you looked upset.”
Stone stands awkwardly by the door and I want to yank him over and force him to sit almost as much as I want to shove him back out of the room. He both calms me and makes me nervous. I’m not sure if it’s because of our extremely odd interaction yesterday or what, but the way he stares at me is unnerving. It makes me squirm like he’s able to see right through me.
I shrug, looking down and rubbing my fingertips over the soft fur of the giraffe. “I don’t know what I am anymore. I don’t understand him or why he was so mad at me. It’s not my fault.” Stone hesitates for a moment before walking further into the room. He gingerly sits on the end of my bed, facing me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks softly.
I look up and study him for a moment. His face truly is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. All of the men in this house are gorgeous in their own way. Probably the best-looking men I’ve ever seen. Where Gage and Maddox have somewhat similar features, they each stand out for different reasons. The same with Nyx and Stone.
But sitting here, looking at Stone,reallylooking at him, I can’t help but feel drawn to him. He feels familiar to me in an unexplainable way. Looking at him, his eyes, and his smile, is soothing, reassuring, and calming. He feels like a balm to my rough edges. Being in his presence, much like yesterday, makes me want to open up. I assumed it was the weird saran wrap swaddle that made me an open book, but I think it was actuallyhim.
“Might need another plastic burrito for this conversation,” I joke, a small grin creeping up my face. He laughs and the warm, throaty sound of it brings chills to my arms. He settles onto the bed more comfortably and nods.
“That can be arranged. Or I could always wrap you up in a straight jacket. You’re probably familiar with those since your a crazy person,” he quips with a mischievous smile.
I can’t help the unladylike cackle that comes out of my mouth. “Yeah, I’m not sure that would have quite the same effect, honestly,” I sigh and lean back, resting against the headboard. “I’m sure Nyx already told you how we met a few years ago,” I start, looking up at him for confirmation. He gives a small nod, so I continue, “well, after that day, I began group therapy for suicide survivors. It’s the only therapy I’ve ever done, group, I mean.” I fight the shutter that wants to take over my body. “My therapist suggested that whenever we had negative, sad, anxious, or suicidal thoughts, to write them down. To not let them fester in our minds, but to basically dump them out on paper. If we still felt just as bad afterward, we were to get into contact with our life-buddy. Mine was Hunter.IsHunter, actually.”
“And those thoughts, that’s what was in the notebook he was waving around out there,” he finishes, nodding his head again.
“Yeah, except,” I shake my head, letting out a huff, “except I wrote tohim.”
“To Nyx?”
I jerk a nod. “I didn’t know that was his name. I called him Redwood that day on the bridge, you know because he’s,” I raise my hand way above my head, in a gesture meaning tall. Stone smirks and chuckles in understanding.
“You and those nicknames,” he murmurs. My brows furrow at his statement but he just smiles and shakes his head before gesturing at me to continue.
“Anyway, I wrote him letters. Every time I felt any kind of negative emotion, I wrote him a letter telling him what was going on, how I was feeling. Eventually, things got better and I started wanting to tell him the good stuff too. I wrote him a letter almost every day. Some were only a few lines or words even. Sometimes I just told him that I missed him.” I look down, feeling my cheeks heat. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I swallow deeply, waiting for him to say something.
He pauses for a few moments and I finally drag my gaze up to meet his. He’s looking at me in that way of his like he sees something that I don’t. “You never meant for the letters to get out. For him to read them, right?” I shake my head back and forth, cringing internally at the memory replaying in my head of Nyx finding and looking through the notebook.
“Definitely not,” I whisper.
Squeezing my eyes at the sudden onslaught of tears that want to come out again, I swallow a few times, trying to force them away. A hand lands on my bare knee, making me jump. My eyes spring open and drop down to my leg, only covered with a pair of comfortable shorts. My scars are on display, and I considered covering them, but I’ve never felt judged around these men, and even if it’s a new and weird situation, I don’t feel uncomfortable in this house.
Stone flips his hand, palm side up, in offering. I look back up at him, surprised by his small act of kindness but concerned. He said he doesn’t do touch, yet this is the second time he’s willingly sought out to touch me. I don’t want his big step to go unnoticed. I slide my hand into his and my body heats at the contact. Little sparks ignite in the place where our skin connects, making me gasp. The only outward sign of him being affected is a slight part in his lips and the tightening grip on my hand as he squeezes.
A few breaths pass as we both just stare at each other, our hands in a death grip before he finally speaks. “We’ve all been through a lot, Ella. Time has not been good to any of us and we all bear the weight of our scars, both mentally and physically. Nyx may be a big, burly guy, but he has a heart of gold, and I do not say that lightly. He has been there for me in ways that I can not even being to explain to you. He is a good person and I know the way he is treating you is not fair, or justifiable, just please understand that he has his reasons. Correct or not, they are valid just the same.”
“I understand,” I murmur, “I just wish he would talk to me, explain why he hates me so much. If I knew, maybe I could chan—”
“He doesn’t hate you, I promise. I know my best friend, and he doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s probably the opposite. He just needs to sort through his baggage.”
We sit in silence. It’s comfortable and it allows me to process what Stone has said. I can understand Nyx’s need to deal with his baggage and wanting to retreat in on himself, or lash out if that’s what he’s doing. If therapy taught me anything, it’s that everyone copes with trauma and emotional upheave differently. I just wish his coping mechanism wasn’t to treat me like shit.
“I get it, but it doesn’t make it right. If I really didn’t do anything, and he doesn’t hate me, then he doesn’t have a right to use me as his verbal punching bag for his tantrums,” I say sternly, meaning every word. Stone’s smile is enough to make me melt into a pile of goo on the bed.
“I’m proud of you, you know. For standing up for yourself, saying what you did out there, and in here. And for going to therapy. I know all of that couldn’t have been easy.” I don’t know why him saying he’s proud of me makes me want to cry again. I can tell that when Stone says things, he thinks them through and only speaks when he really means something. His praise hits me, deeply.
“Thank you,” I mumble around the thick ball of emotion in my throat.
“Of course.” He stares at me again for a minute before shaking his head and quickly rising to his feet, releasing my hand in the process. “Maddox is making dinner, something about grilled cheese sandwiches with real bread and cheese and not Gage’s shitty health food. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
I laugh at that because Gage’s health food is fucking awful and Madd makes it known often how much he despises it. “Thank you but I think I might just go to sleep. I’m exhausted,” I lie. Really, I’m just too embarrassed to show my face right now and I really need some time to decompress alone. He nods even though his face looks like he sees through the lie but accepts the answer anyways.
“Goodnight then, sweet girl.”
