CHAPTER129
Shit.
He never ventures down here.
“U-huh,” I answer nervously, my heart pounding from the fright at being caught like this, overcome with awkwardness.
“I came to see if you were still asleep. Why are you standing there?” There’s only normal Jake in his voice. Jake my friend. As though the past week hasn’t happened.
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come through or not,” I answer.
So, I’m Miss Honesty now, am I?
I’m too drained to pretend.
“How are you feeling?” he coaxes gently, coming to stand only two feet from me. His closeness makes me antsy and we both seem uneasy. My nerves rise up now that he is really here and appraising at me.
“Detached,” I utter shyly; he frowns, evident even in the shadowy hall, and I glance away and sigh. This is harder than I thought it could ever be.
“You look tired. Go back to bed.”
“I’ve slept enough; I can’t sleep anymore.” I sound drained and empty. I pull my hair across my cheek and twirl it absent-mindedly, the soft touch on my skin comforting me, partly trying to conceal my nervousness, now he’s here.
“I was worried about you, cara mia.” He moves closer, narrows his eyes, and gently tugs my hand from my hair. Keeping his fingers wrapped around my closed fist, he pulls it down between us to hold. His skin on mine is like coming home. It breaks my heart. He has no idea that he can do this to me.
“You would have been impressed; I think I left a permanent handprint on his face,” I smirk quietly, covering the way his touch makes me weaken, sobering my melancholy.
“How’s your hand?” He turns it over in his grasp, using his other to flatten my fingers open while he examines it, seeing nothing there. His thumb crosses the skin of my palm lightly, achingly gentle. His touch is like a balm.
“Sore.”
He glances up at me. It does throb still. A burning reminder, yet there are no marks.
“Do you want painkillers?”
“Not that sore.” I attempt a smile and chew on my lip.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His brows narrow, a small, encouraging smile tugging his mouth.
“Not really. I just want to forget it.” I let out a slow sigh and shrug it off, hinting that he shouldn’t push.
“Do you want a hug?” His eyes never leave mine. I dart up, startled at his question, and flush shyly; I shrug awkwardly, amazed that he would even offer after everything, after days of giving me the silent treatment, and yet here he is, as though nothing has happened.
He pulls me by my wrist and wraps me in his arms solidly, molding me to him. He rests his lips against my temple as I sag into him. This feels too good; this is what I need; this is what I’ve missed. I snake my arms around his waist, fully enveloped in one of the best hugs I’ve ever felt in my life. I could stay this way forever, inhaling him, his warmth around me like a security blanket. It just makes all the anger, pain, and chaos drift away like a dream. Forgotten.
We both exhale heavily, releasing the tension fully.
“I hate fighting with you, Emma,” he croons into my hair, and I feel the tug of tears come back.
Oh, no you don’t! No more, I’m done with all that. I’ve poured enough emotion out this week, and I don’t think I can handle anymore tonight.
I mentally shake myself to pull it together.
“I hate it too.” I nuzzle into him as he tightens around me reassuringly. I inhale him slowly.
“How was your vacation? Even though you bailed a week early?” His voice is low and husky; it does things to my insides, and I bury my head against his chest. My hair falls over my face to conceal my expression.
“Lonely,” I admit, and he sighs again.
“You weren’t alone though.” There’s a tinge of regret, and I can’t stay mad at him anymore. He’s always had this ability to make me forgive him, no matter what. The curse of Carrero and his damn spell over me.
“I guess. I like Leila,” I admit with a shrug, staring down at his flat stomach.
“Me too; we’ve been friends since forever. She’s probably one of my few female friends,” he admits.
“You have lots of female friends,” I tease, finally lifting my chin to look at him properly. Our eyes meet as all the awkwardness slowly disperses and there’s just us … back to normal.
“No, I have dates. I have very few female friends. And no, I haven’t slept with Leila; she’s my friend, nothing else.” He moves his forehead to mine, resting easily against me; it feels so natural. Natural, yet agony to be this intimate again.
“You don’t sleep with your friends?” I’m surprised, considering we almost …
“No, I don’t; Leila is like a kid sister to me. She was around a lot when I was young; it wouldn’t feel right.” He shrugs it off."
