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“Embarrassed more than anything.” She stands at the edge of the bed and picks up the blanket like she’s about to slip between the sheets, but she ends up twisting the fabric in her hand instead.
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.” I pat the mattress. “Come here.”
“I mean with Libby.” She waves her hand in the air. “Finding you here…Again.”
I’m not quite sure what to say. I’m sure as fuck not leaving when she still seems so rattled.
“Well, she was surprised to see me, so I guess that means she didn’t hear us before,” I say, hoping to ease at least one of her concerns.
A smile flickers over her lips, so quick I almost miss it and she nods.
Finally, she crawls into bed. When she’s close enough, I wrap an arm around her waist and haul her over my lap. “That’s better.” I brush her hair off her cheek. “Talk to me.”
To my relief, she relaxes, resting her cheek against my chest. She curls her body against mine. I hug her tighter and rest my chin on the top of her head.
“This is nice,” she murmurs. Her warm breath ghosts over my skin. “Thank you. I…I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
She rubs her hands over my arm, as if she’s trying to reassure herself I’m still here.
“Tell me what your nightmare was about.” Maybe purging it from her memory will give it less power.
Her body stiffens, like a cat about to leap from danger.
I keep the circle of my arms around her tight.
“I can’t talk about it right now,” she whispers. “Just hold me.”
Those three little words wrap themselves around my heart and squeeze. “You got it.” I kiss the top of her head.
I won’t push. Not tonight.
But eventually, I’ll unlock all of her secrets and help her fight the monsters lurking in her past.
* * *
I wakea few hours later and ease myself out of bed. Emily’s sound asleep and I take a second to appreciate her sprawled out, face turned to one side and cheek pressed to the sheet. After the night she had, I can’t bring myself to do anything to pull her from sleep. She should always look so peaceful.
I tug on my jeans and quietly slip out the bedroom door.
Downstairs, in the kitchen, I find Libby sitting by the window, quietly spooning mouthfuls of cereal. Feeling like a burglar who’s been caught, I stop mid-stride.
Libby flashes an easy smile. “Morning, Dex.”
“Hey, kiddo.” What time does she leave for school? Does Emily drive her? Why don’t I know these things? “You need a ride to school?”
Her eyes widen with interest. “On your bike?”
“Uh, yeah.” I swish my arms through the air like a giant bird. “I can’t fly you there.”
She chuckles, then tilts her head. “I don’t know if Emily will let me ride on a motorcycle.”
Good point. I probably should’ve cleared that with Emily first. By sixteen, I already had my first motorcycle—had laid it down too. But Emily seems to keep Libby a bit sheltered and it’s not my place to interfere.
“You need anything for breakfast?” I don’t know why I feel so compelled to dosomething. Obviously, Libby’s capable of feeding herself.
She holds out her bowl and gives her spoon a slow, sarcastic tap against the side.
