We both knew I was full of shit.
“I just, I wanted to say thank you.” I stopped talking and wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I can’t promise because you’re pretty much all I have left right now. But I’m going to try my best to figure out a way to get my life together so I don’t have to depend on you too much, okay?” I rushed out, looking at him closely as I used my shoulder to brush my eyes too.
Those purple irises lingered on my face.
I tried to smile. “I can’t carry you and run for miles at a time, but if there’s ever anything I can do, anything I can help you with, you can count on me.”
My loyalties were to him. He was the one I’d been through everything with. He was the one who hadn’t left me when he easily could have a thousand times. The one who had split food with me and found water when I was pretty sure he didn’t need it the same way I did. He’d said his kind repaid debts, and maybe I didn’t feel like we were remotely the same, but my kind—me—repaid hers too.
“You? Help me?” he asked, not sarcastically or unkindly.
“Well, it’s not going to be your imaginary friend doing it,” I snickered. “All right?”
“If I say yes, will you quit fucking crying?”
I nodded, as he stepped back, then started to move around to the other side of the room.
What the hell was he doing?
I pulled the comforter up to my neck and watched as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, showing me… showing me the most incredible body in possibly the world.
It hit me then I hadn’t masturbated in forever. When he’d been staying with me, I’d managed to sneak in a rub or two in the shower while he’d slept, being as quiet as possible.
I was like a person lost in the desert, seeing water for the first time.
Supple muscles lined his chest and arms. Sleek, hard ones formed abs that would make a washboard jealous. A dark sprinkling of hair trailed from his belly button down into the formfitting sweatpants he had on.
But…
“What are you doing?” I croaked as he pulled the comforter back.
He slipped into the bed. “You’re still sick, and I want to go to sleep.”
I must have made a face of not understanding because he gave me another one of his long looks as he settled in.
He blew out one of his exasperated breaths while he was at it. “Do you remember when you were out of it and you were up against me all that time?”
He was talking about the bare-chested cuddling. I nodded. I was never going to forget that. I was going to be ninety and thinking about it.
“There’s something in us that speeds up healing, like you figured out,” he said. “In close proximity, it can affect others.”
Ohhhhh.
Oh, oh, oh.
So it hadn’t been cuddling to make me feel better. He had been trying to actually help me. Heal me.
I almost felt disappointed.
Almost.
That comforter got dragged up his chest as he kept explaining. “You’re still sick; I can smell it. I know you’ve been trying to tough it out. You need to go to the doctor,” he went on, giving me one more long look. “And you said you didn’t want to be alone.”
“I…” I mean… I had said that. He was right.
We were adults. I didn’t need a pillow wall between us. We weren’t five. I’d gladly slept on top of him while we’d been in the woods. And if I was overwhelmed at his generosity, then that was on me. He was going out of his way to be nice.
I nodded slowly, seeing him again through another lens. He really was a grumpy son of a bitch with a heart of gold. He tried to hide it, but it was clear as day.
“Okay. And you’re right, I should go to a doctor. I’ve felt like a garbage can on fire.” Setting my shoulders, I nodded at him. “Thank you for everything.”
I was glad I didn’t expect anything because that was exactly what I got.
Alex looked at me, and from one yawn to another, he rolled onto his side, away from me, without another word.
Not a “you’re welcome,” a “no problem,” nothing.
I’d never admit it, but I felt pretty relieved having him here.
Old grumpy ass.
Because I could have done a lot worse.
“Gracie,” he said suddenly. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re safe.”
I could have done a hell of a lot worse.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Rolling over the next morning, I blinked blearily at the bare back inches away from my face, and then at the unfamiliar room around me.
The smooth skin… it was Alex. We were at his house.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I immediately regretted when it hurt. I rolled over and rubbed at my face, taking in the light coming in around the curtains. What time is it? I wondered as my stomach growled, reminding me of how erratically we’d been eating for days. The one thing I didn’t need a reminder for was that every single part of my body ached, inside and out.
He was right about me needing to go see a doctor. I’d woken up in the middle of the night, sweating, sure my fever was still lurking. I couldn’t get sick anymore. I was fucking tired of it.
Rolling out of bed, I tiptoed out and shut the door as quietly as possible, even though according to what he wanted everyone to believe, he was fully aware at all times. I crept down the stairs, hearing noises coming from the kitchen. It was Selene in there, at the table, talking steadily into a cell phone, an empty plate in front of her.
Her bright blue eyes came to mine, and she smiled before pointing toward dishes piled with eggs, waffles, and breakfast sausages on the island, then at the cupboards.
It took me a long time to find the cabinet with dishes, one with cups, and another with cutlery. All of it was nice too, heavy and not at all like the lightweight stuff that wouldn’t break if it was dropped from a third story that I toted around. That I’d toted around. In the past.
It was all gone now after all.
I filled up the glass I’d had to go to my tippy toes to reach and gulped one down before refilling it with water from a filter on the counter. After filling up my plate, I stood there and ate slowly, savoring everything. I was so hungry, and my head was starting to hurt. I’d left the painkillers upstairs.
And what time was it?
I glanced at the microwave and jerked.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Selene said into the phone a moment before hanging up. “Hi, Gracie,” she greeted. “How’d you sleep?”
“Hi,” I told her, clutching my fork. “Really well. Is it really two?”
“Yes. If it makes you feel any better, I woke up at noon, and I haven’t been on the run for days,” she told me easily. “You both looked like you needed the rest.” Her crazy blue eyes flicked toward the ceiling. “He can go a few days without sleeping, but once it catches up to him, it hits him hard.”
“And here I was worried he has a sleeping disorder,” I told her, at ease but still a little uncertain about her. It was weird talking to a stranger, especially about The Defender. “He looked like hell for a while,” I told her. “I don’t think he’s slept much in days.” Possibly longer than that.