AllFreeNovel
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“That was before you asked me why you aren’t enough.”
My body tried to deflate and stiffen all at once. All it did was dislodge his light grasp and make me teeter at the top of the stairs.
His arm slid around my middle, tugging me into the protection of his body, surrounding me with that thing I craved most.
Safe, secure, sheltered.
I sank into him, trying to absorb it all, hoping I could store it away for when I might need it later. His arm tightened around me, a strap around my waist, anchoring me against him as he walked backward into his room with me going along for the ride.
Once inside, he let me go to close us in quietly as I glanced at the rumpled blankets on the bed. I was still gazing at it, imagining the way we looked straining against each other in the center, when he stepped in front of me to hold out an object.
I glanced at it, then lifted my eyes to his.
“I own one,” he mused, dimples appearing.
I ripped the brush from his hand and pushed him toward the bed. He sat on the end, and for some unknown reason, I stepped close and started brushing his hair.
Humming low in his throat, he relaxed his shoulders, and his lashes lowered against his cheeks. I kept brushing, cradling the back of his head with my empty hand and dragging the brush slowly through his tangled, damp hair.
As I brushed, I noted the way his hands clenched and unclenched against his thighs, making me feel he was silently battling with himself. I said nothing, just continued brushing, waiting him out. He was the one that asked to talk, and that meant I was here to listen.
Oddly, for as loud and boisterous as Win was, my quietness never seemed to put him off. He never acted like it was uncomfortable or strange. He never asked me why I said so little or questioned my lack of animation.
It took me a while to realize he didn’t question my silence because he was confident in himself. He didn’t need me to fill my silence so he could feel at ease. He wasn’t intimidated because he realized that my silence was not about him. It was just who I was. And that was okay.
I wished I was as confident as him because as I stood here, I questioned myself. What I knew. Who I was.
All the tangles in his hair were gone, his hair brushed into submission in barely anytime at all, but I continued the task because the repetitive motion was soothing somehow.
“My parents died when I was seventeen.” Win’s solemn voice made the brush pause. His shoulders tightened toward his ears. The instant I started combing again, his shoulders relaxed and his voice filled the room again.
“It was a car accident. My dad died instantly. But Mom…” He cleared his throat. “She died a few days later at the hospital.”
“Jag är ledsen,” I whispered.
“I hope you’re talking nice to me right now, angel.”
I jolted, realizing I’d spoken in Swedish. “I’m sorry.” I spoke again, this time so he could understand.
“I knew what you said,” he mused.
“How?”
He chuckled, the sound tightening my stomach. “Maybe not the words. But the tone. Your voice… it speaks a language all its own.”
He listens with his heart too.
“Go on,” I said, refusing to show just how much he made me ache.
“After that, it was just me, Max, and Wes. Wes is younger, so me and Max took care of him.”
I hummed. “You are very protective of him.”
“He and Max are all I have. About a year after they died, Wes came out to some friends. They beat him into a coma.”
The brush slipped out of my hand, sliding off his shoulder and hitting the floor with a thud.
“I slept beside his hospital bed for a week. We weren’t even sure he’d wake up.”
