Page 73 of Arrogant Puck

“Can’t sleep?” he asks gently.

There’s something about his voice, the concern in it, that breaks the dam I’ve been holding back. Suddenly tears are streaming down my face, and I’m scared. Scared of myself, scared of being homeless, scared of this new job, this new life I’m living with no one to catch me if I fall.

Then suddenly Slater’s arms are wrapped around me, and I feel like someone actually cares. He cradles the back of my head with one large hand, and I don’t want to find comfort in the arms of another man, but I can’t help it. I can’t help that Slater makes me feel safe.

“Don’t leave,” I cry into his chest, and he pulls me tighter until my breath catches. Gradually my sobs subside, and he’s completely calmed my panic attack.

His scent is still unfamiliar, but somehow comforting. When he pulls back slightly, I study his features—the crooked nose that must have been broken at least once, the square jawline, his hooded eyes that are full of genuine concern.

“My demons see yours, Sage,” he says quietly.

My eyes flutter closed. Did I hear him correctly? Because there’s no way he’s referencing something I said to him days ago. How could those four words mean so much to me?

I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly, and it takes everything in me not to climb into his lap and indulge inwhatever connection this is. We could fuck the demons out of each other, couldn’t we? But instead, I keep myself in control and embrace this hug.

“You’re a good friend,” I whisper against his shoulder.

He doesn’t freeze this time, doesn’t appear upset when he pulls back, and I think he finally understands.

“Lay down,” he commands softly.

When I settle back against the pillow, he lies beside and tugs my body into his.

Chapter 28

I hold her in my arms, wondering what the hell is going on in that head of hers. She came apart so completely, so suddenly, that it caught me off guard. I’ve seen her stressed, seen her overwhelmed, but this was different. This was terror, pure and primal.

Whatever nightmare she had, it shook her to her core.

I do everything I can to contain the part of me that wants to demand answers, to find out who hurt her and make them pay. Instead, I focus on the weight of her body against mine, the way she fits perfectly in the circle of my arms. Her shampoo smells like vanilla and something floral.

I pull her hair away from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear, and settle her more securely against my chest. The gesture is gentle, careful, everything I’m usually not.

“Are you okay?” I ask, needing to know what’s going through her mind.

She turns to look at me, and the lamp light catches the gold flecks in her eyes. There’s still fear there, but it’s fading.

“My life’s a wreck,” she says quietly. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I search her face, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the way her lashes cast shadows. “Nobody ever knows what they’re doing.”

She nods at that, and the expression lightens something in my chest that I didn’t realize was tight.

“You’re not going to tell me that you know what you’re doing?” she asks.

I hold back my smirk. The truth is, I know exactly what I’m doing when it comes to her. I’m claiming her, inch by inch, moment by moment. “No, because you already promised you would live with me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I would never promise that.”

She got me with that one, but I don’t let her see it. The word ‘promise’ was too strong, too permanent for where she is right now. I need to be more careful.

“What about you?” she asks. “Is your life a wreck too?”

I shake my head. “Not anymore.”

“Not anymore? What does that mean?”

I search her face, wondering how much truth she can handle. How much of my darkness I can show her before she runs. “Time to sleep.”

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