Page 50 of Say You'll Stay

The baby blocked them when he got back. Not that he’s mad at Lucy, she’s already got him wrapped around her finger like her momma does, but that missed chance left a gap and this moment offers a way to make it right. Too bad the fear of ruining what they already have keeps him from taking advantage of a second chance.

‘Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her,’his brain yells, trying to propel him forward, but this is a risky thing. He has to be sure.

“Can I ask you something?” she whispers.

“Yes. Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

A soft smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m in.”

“Can we… can you… I wanna sleep closer to you tonight. Is that okay? You can say no.”

The last thing he’ll do is say no. He nods his agreement. “How?”

“Can you lay on your back, or does it still hurt?”

“It’s alright now.” He shifts to lie against the pillow, waiting with his nerves ablaze for her to nestle into him however she wants.

This isn’t a thing he does. Not ever. Can count on one hand the number of times he’s hugged anyone, let alone cuddled in bed, and still have plenty of fingers left over. Being close, getting attached, is a weakness and a setup for disappointment, but as she lays against his chest, her ear over his frantic heartbeat and the warmth of her soaking into his body, he is surprised to realize that there’s no desire to escape.

With a careful hand, he rubs long strokes from her shoulder to her elbow and back again, his arm curled around her. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

“I’m not either, but you’re doing better than you think. If I start to smother you in my sleep, just nudge me off.”

He huffs. “You won’t smother me.”

“If I do—”

“You won’t. Relax, go to sleep.”

“That’s my line.”

There’s a smirk in her voice before she goes silent and her body begins to melt into his. The weight of her is comforting in ways he hasn’t felt before. Cole’s never been with anyone that he cared about, and that was on purpose. Mutually beneficial one-night stands are all he’s allowed himself to have because he has nothing to offer anyone beyond that. Not theemotional capacity to be a good partner, or the physical ability to let anyone close enough to see his scars. He scratched the itch when he needed to, with someone who wanted the same, and left it at that. Assumed it was all he’d want, but now, being alone sounds worse than it ever has.

Not that he’swithOlivia. He isn’t. She’s tucked under his arm because she needs comfort and he can offer that. It’s not permission to take this further. The idea of it floats unbidden across his thoughts, though, conjuring up impossible scenarios where the three of them are a real family.

He turns his face to nestle against the crown of her head and lets his eyes drift shut. Maybe his dreams will be kinder than his waking thoughts.

* * *

He’s back in that house with those men, watching them fight each other. Though they haven’t noticed him yet, a small sound from the closet prompts them to rush over and fling it open, only to find Olivia and Lucy hiding behind the hanging clothes.

Cole’s pulse slams in his veins as she’s pulled out into the room. The baby is ripped from her arms and men pin her to the ground. He’s fueled by adrenaline as he barrels into the first opponent, knocking him clear across the room like a bull. Then he’s in a fistfight with the whole group, feeling his bones crumble from a hard hit, blood coating his tongue.

Olivia screams from the other side of the room and he can’t reach her. He can’t break free from the group distracting him as the others close in on her, and the realization of their intentions makes bile rise in his throat.

The baby cries alone on the bed while her mother begs for helpthat Cole can’t offer because he’s in the middle of getting the life beaten out of him…. then someone grabs his shoulder, calling his name like a thread of hope in a storm.

The walls shimmer and fade into the walls of the cottage. The group of men disappear, replaced by a single person on the bed with him.

He’s still lost in a nightmare, unable to grasp his surroundings or actions. He responds instinctively, not recognizing who’s talking to him. He has the gun from under the pillow in his hand, safety off, and finger on the trigger before he can process the movements. Then he’s staring at Olivia’s panicked face on the other side of the barrel.

“It’s me, it’s me, it’s just me. You’re at the cottage. We’re safe. It’s okay. Look at me, Cole. Look at me!”

Horror washes over him as he realizes what he almost did, and with another flick of the safety, the gun is dropped to the floor. “Oh shit, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He tries to get away from her, both hands in his hair, tugging until it hurts, and his back up against the headboard. What he doesn’t expect is for her to crawl into his lap. Her thighs bracket his and her arms weave around him, her breath warm and soft on his neck as she holds all his crumbling pieces together.

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