Page 46 of Too Safe

A few more minutes pass before my breathing is completely under control. I really do feel safe, even if I’m lying in bed beside a man I barely know.

Eventually, I turn my head and pop out one of the earplugs.

“I’m sorry, Kylian. But thank you.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he murmurs, lifting a hand as if he’s going to touch me.

I follow the movement with my eyes, and he freezes. Changing course, he runs the hand through his hair, mussing it up and making it stand on end.

“You’re scared of storms,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Fucking terrified,” I admit, just above a whisper.

Nodding, he pulls out his phone again.

“Damn. This one’s just getting started.”

He flashes the screen toward me. The sight of all the green and orange sends my anxiety through the roof again, so I hold one hand in front of my face, shielding my eyes from the weather radar.

Kylian lowers the phone immediately, understanding my silent signal.

I peek over and search his face. Gulping past the fear of rejection, I ask, “Can I stay here with you tonight?”

His eyes narrow behind the lenses of his glasses. He inspects me for several seconds, then takes in the room.

Sighing, he nods. “Yeah, Jo. You can stay up here with me. Will you be able to sleep?”

“I think so.”

He stands and locks the bedroom door, then takes off his glasses and sets them on the nightstand. He shakes some pills out of a bottle, pops them into his mouth, and swallows them dry. Then, wordlessly, he pulls off his shirt with one hand, tosses it across the room, and lies flat on his back beside me.

I put the loose earplug back in place, instantly soothed by the way it dulls the ambient sound of the room and the near-constant rumble of thunder. Gravity and the weighted blanket press me into the mattress, settling me further. Pulling in a breath far more easily than I have since that first drop of rain, I turn on my back so Kylian doesn’t think I’m some sort of creeper staring at him in the dark.

Exhaustion overwhelms me. Sleep threatens to consume me. I take in another long, calming breath and blow it out over several seconds as my body finally gives up the fight.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the LED lights overhead as I fall asleep.

Chapter 19

Josephine

Thesoftkissofsunshine warms my upturned cheek, rousing me from sleep. I yawn and force my eyes open, disoriented by the heat and stickiness of my other cheek.

A prism of color dances in my vision—reds, purples, and blues. Warmth and coolness. A dichotomy of hues.

I cast my gaze to the ceiling, searching for the source of the jewel-toned rainbow. Above me, an ornate, square-shaped box nearly blinds me. It’s transparent, like a four-sided window, made up of vibrant panels of stained-glass on each side.

The colors. The light. The warmth of the sun.

I blink a few times before I remember where I am and why.

The Nest.

I fled up here last night. That’s the only way to describe my desperate, pitiful attempt at escaping the storm. It’s not exactly possible to flee from weather, a reality I’ve had to face time and time again over the last several years. The saddest part? It’s the storm inside my mind that ultimately wrecks me every time.

My cheek sort of sticks to the surface it’s resting on. So with a sigh, I lift my head, only then understanding that I’m peeling my face off a warm, bare chest.

Shit.

---