Page 45 of Fighting for the Forbidden
“What do you need?”
“I’ve no idea. Can I…” I trail off, not sure if I should be asking the question that’s on the tip of my tongue.
“Can you what?”
“Can I stay?”
“This is your house too, Lauren. You don’t need my permission.”
“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it. Can I stay?” I flick my eyes to his bed. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“You can have whatever you want, baby.” His eyes darken, and I immediately regret asking. He wants more than I’m willing to give right now.
“Just hold me?” I look away, embarrassed by my request, but his fingers gently press into my chin and turn me back.
“Always.”
Our eyes hold, and my mouth waters. It would be so fucking easy to lean into him right now. My fingers fist the sheet beneath me as I try to remind myself why I wanted to take this slow.
“I just need…” As I move, he releases his hold on me.
“Lauren,” he calls just before I disappear into his bathroom. My breath catches when I look over my shoulder at him. His bruises are starting to fade and he looks incredible sitting there with the covers pooled at his waist. “Yeah?” I breathe.
“I mean it. Whatever you need. I’m here.”
“I know.” Ducking inside his bathroom, I close the door and take a breath. I was expecting to spend the evening at home alone as I dissected every second of our time together in Rome, but here I am, hiding in his bathroom. I couldn’t even make two hours without him.
Shaking my head at my ridiculousness, I do what I need to do before splashing my face with cold water and attempting to brush my teeth with my finger.
Finding one of Ben’s folded t-shirts on the side, I run my finger over the cotton. Lifting it from its place, I bring it to my nose and inhale his scent. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and I can’t stop myself.
Stripping out of my own clothes, I leave them in a pile on the floor and slip his shirt over my head. Something within me settles the moment I’m surrounded by him.
I run my fingers through my knotted hair and stare at my red-rimmed, tired eyes in the mirror. I’m fed up of all the bullshit and drama. I thought it was over, but it seems that was just wishful thinking.
The second I pull the door open, I’m less confident about my decision to borrow Ben’s shirt, but I soon realise that I needn’t worry because one look at him and I know he’s out cold. A smile twitches at my lips that he’s finally able to get some good rest as I make my way across the room. Pulling the covers back, I slip in beside him and run my eyes over every inch of his face. He’s not shaved since the accident, so he’s got five days’ worth of growth covering his chin; if anything, it only makes him more beautiful. His dark eyelashes rest down on his strong cheekbones and his lips are curled into the slightest smile. The thought that I could have something to do with that causes heat to bloom inside me.
Leaning forward, I gently place my lips to his forehead. “Thank you,” I whisper. I’m not sure what exactly it’s for, but it feels right. He might have turned my world upside down once again when he reappeared, but I can’t imagine dealing with the fallout of Dad’s death without him.
There’s no sign he’s awake, but suddenly his arm moves, and he wraps it around my waist and pulls me to him. It feels so incredibly good to be wrapped in his arms once again.
