“No,” I admit. “I don’t.”
“I’m not delicate, Silas.” Despite the softness of her voice, there’s a core of steel deep beneath her words.
“I know.”
“So tell me what you keep thinking, that you don’t think I can handle. Because I promise you, I can.” It’s as bold and forward as she’s ever been.
I look into her eyes, the quicksilver of them complex and deep, pulling me in, drowning me in their beautiful abyssal depths. “I…it’s dangerous for me to hold your hand.”
“Dangerous? For me, or you? Why? How?”
“For you. Because I…I’m not good, Naomi. I’m…I want…I want things that you…” I shake my head, sigh. “After everything you’ve been through, the way you’ve been abused your whole life, the last thing you need is a selfish piece of shit like me putting the moves on you because I’m too weak to control myself.” I shoot to my feet and stalk into the bathroom. “Gotta take a piss.”
I close the door behind me. I take my time, breathing slowly to force the whirlwind of emotions back down into their cage where they belong.
I can’t have her. Not like that.
She’s still there at the foot of the bed when I emerge. I skirt wide around her and move the side of the bed, stretching out on the bed. I’m still in my jeans, but I’ve decided to leave them on. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, on letting sleep move through me, wash over me.
I’m drifting, dozing. I feel the bed move, lifting as she stands. Hear the bathroom door close. Silence. Flush. Faucet running. Silence. Door opens. I hear the click of a light switch, and the sense of the light on my eyelids vanishes.
The bed dips. I feel her cautiously lying down beside me.
“Are you awake?” she whispers.
“Mmm.”
“It can’t be comfortable to sleep in your jeans,” she murmurs.
“Mmm.”
“Silas.”
I crack my eyes open and roll to my side. The room is dark, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust—I can see her eyes shining in the dim sliver of light streaming through a two-inch crack in the curtains.
“What, Naomi?”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Maybe you should be.”
“Will you hurt me?”
“Never.”
“Will you force me to do something I don’t want to?”
“Never.”
“Then why should I be afraid of you?”
“Because I want things, Naomi.”
“What things?”
I shake my head. “Don’t ask that.”
She shimmies closer. I can feel her breath. I can smell her intoxicating scent. Feel warmth radiating from her skin. I grit my teeth and clench my hand into a fist to keep myself from touching her.
