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I nod.
"And he’s kept his distance in the past, what is it, six weeks?"
I nod again.
"And now he’s standing outside the window—"
"Which is not fair, really." I begin to pace. "He knows he’s going to wear me down, just by showing up."
"And standing in the rain."
"Yeah." I drag my fingers through my hair. "The thing is, I’m not ready, Penny. I’m not. I can’t forgive him yet for everything he did."And maybe, part of the problem is me. Because damn, when he orders me around in that Dom voice of his, it feels so good, so right. It turns me on so fucking much to be subservient to him, but how do I know he won’t take advantage of that part of me again?I hunch my shoulders. "I’m not ready."
"Then don’t rush into anything."
I glance toward the window again, then at her. "And what do I do about the fact that he’s outside?"
"What is it you want to do?"
"Nothing."
She raises her hands. "Follow your instincts, babe. There’s no right or wrong here." She rises to her feet and yawns hugely. "I’m beat. This new job is killing me."
"Oh, my god, that’s right. I’m so sorry. How was it?" Penny just started working shifts in a restaurant. Today was her first day, actually, and I never even asked her how it went. I’ve been so preoccupied with my own troubles, I haven’t been a very good friend. "Is it what you thought it would be?"
She shrugs. "I’m only a trainee chef, and today—" She winces. "I may have botched things up a little, which is why I left early." She brightens. "But tomorrow is another day, huh?" She winks. "I’m off to bed. I have to be back at eight a.m. tomorrow." She blows me a kiss, then heads off in the direction of her bedroom. I stare at the window a little longer, then switch off the light and head to bed.
* * *
I sit up in bed with my chest heaving. It’s dark in my room, but I hear a steady tapping at my window. Sweat beads my forehead, and my pulse flutters at my wrists, at my ankles, even behind my eyeballs. The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I swing my legs over the bed.
I switch on my bedside lamp, then pull on my yoga pants and socks. I pad across the floor to the window, crack the drapes, look down, and flinch. It’s still raining. The rays from the closest streetlamp cast enough light that I can make out his silhouette.
He’s in the same position, feet slightly apart, arms across his broad chest. His chin tilts up. His cap casts his eyes in shadow, and what I can see of his face glistens in the scant light. The rain seems to grow in intensity. A gust of wind blows through the trees. A window bangs somewhere.
I jump and flatten my palm against the window. My blood begins to pound at my temples. A hot sensation pools in my chest. I should move away. Should turn my back on him and go to bed. I try to turn, but my feet seem attached to the floor. A ball of emotion clogs my throat. A tickle teases my nostrils. I sniff, then freeze when he sways. I peer through the darkness, trying to make out if he’s okay. He sways again, and I gasp. Then, his legs seem to give out on him, and he keels over.
52
Cade
One minute I’m standing—frozen, shivering so much I can’t feel my hands and feet—the next second I’m on the ground. The rain pelts my face—I lost my hat when I fell—and I try to throw my arm up to shield my eyes, but it feels like I’m moving through thick, syrupy, liquid. I hear the sound of someone groaning, then realize it’s me.
Fucking hell, so this is what it really feels like to grovel?To lose all sensation in your body but feel everything in your heart; to be tuned into your thoughts with such clarity that the truth is clearer than it’s ever been before. When I thought I was going to die, all I wanted was to see her face. And now… When my strength has ebbed out of me, when I’m flat on my back in the mud and battered by the elements, all I want is to see her one last time.
"Cade. Oh, my god, Cade!" I hear her voice as if from far away.
I suppose I lose consciousness for a few seconds. When I open my eyes, I see her beautiful face in front of my eyes. Or maybe, I’m dead and this is heaven and she’s the angel who’s guided me all my life. The raindrops bathe her face, and I reach up to touch her cheek. "Abby," my voice cracks. "My sweet Sparrow.
"Jesus, Cade, what were you thinking? Standing out here in the rain?"
"There’s nowhere else I want to be," I murmur.
She pulls my head into her lap. "What have you done to yourself?"
"Nothing I don’t deserve."
"You shouldn’t be here."
