Page 109 of Words We Didn't Say

Sadness flickered through Zach’s eyes, and his bruised hand clutched mine, pressing it close to his heart. He pecked a kisson my fingertips. “Eden, if you’re really trying, I want you to consider talking to the police about what happened with Chris.”

“It was nothing—”

“A man touched you without your permission. He left bruises on you. That’ssomething. Bad men shouldn’t always win.”

“Will you go with me?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. No matter what. We’re a team, right?”

“Always.”

Zach gusted a sigh when I stroked my hand through his hair to pull him closer, capturing his perfect mouth. The kiss tasted like salty tears—his or mine, I wasn’t sure—but the urgent press of his lips was almost enough for me to forget.

Almost.

“Let me take care of you,” I whispered.

His big hand slid up my waist, a question in his eyes. I shook my head. For once, I wouldn’t try to solve our problems with sex. I tugged him to his feet and led him to the bathroom. When I flicked on the tap to fill the tub, fussing with the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot, he perched on the side. Sad eyes watched me as I tended to all the broken skin and tender bruising swelling his usually beautiful hands.

“You shouldn’t know how to do that so well,” Zach murmured, his voice barely rising above the roar of the water.

“We both got here walking a rocky path.”

“You know I’d never use my hands on you, right?”

I nodded.

Slowly, gently, I reached for him, unbuttoning his shirt, peeling the blood-stained clothes off his skin, stripping off my own, and coaxing him into the warm water. A bath bomb plopped in. The fizz of jasmine cleared the air. I slid into the tub behind him, soaped him up, and massaged the clenched muscles in his shoulders, the broad muscles pulled tight in his back, hisarms, until he melted against me. My arms wrapped around his chest.

It was intimate, but not sexual. Half-blind from tears, I let myself sink into the uncomfortable feeling. Actual, real, unconditional love. No trade-offs. No orgasms required. Zach in my arms was all I needed. He was safe there. I was happy.

We bobbed about in the bath, not saying anything, until the water turned cold. Then, armed with a fluffy towel, I patted him dry, combed his hair, and still as naked as the day we were born, I pulled back his crisp cotton sheets and encouraged him into bed so I could tuck him up tight.

Zach’s eyes drooped. “Denny Dee.” He reached for me. “I don’t want it to be o…” He never finished what he was going to say. All the worry creasing his brow finally disappeared when he drifted to sleep.

I sat on the edge of the bed, soothing soft swirls over his back, but I stared out the balcony doors at the moonless harbour.

No stars tonight.

No way to wish away his worries. This part of loving someone was so hard. To see him suffering but be unable to do anything but simplybe there… It tugged at my heart. Made me feel helpless. Useless. Yet, my feet stayed stuck. I didn’t run.

When Zach stirred, his hand searching for me on the pillow, I curled my body around his and listened to the steady thump of his heart under my cheek. My own heart thunked along with it. I only untangled myself when I ducked into the living room to call his parents—they needed to know he was okay—and to pop to the front door to collect the food Andie and Yvette left outside.

I shuffled back to the bedroom and slipped under the sheets, my breath catching when Zach rolled over. A rough palm curved over my hip.

“Come closer, Denny Dee,” his sleepy voice commanded.

I scooted along the cool cotton.

“Closer,” he whispered.

I wriggled a little more. Soft skin fused with hard.

He sighed. “Better.”

His lips found my neck, the bristles on his jaw grazing against the tender skin before he nipped a bite. “Yeah.” A hand drifted from my hip to cover my breast. “This is what I need.” He kneaded my nipple between his fingers. Bent down. Kissed it next. He moaned when he followed that with a torturous lick that made me gasp.

“You play by my rules tonight,” he murmured. “Which are actually your rules.” A laugh rumbled over my skin. “Usually.”

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