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Thirty-Three
Emilia layrestless in the unfamiliar bed, the scent of clean linen all around her. She knew the sheets were clean because she’d watched—arms crossed and scowl pointed at Blaine—as he’d made the bed for her earlier. Now the clock on the nightstand said 3:14 a.m., and she still hadn’t slept.
A washed-out blue glow spilled in through her slightly ajar door, frosted moonlight infiltrating from a skylight in the hallway. She shifted under her weighty bedspread, trying for the millionth time to get comfortable, her hair ruffling against her pillow, and a pang of sadness diluting her earlier anger.
She’d been too mad, too stubborn, even as she’d recognized Blaine was only looking out for her. She’d also directed her temper at the wrong man.
And that temper hadn’t gotten her anywhere because lying in Blaine’s house gave her a sense of relief only surpassed by lying in his arms. She was safe, and she wasn’t alone.
Her eyes settled on the gray ceiling, an almighty shudder washing through her body, her insides queasy because she’d have to wait several more hours before she could apologize and put things right with him.
Oh God, and he even threatened to tie me to his bed…
She didn’t know whether to laugh at that or succumb to the wild flutter in her heart.
“Can’t sleep?”
She startled and turned to find Blaine standing in her doorway, the gentle light outlining his strong and masculine silhouette. He wore nothing but navy-blue boxer shorts and delightfully messed hair, her mouth parched just looking at him. “No. I wish I could. Why are you awake?”
And how long have you been watching me?
“Thought I’d check on you.” His smoky tone sent tingles through her body, his crossed arms accentuating his broad shoulders and defined biceps. “Still mad at me?”
To her horror, he strode toward her bed and sat on the edge, a crooked smile on his face.
She turned her chin up, so she could pretend to explore the roof’s shadows, trying and failing to still the drum of her heart. “I’m not mad.”
He raised a brow, perhaps not all that convinced. “You’ve got a strange way of displaying happiness.”
She blinked into the semi-darkness, her throat scratchy. “I’m not happy, either.”
He touched her arm, now bare from the oversized t-shirt he’d made her put on since she couldn’t go home to get any pajamas. “I can see that. You know, I’m only trying to help, right?”
She let out a sigh, still refusing to look at him. Again, not out of anger, but because every time he stared at her with that lowered and concerned look of his, she was confronted with the truth that, once again, she’d pulled him into a dangerous situation. “Yeah. I get it.”
“Then, what’s happening here, Emilia? Get whatever’s upsetting you out.”
“I feel stuck.”
“Because I made you stay?”
“No. But thank you for that, either way.” Rough tension abraded her throat, scrubbing at her words as she tried to speak them. “Because for all I’ve done to move on with my life, I’m still not living. Leaving LA only fixed some of my problems, but I’m still trapped. I’m still looking over my shoulder and holding myself back because one man can’t deal with his grandiose sense of entitlement.”
Blaine smoothed her hair, and she turned to find his eyes glittering forest green at her against the low light. “For what it’s worth, this standoff with Anthony will end, eventually. And in the meantime, there’s nothing wrong with accepting a little help. We all need it, sometimes.”
She held his gaze for a long and quiet moment, a smile pulling at her lips. Somehow, his words did make her feel better.
“Thank you.” Her gratitude came in the form of a whisper, and she meant every syllable and intention behind it. “The whole process of starting over would have been a lot harder without you, but I can’t help but mourn the loss of my dreams. Dreams that will remain just dreams until he’s found.”
“I know. I know.” He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “You’re stronger than you think. Hell, you got yourself out of LA, and that’s no easy feat. You’re going to get through this, just like you got through the rest. And then if we’re super lucky, we’ll finally be just a normal, boring couple, who doesn’t have a deranged man-child out on the loose probably looking to cause us harm.”
“Us?” Her voice caught in her throat.
“Yes, us. So, it’s time you stopped acting like you’re on your own.” His hand landed on her shoulder, and he gave a firm, reassuring squeeze. “I’m here. Whatever happens, we’re in this together now.”
“And what if they never find Anthony? What if he gets to me first? I don’t want you to get tangled in this.”
“It’s too late for that. I’m already tangled. I have been for a decade now. You think if I didn’t happen across Anthony at any other point in my life, I wouldn’t kick his ass simply for what he did to us all those years ago? And whether Anthony is a problem or not, I’d still love you, Emilia. I’m not bowing out just because things are a little rough. He won’t hurt you, not if I can help it.”
