Just like before, but I’m starting to see a totally different meaning where this man is concerned.
“Nothing,” I whisper, leaning into his touch. “I’m okay.”
“No you’re not.” His brows furrow and he grimaces, moving to clean my hair but he doesn't call attention to the mess I made. “Feel fuckin’ terrible, baby. You’re sick, miserable, and on the cold floor. Let me help you.”
Kade pauses, eyes meeting mine, and the earnest look in his stormy iris’ makes my heart swoon and soar all at once. I can feel my walls shaking, trembling with the need to let him in, but it’s so damn hard.
I’m terrified of what’ll happen when I finally do—and finally, because at this point, I know it’s only a matter of time before he wins.
And as if he can see the battle happening inside me, can hear all my protests, he cups my jaw tenderly and says the one thing I’m helpless to resist.
“Please, darlin’. Just let me carry this. Can’t take your pain, but I can take the weight of havin’ to do it alone. You’ve done enough all by yourself. Time to let someone else stand beside you.”
Beside me. Not in front of me. Not without me.
Beside me. Like a partner. A team. A family.
The words hit harder than I want to admit. Because he’s not wrong. I’ve been doing this—all of this—alone for so long I forgot what it feels like to have help that doesn’t come with strings, or pity, or the expectation that I’ll owe them for it later.
Foster homes. College. Diagnosis. Grief. Work. Survival.
Every heartbreak, every hospital visit, every gut-wrenching flare, I’ve faced with no one but myself and a too-heavy bag ofjust in casesupplies.
No one’s ever said that to me before.
That it’s okay to be tired. To not hold everything together. That maybe I deserve to rest too.
And God… how badly I want to believe him.
“I’d love that, but…” My throat tightens, and I feel the words before I can say them, “But you don’thaveto.”
“I know,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “But I want to, because I wantyou.”
Something cracks inside me—a slow, splintering release of years of being strong because I had no other choice.
And for the first time in maybe forever…
I don’t feel so alone.
But…
Sighing, I can’t help the small smile that curves my lips, or keep the embarrassment from my cheeks. With a slow, defeated but giddy nod, I press my palm against his hand on my cheek, thanking him the only way I can.
“What I really need,” I murmur, brain swimming and spinning all at once. “Is the pill container in my purse. It’s pink, you can’t miss it.”
He nods sharply, face serious, like he’s making a mental list, and against my will, I smile.
“What else?”
“Water, please, and then, uh…” I thought I couldn’t get any redder, but then I have to squeak out, “Someprivacy.”
“Privacy? What the hell for?”
God, he sounds and looks adorable when he’s confused and possessive, but this is the last thing I ever wanted to have to say to a man, especially Kade Archer.
“Kade,” I whisper-hiss, eyes wide, body vibrating with humiliation. “My stomach is rioting right now. What I need is privacy, extremely loud music—but not too loud because myhead is killing me, some incredible-smelling room spray, and for this to not be happening, but we’re here now.Get it?”
It takes a second, but then it clicks, and when it does, this foolishly wonderful, asshole of a man rolls his eyes and sighs, long and loud, like I’m the one being dramatic.
