Joy.
He’d been here every night she’d worked since the attack, regardless of whether he’d had a shift or not, but had mostly kept his distance. He didn’t know if it was guilt or something deeper driving him. Maybe both. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave her to walk home alone, even if she didn’t know he was watching.
Hell, he wasn’t sure she even wanted him around at all. Deep down, she had to blame him—at least partly—for what had happened that night. If he’d just let their kiss turn into everything it had promised to become instead of playing the noble hero…
The door creaked open, pulling him back from his thoughts. There she was, shrugging into her coat, her petite frame swallowed by the oversized denim jacket. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze darting into the darkness, head jerking back and forth, looking for some unknown predator.
She did that nearly every night. And it had punched him in the gut every time to see it.
Joy had been fearless her whole life, the girl who rode her bike too fast and laughed too loud. The one who rarely ever stopped to think of the consequences of any given action.
Now, she was unnaturally cautious, her confidence replaced by unease.
He wasn’t sure what caused him to move tonight rather than stay in the shadows. Maybe seeing how she’d struggled when those glasses had shattered. Maybe it was because he just couldn’t stand it any longer.
Her steps faltered the moment he moved into the light. Her eyes widened, her body tensing like a startled deer ready to bolt. His gut clenched at the fear flickering across her face.
“Sorry, Bug,” he said quickly, using the familiar nickname from when she was a kid, keeping his tone low and calm. He raised his hands slightly, palms out, hoping to ease her. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
She exhaled sharply, clutching her bag tighter to her chest. “Bear?” Her voice was wary. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” he admitted. “I wanted to walk you home.”
Her brows knit together, the wary look melting into something closer to irritation. “I don’t need you to?—”
“I know you don’t,” he interrupted gently. “But humor me, okay? It’s late.”
She shifted on her feet, the spark of the old Joy—the one who wouldn’t take anyone’s crap—flickering for just a moment. But then it slid away as she sighed. “It’s only a few blocks.”
“And I’m only a few steps behind you.” He tried for a grin, but her lack of response made it falter.
His heart twisted as he watched her, so different from the vibrant, mischievous girl he’d known his whole life. She wasn’t supposed to look this small. This uncertain. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of the shadows—or him.
Hell, this woman wasn’t supposed to be afraid of anything.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said again. “Won’t happen again.”
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, though she still avoided his gaze. “You didn’t scare me.”
That was a lie, but Bear didn’t call her on it. He just waited as she nodded, brushed past him, and started walking. “All right. If you want to waste time walking me home, you can, Bollinger.”
“It’s not a waste, but yes, I do.” He fell into step beside her.
The quiet streets of Oak Creek stretched before them, lit only by the occasional streetlamp. He matched his longer strides to her shorter ones, aware of every sound, every shadow, around them. Not that such diligence was necessary. Joy’s incident notwithstanding, there wasn’t a lot of violence in Oak Creek.
“Although I suppose I could be persuaded to carry you piggyback home instead,” he said. “For old times’ sake. Or run full speed. Skip. Hell, karate-kick down the block.”
She’d been known for all those things. He remembered her skipping around him as they’d walked home just a month ago.
She snorted. “In your dreams. I’m not eight anymore, you know.”
Yeah, he’d definitely fucking noticed.
What he wouldn’t give to hear her laugh for real again. To see that dazzling, slightly wicked grin light up her face as she tossed out some sassy remark. She’d always burned so bright. Brave and wild and full of life. It killed him to see her dimmed like this, the shadows under her eyes almost as dark as the purple bruises that had marred her jaw for two weeks from where that bastard had hit her.
Anger boiled in his blood again, and Bear forced it down hard. He had to stay calm for her. Be the steady, solid presence she needed right now. Even if it meant locking away all the violent feelings churning through him.
Even if it meant just being her friend, when they’d been at the precipice of being so much more.
