Page 50 of Crossing Between
"Thank you for telling me this," I squeezed his hand.
"Thank you for being brave enough to hear it," he winked. "Not everyone is ready to accept such a truth."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, my head eventually finding its way to his shoulder. The steady rhythm of his breathing was soothing, and for the first time in days, I felt a sense of peace.
"Kenji?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm still scared about everything else, but I'm not scared about us anymore. About the four of us."
His arm tightened around me. "Good. Because together, we're stronger than any demon. And what we're building between us? That's more powerful than any magic."
I believed him.
Chapter 33: Kenji
Watching Zoey sleep was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes. Her face, completely relaxed in slumber, looked younger, unburdened by the weight of everything we were facing. Her vibrant hair fanned across the pillow in wild disarray, and her soft snores made my chest tighten with an unfamiliar tenderness.
I'd volunteered for the overnight watch at her apartment, claiming I wasn't tired after our long conversation. The truth was, I couldn't bear to be away from her. Not when the connection between us felt so raw and new.
She stirred slightly, mumbling something unintelligible before settling again. I resisted the urge to brush a strand of hair from her face, not wanting to wake her. She needed rest to recover her strength.
Instead, I checked my phone. A text from Elias.
Everything quiet?
I typed back quickly.
All good. She's sleeping.
His response came immediately.
Take care ofher.
I smiled at the protectiveness in those simple words. Elias might pretend to be the stoic one but he was just as gone for her as I was.
A sudden idea struck me, making me grin. I needed to do something special for Zoey, something to take her mind off all the darkness and danger. Something uniquely me.
I spent the next hour planning, making calls in hushed tones so as not to disturb her. By the time dawn's first light filtered through her colorful curtains, I had everything arranged.
Zoey woke slowly, stretching like a cat before her eyes fluttered open. She seemed momentarily startled to find me sitting in the chair beside her bed.
"Morning, sunshine," I smiled, enjoying the way her hair stuck up at odd angles. "Sleep well?"
She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "Better than I have in days. What time is it?"
"Just after three," I stood, stretching my own limbs, feeling the satisfying pop of my joints after sitting in that chair for hours. The sunlight had shifted, casting golden rectangles across her colorful bedspread. "How about some food? I make a mean omelet. And by mean, I'm talking legendary status. The kind that would make professional chefs weep with jealousy."
"It's that late?" Zoey blinked rapidly, her eyes widening as she glanced toward the window where the high sun confirmed my words. "I must have been more tired than I thought." She pushed herself up against her pillows, that adorable bedhead of hers becoming even more chaotic with the movement. Her gaze shifted back to me, one eyebrow arching skeptically as she looked me up and down. "You cook? Since when does the man who once set fire to microwave popcorn have culinary skills beyond dialingfor takeout?"
"Don't sound so surprised," I feigned offense, clasping my hands over my heart. "I'm a man of many talents."
That earned me a sleepy laugh as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She wore a large t-shirt as a nightgown, the fabric swallowing her curves but somehow making her look even more appealing.
"I'll be right out," she promised, heading for the bathroom.
While she freshened up, I raided her kitchen, finding enough ingredients to make a decent breakfast. By the time she emerged, hair damp from a quick shower and dressed in those eye-searing colors she loved, I had tea brewing and eggs sizzling in the pan.
