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“Of course you do. I figured I could get you a pair of my clothes, so you’ll be more comfortable,” Rafael said, and I could feel his gaze on me as we made our way up the stairs. “It’s not cold enough in here for your sweater, boots, or jeans.”
“I’m fine, thanks.” I didn’t look his way.
“I was planning on staying the night here—does that work for you?”
“Since when do you care what works for me?”
There was a moment of tense silence.
We finally reached the bathroom, and I stepped inside, smoothly closing the door behind me. He caught it just before it shut, opening it just enough that our eyes met.
“I know I’ve fucked this up,” he said, his voice low. “I spent the last year in a cell with a fire troll, starving, sweating, and in pain. Believe me, I know I’ve fucked up in every way a person can. I’m sorry that you’ve been dragged into it, and I will do everything I can to make it up to you, but right now, I’m a mess. I’m sorry you’re dealing with it, but that’s the truth.”
As much as I didn’t like it, I appreciated his blunt honesty. After a moment of silence, he released his hold on the door.
I remained where I was for a minute before finally saying, “I’ll take a pair of your clothes, and spend the night here. One night, in separate beds. Maybe that will help you settle.”
He dipped his head. “Thank you. I hope it will. Give me a second, and I’ll be back with the clothes.”
Rafael disappeared.
Less than a minute later, he was back with a small, folded pile of clothing. “I’m not sure what will fit.”
“I’ll make it work. Thanks.” I took the pile, then stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. Letting out a long breath, I closed my eyes and leaned against the thick wood.
I didn’t really want to take a shower. I just needed space and time away from the demons to process everything that had happened, and I hadn’t been able to come up with another way to get that.
So, to the shower I went.
four
RAFAEL
“I hope you apologized,at the very least,” Bash said, whisking something in a bowl.
“I did.” I plopped down on one of the barstools. “Tell me you didn’t eat all the chocolate.”
Every fucking inch of my body hurt. I had never felt like I was dying before our government threw me in their prison, but after a year in hell, I was far too well acquainted with the feeling.
Dropping my head into my hands, I let out a long breath.
I had tracked Tatum down one day, before the dragons hauled my ass to prison, just to get a look at her. I’d wanted an idea of what I would be getting myself into.
Though I’d only been there fifteen minutes, it was long enough to learn that she had a laid-back sarcasm that made her coworkers laugh. That she would remember the most complex, obnoxious coffee orders and make them without batting an eyelash. That she would hand the drinks off with a smile that didn’t quite reach her gorgeous green eyes.
I’d held on to the image of her in my mind, obsessing over the poor woman while I suffered. Her reddish-brown hair and cream-colored skin lingered in my thoughts and dreams constantly.
Somehow, she was even more gorgeous than I remembered.
…And she hated me more than I ever expected.
“We ate all the chocolate,” Zander said. I heard his ass hit the stool beside mine, and the computer and phone followed.
“Fuck you.”
“If you had played your cards right a few hours ago, you could be fuckingher,” he countered.
“I don’t have the energy to fuck anyone right now.”
