Page 114 of Saving Her

“It keeps me busy.” I bite my lip, hesitant to expose my vulnerabilities. “My hands and my mind.”

“Well, I’ll buy you a gaming console. You can button bash for a while instead of getting cleaner’s elbow.”

“No, thank you. I’m not a gamer.” I take another step, the intoxicating earthy smell of his aftershave sinking into my lungs. It’s everywhere. In every breath. “What are you doing?” I continue to the bed and focus on the mess covering the mattress.

“Tidying up crap I had lying around.” He begins shoving things into bags, his movements agitated.

Something has changed. Something’s made him uncomfortable.

“I’ve overstepped.” My thoughts become words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have intruded on your private space.”

“You haven’t.” He keeps shoving, shoving, shoving the items of clothing. “Give me a second and I’ll have this all bagged up.”

No, I’ve definitely triggered his annoyance. I can see it in the way his usually graceful moves have become jerky.

I retreat a step, preparing to leave.

“Penny, I’m serious. Don’t go.” He meets my gaze, his intense eyes holding mine. Demanding. “You’ve barely sought me out since we got here. Don’t leave me now.”

I don’t want to. It seems like I’ve reached some sort of threshold by walking into his room. But… “Why does it feel like I’ve done something wrong?”

“You haven’t. It’s me.” He waves a hand at the items scattered over the bed. “I’m the one making it feel weird in here.”

“Why?”

He straightens, sucking in a frustrated breath. “I don’t know.”

“Are these things sentimental?” I lower my focus to the bags. “Do they belong to a girlfriend? Or an ex? Is that why—”

“No. I bought all this for you.”

I tense.

Freeze.

The only movement I feel is the rampant beat of my heart.

The reminder of the gifts Sarah mentioned comes back to bite me. I do a frantic visual search of the items scattered in front of us, trying to understand where his discomfort could stem from.

“I blame the concussion.” He snickers. “I went on a crazy bender, buying shit I thought you might need… or like… or whatever. I dunno. It was a stupid idea.” He grabs the two bags closest to him and walks around me to carry them to the corner of the room. “I’ll get rid of them.”

“Why?” It’s my curiosity talking. My fear, too.Alwaysmy fear. I want to know what he thinks my needs look like. “What did you buy?”

“Nothing you’re going to want. Like I said, it was stupid.”

“Please let me look.” I tentatively move forward, keeping my gaze on him as I grab the closest bag.

“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs. “Just keep in mind I wasn’t thinking straight.”

The contents of the first bag make my cheeks heat—tampons, pads, a heat pack.

I wish I knew how to react, but emotion overwhelms me. There’s appreciation, guilt, and shame. Always shame.

I reach for another bag and pull out the material contents to expose a casual, full-length dress, the pattern pretty with light pinks and shades of cream. Those emotions intensify. The exact same ones—appreciation, guilt, then shame.

My throat tightens as I reach for a third, finding more clothes. More dresses.

By the fourth and fifth bags dread begins to take over, the ickiness coating my skin.

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