Page 53 of Dash

“Make it ten,” she teases.

Thirty minutes later, my body is vibrating from taking her, my hair is damp from the shower, and I’m making breakfast while she gets changed.

As soon as she walks in, I’m aware of her. My body just knows she’s there and reacts as she wraps her arms around my waist, her hands sliding under my T-shirt. She presses her cheek to my back and lets out a content sigh.

“Are you still coming here tonight?”

It kills me that she still doubts I’ll show up.

“Yeah, babe. I’ll be here.” I turn around, pulling her into my arms and brushing my lips to hers.

She melts into me, like her body knows she belongs here, even if her mind hasn’t caught up yet.

“Sometimes, I think I dreamed you,” she whispers. “I don’t know why you’re still here, but I’m happy you are.”

I brush her hair off her face, scanning her. “I wish you would see yourself the way I do,” I say.

“Messy? Crazy? Too much?”

She says it with a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It never does when she’s tearing herself down. She knows her own words wound but can’t stop from taking the shot.

“You’re not crazy, and you’re not too much. You don’t have to shrink yourself to fit the ideals of the people around you, Dayna. You just have to be you.”

She snuggles against my chest, and I cup the back of her head. “Being myself doesn’t usually work very well.”

That guts me too because when she’s unfiltered, when she’s not putting on an act, Dayna is one of a kind.

I pull her back so she can see the truth when I say my next words. “You’re not perfect, babe. No one is. You’re complicated, sometimes messy, but that’s not all you are. You’ve built a life from nothing, and you made it pretty.” I run my fingers over her temple. “But you’ve got to stop letting other people’s views get in your head. Unless it’s my view. Because Dayna, I fucking see you. I understand you.”

She flinches, just for a split second, as if my words scare her. Maybe they do. She’s never let anyone in really.

“Who knew giving you a morning blow would make you so reflective,” she deflects, a habit I don’t know if she’s ever going to break. “Thanks for the self-help talk, but I was joking.”

She pulls out of my arms, and I let her go. She is not in a place to hear what I’m saying, but maybe one day she will be. Maybe one day Dayna will take my words at face value and she’ll understand exactly what she means to the people who love her.

“Do you want coffee?” She throws over her shoulder, as if we haven’t just laid her bare in the kitchen.

“I can’t. I’ve got a run.” I follow her and grab her nape. Fuck she’s beautiful. Every part of her makes my body sing.

I kiss her, deep and claiming, reminding her who she fucking belongs to.

“I’ll be back tonight,” I continue, and fuck I hate that I have to go. I don’t want to leave her here in this flat with her thoughts and shit fucking security.

“I finish at seven.” Her hands slide along my sides.

“I’ll be here at half past. And I’m changing that fucking lock.”

I don’t want to railroad her, but I’m done letting her sleep in a place that isn’t safe, especially when I’m not here.

Her brow arches. “Daryll will fix it, Dash. Just give him time.”

Her dick head landlord is going to feel my boot on his neck for leaving her unprotected.

“He’s had almost a week. The lock is dog shit. I’m tired of waiting for that useless prick to do something, so I’ll fucking change it. It’s a five-minute job and I’ll sleep easier knowing that you’re safe on the days I’m not here.”

I don’t mean for those words to hit as hard as they do, but she peers up at me like I just handed her my soul.

“You’re so hot when you’re all growly. I like it. But it’s not your responsibility to take care of my maintenance. I’ll message Darryl again today.”

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