AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I already thought he was dangerously handsome, but seeing him in the light confirms that he’s so much more handsome than I thought.
His sharp features and firm body make me think he might be in his thirties, maybe late thirties. And his eyes…
I’m all too familiar with the look of someone who’s experienced too much trauma. I see it every day when I look in the mirror. His eyes shine with a history I’m all too aware of.
A door bangs shut somewhere on my floor, reminding me that I’m not alone in this building.
I wonder if anyone else saw my mystery man as he left.
The thought has me finally pulling my eye away from the door and turning back toward the living room.
My limbs are still trembling, but I’m now able to stand upright on my own.
I’m halfway to the patio doors when I see that they’re already closed. I cross the rest of the distance and see that the latch has been flipped and the loose length of board has been laid back in the track. My poor man’s barricade.
It’s as secure as it’s ever gonna get, and yet…
My arms wrap around my body, fighting off a shiver.
I’d let the blanket drop when I climbed off the couch, and now a chill has seeped into the center of my body.
Payton.
The memory of him saying my name sends another shiver skittering across my skin.
The power of a name. It’s something so simple, but it can make you feel so exposed. He held the power the moment he walked through my patio door. Not knowing his name puts us on even more uneven ground. Because I have nothing to call him. Nothing to shout. Nothing to tell anyone.
Staring at the limp curtains, I wonder if maybe I made it all up. Maybe my mind has finally cracked. Maybe I was asleep the whole time. Dreamed him.
My hand reaches up to rub over the spot where his hand had been, on my exposed skin.
He can’t be fake. His touch was real. It has to be. Because the way my body reacted––that was real.
My nipples are tight against the thin fabric of my sleep shirt, making me all too aware of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra.
Jesus, who cares, Payton?
Plus I had the blanket pulled up, hiding my body from his view.
Except when I woke up, when his hand was against the base of my throat, his palm against my chest, the blanket wasn’t pulled up then.
Did he pull it away, or did I drop it?
I shake my head at that thought because I would’ve woken up if he’d pulled the blanket away.
But I didn’t.
I shake my head harder.
He didn’t touch me. Not likethat. I’d know.I’d know.
And why would he?
He’s so handsome. So large and masculine and pure male perfection. Someone like him would have no time for someone like me––soft and scared––who only runs when they’re running from the past.
I hug myself tighter.
Not now. I don’t have time for a mental breakdown now.
