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“The kid is a lot tougher than he lets on,” Nash says. “He’ll be okay.”
That much I know, but just because he can withstand a blow doesn’t mean he should have to.
Another blow, I guess. He’s already faced plenty from Jarvis. And his role in my career slide. And whatever happened just before he arrived.
Yet, despite all of this, he was willing to sacrifice even more to protect me.
I study the closed door to my room, my heart pinching in my chest. The worst part is he hasn’t said a word about any of it. He’s been bearing it all alone for heaven knows how long. How can it not be crushing him?
“He’s amazing,” I say quietly.
I feel Nash and Paige’s surprise but I don’t care. “Yeah, he’s a pretty great human being,” Paige says.
I nod, still staring at the door.
“You really love him,” Paige says softly.
I glance at her while something lodges behind my ribs. “Yeah, I think I really do.”
She pushes up from the couch and wraps me in a hug. After pulling back, she searches my eyes.
“He’s had it rough his whole life. He deserves someone amazing, and I think that someone could be you, just… please don’t hurt him.”
Don’t hurt him. Gosh, I’d rather poke out my own eyes, but what if I can’t help it? What if all the forces working against us prove to be too much? What if…
“Larinda?”
“I can’t promise he won’t get hurt, but I can promise I will do everything I can to prevent it.”
I hold my breath as Paige studies me.
After several seconds, she smiles.
“Good.” She turns to Nash. “Okay, that’s our cue. Let’s go, rockstar. This woman needs to do some stuff with my brother that I have no interest in witnessing or thinking about.”
I can’t help but giggle as Nash makes a face.
“Do you always have to say stuff in the weirdest way possible?” he mumbles, following his girlfriend to the door.
The water is still running by the time I return to my bedroom after ushering the others from the suite. I’ve never showered with Val, but I’ve spent enough time traveling and working with him to know he’s usually in and out.
Should I check on him?
He left the bathroom door open, so he can’t be too concerned about privacy. I approach the opening and do my best to survey the activity as discreetly as possible.
Steam obscures most of the glass wall of the shower, but I can still see his defeated silhouette. Head down, shoulders slouched, he’s not even moving as he stands beneath the spray.
Liar. He’s not okay.
I move through the door, and he immediately straightens.
“Almost done,” he shouts over the thunder of the water.
“Okay,” I shout back. “No rush. Just checking on you. You’ve been in here a while.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
He turns off the water and yanks the towel slung over the shower door.
