Page 91 of The Wedding Engagement

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “I understand.”

Her being felt lighter, as if speaking her most private thoughts had banished an inner demon. But it had sucked all the energy from her, leaving her physically and emotionally drained. “I’m so tired,” she sighed into his chest.

He rubbed her back. “I can drive you home, in your car. I’ll get a taxi back again.”

She shook her head against his chest, then lifted it to meet his gaze. “Please can I stay here?”

He wiped the final smears of moisture from her cheeks, a soft expression on his face as he nodded. “Of course you can. Anything you want.”

She searched his eyes. “Will you stay with me? I don’t want to sleep alone.”

His voice was gentle as he held her gaze. “I will.”

He stood and lifted her to her feet, but her legs buckled. Everything felt like it had turned to jelly, and suddenly the bedroom seemed awfully far away.

Arran scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the studio and up the stairs into his room, where he gently deposited her on the bed. Then he got out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts for her to wear.

He left for the bathroom to change and brush his teeth, knocking on the door before he came back out, to make sure she’d finished changing.

Liv vaguely registered that he was wearing black boxer briefs and a dark T-shirt, before half stumbling into the bathroom to wash her face and use some mouthwash. She could have sworn she completed the walk from the en suite back to the bed already asleep.

Arran turned off the bedside lamp and cuddled her. His torso felt firm and defined through his soft T-shirt, and she snuggled in tightly. “I never told anyone that stuff before,” she said, her eyes already closed.

“I know, Aggie,” he whispered. “I’m glad you told me.”

“Me too,” she breathed, her consciousness drifting away.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

He could smell her again.Why was that? Through the sleepy haze he tried to recall if he still had Liv’s T-shirt on his radiator.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the beautiful sight of her sleeping, her face only inches away and the heat of her hand wrapped with his.

Arran lifted his head and very gently touched his lips to the tip of her nose. The feeling was still there, the one that had been swelling for months, then snowballing acutely for the past few weeks. The need to protect her. To support and nourish her.

Now that she’d confided in him, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t worked it out before. Deep down, she was terrified of being like her father. Despite the fact that Liv and her empathetic ways were the polar opposite of dickhead Dave, it kind of didn’t surprise him that she was worried about that. Not because she was anything like her dad, but because it was typical of her to worry about everyone’s feelings, how the way she acted affected them, to agonize and punish herself over how others felt. And that would be why she hadn’t told anyone before. Too afraid of upsetting her loved ones. And it didn’thelp that her mum fueled Liv’s instinct to keep any negative thoughts to herself and chastised her for assertive behavior.

Liv was so strong and put together that everyone forgot to look out for her. A meme he’d seen online came to mind—Remember to check on your strong friend.

She stirred, and when she opened her eyes, she gave him the most beautiful smile, which melted his heart.

“Morning.” She stretched, keeping her hand entwined with his. “Thanks for letting me stay over. And allowing me to nick half the bed.”

Arran grinned, feeling like he hadn’t smiled properly in weeks. “Delighted to have you.”

Shuffling a little closer, she lifted their hands to kiss the back of his, and the feel of her soft lips on his skin sent a red-hot thrill right into his belly. “I feel so much better for having told you all that.”

He lifted his other hand to brush her hair from her face, letting his fingers settle in her soft curls. “I do too. Thank you for telling me.”

Liv smiled. “I was worried you might think I was unhinged or an evil bitch, and not want to be my friend anymore.”

He laughed. “You could tell me you’d murdered someone and I’d still be your friend. I’d even volunteer to help you bury the body.”

She joined in his laughter, and the sound of it was like the sun shining on him. “Don’t worry, whoever I murdered would deserve it.” She arched a brow and he knew exactly whom she was referring to. Then her smile fell slightly. “Can I tell you something else?”

He nodded, the warm privileged feeling that she was trusting him settling like a cocoon around his heart. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and let his fingers rest in her hair.

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