Page 33 of Hero Mine

Something in her chest twisted—hard. God, she wanted to say yes. She wanted to let herself fall into the safety of his space, into the warmth of his presence. Wanted to wake up to coffee and bacon and Bear’s steady gaze every morning.

But not like this. Not with him offering out of pity or obligation or whatever misplaced sense of responsibility he felt toward her.

She forced a short laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to live with you, Bear.”

His jaw tightened, just barely.

It was fast—so fast, she almost missed it. The tiny flinch, the flicker of something like hurt in his eyes before his expression smoothed into careful neutrality.

“I see,” he said after a beat.

Guilt hit her like a truck, squeezing the air from her lungs. She hadn’t meant it like that.

“I just meant?—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Fine. Then let me help you clean your house. Or, hell, I’ll do it myself if being in it is too much.”

“No.” The word came out harsher than she intended. “I don’t want you going back inside my house.”

He threw up his hands. “Then what’s your plan?”

She clamped her mouth shut, frustration bubbling up her throat.

“If you won’t stay here and you won’t live in your house, what are you going to do?” he pushed. “Do you want me to talk to my parents? They’d invite you to stay, no question.”

“No,” she said again quickly, horrified at the thought. The last thing she wanted was for people—especially his family—to feel obligated to take her in like some stray dog they found shivering in the rain.

Bear sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Then what?”

She had no answer. Because she didn’t know.

She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. “I’ll figure it out.”

Bear let out a sharp breath, clearly frustrated. “That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got,” she snapped, her voice rising as her chest tightened painfully. “This is my mess. I have to figure it out. I can’t let others solve it for me.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. He didn’t argue. Didn’t push.

He just studied her, his jaw tight, something unreadable in his eyes.

Then, without another word, he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and shrugged it on.

“I need to run some errands,” he said, voice clipped.

Guilt curled inside her, sour and sharp. She hadn’t meant to drive him away, but she also couldn’t make herself take back what she’d said.

“I won’t clean your house,” he added as he reached the door. “I won’t talk to my parents. But just… Stay here today. Rest. Eat. Let yourself breathe for once. I’ll be gone most of the day.”

She swallowed, nodding because speech felt impossible past the lump in her throat.

He lingered for half a second longer, like he wanted to say something else. But in the end, he just left, the door closing with a soft click that somehow felt louder than if he’d slammed it.

For the first time in a long time, Joy was alone in a place that wasn’t the playhouse.

And she had no idea how to feel about that.

Chapter10

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