The front door slams before I can probe further, leaving me with the echo of her obvious lie.Well...okay then.
Back in the kitchen, the coffee machine's familiar hum fills the silence.As rich coffee streams into my mug, the hair on my nape prickles.I'm not alone anymore.
"Coffee?"I ask without turning.
"Why the hell was I sleeping in your bed?"
I turn, coffee in hand, and my mouth goes dry.Even disheveled, she's devastating.Alisha stands in my kitchen doorway, all sleep-mussed blonde waves and crossed arms that push her breasts higher in that tight top.Her nipples strain against the fabric, and I force my gaze back to her face before I embarrass myself.
"Stop staring, Walker, and start answering my question," she demands, but accepts the coffee I offer with greedy hands.
Here's the next section with enhanced emotional depth and tension:
I chuckle and turn to make myself another coffee."I didn't want to leave you alone after what happened last night."When I face her again, she's perched on a barstool, tracing the rim of her mug with trembling fingers, gaze fixed on the dark liquid like it holds answers.
"Did we sleep in the same bed?"
My mind floods with images from last night—her restless movements, the way she'd murmur incoherent pleas every few minutes.Each time, I'd stroke her back, whisper "You're safe" until she settled.After two hours on her couch, I'd tried to carry her to her bed, but her broken whisper stopped me cold: "Please, don't leave me."Those four words made it impossible to abandon her, so I'd brought her here, to my bed, where I could keep her safe.
I study the coffee in my hand, avoiding her questioning eyes."No, I took the couch."
"Oh."Pink stains her cheeks as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.Adorable."Honestly, I slept amazingly in your bed.Usually, the nightmares..."She swallows hard."But last night, nothing."
"Did you sleep okay on the couch?"
I clear my throat, deflecting."I called the police station.They're expecting us at ten."
Her shoulders tense."Cole, that wasn't necessary."
"Yes, it was."Steel creeps into my voice."I want them to take you seriously.I made sure there's an officer ready to talk when we arrive.We leave at 9:30—be ready."
"Jesus."She slams her mug down."Stop acting like 'mother the hen.'I don't need a babysitter.I can handle this myself."
Is she for real?I close the distance between us in two strides, satisfaction curling in my gut when her pupils dilate.My fingers catch her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze.The air crackles between us.
"Drop the 'I'm fine' act.Because you, Alex, are far from fine."
She slaps my hand away and slides off the stool, putting two feet of space between us.Fire blazes in those emerald eyes."Back off."
"No."I plant my feet."You need a reality check.You're hiding."
"Hiding what!"The words explode from her.
"Your real feelings.You're acting like you didn't have a full-blown panic attack twelve hours ago.If I hadn't been there—" My voice roughens."You'd have been lying on that floor all night.You need to talk to someone, Alex."
"Oh, fuck this."She jabs her finger into my chest."Now you sound like everyone else.I don't fucking need a psychologist.I'll deal with this my way, so...Butt.Out."
"No chance, Alex.Not after I goddamn held you all night."
Her eyes go wide."But you said—"
"I lied, okay?"The truth bursts out."We slept in the same bed.You passed out in my arms on your couch, nightmares tormenting you every few minutes.When I tried to leave you in your bed, you begged me to stay.So don't tell me you're okay, Alex."
Color drains from her face."Fuck you," she snarls and bolts.I follow her through the hallway to the bedroom, where she stops at the window, shoulders rigid.I position myself behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body.
"Alex, there's no shame in needing help."I keep my voice soft, but firm."Everyone needs help sometimes."
"Don't."Her fingers curl into fists."Don't talk like you understand.It's not like you've ever seen a soul pincher."A bitter laugh escapes her.
