Then he scooted back and laid next to her. On top of the covers.
She wasn’t sure if that was for her benefit or his, but either way she was grateful.
Grateful and nervous and more aware of him than she’d ever been aware of anyone else in her entire life.
Letting go of his arm, she rolled onto her back.
Even with the arctic-like temperature Urban kept the A.C. at, she was sweaty and itchy, her sweatshirt too thick. She wore a sleep tank underneath but getting that comfortable in this particular situation seemed like a bad idea.
And she’d used up her quota of bad ideas for one night.
The sweatshirt was staying on.
She had no idea how long they lay there, side-by-side, neither moving, the only sounds an occasional snorty breath or the rustling sound of one of the dogs shifting on Bella’s bed in the corner where they’d once again curled up together.
She should go to sleep. The sooner she did, the sooner it would be morning and she could send him on his way and go on with her life as if none of this had ever happened.
But there were still some things she needed to know.
“Why didn’t you go home?” she asked softly.
He was silent for so long, she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Half hoped he had. But then he let out a long breath.
“I was afraid to.”
His words, quieter than her own, echoed in her ears. Her stomach turned. She’d heard the rumors about his parents, of course. That his mom was an addict. His dad abusive.
But as a kid, she’d never thought about why he’d miss school for a week and then show up with a faded black eye or a cast on his wrist. Why the school’s guidance counselor was so often pulling him from class. Why, as each year passed, he’d become sullener. More rebellious. Angrier.
And while she could try and tell herself she’d never thought about it because they hadn’t been friends, the truth was, she’d never thought about it because she hadn’t had to. Because she’d had her brothers and Willow and eventually Kat. She’d lost her parents, but so many people had stepped up and taken care of her. Had loved her.
Had kept her safe.
It would have been inconceivable to her that the people who were supposed to love you the most could ever hurt you.
But what had been inconceivable to her had been reality for him.
Was still his reality.
And she couldn’t help but feel like she’d let him down. She hadn’t been there for him. Hadn’t seen anything outside of her own little bubble.
Tears welled. Knowing he didn’t want them, she fought them back. Made sure when she spoke again, he couldn’t hear any evidence of them in her soft tone. “Why me?”
The covers tugged tight around her as he shifted. Again, he was silent, but this time she knew he wasn’t sleeping.
He was evading.
“I don’t know.”
She winced. Not evading.
Hiding once again.
He’d never be truly open with her. Would never give her as much as she wanted from him.
Swallowing her disappointment, she rolled onto her side, facing the wall. Curled into a ball, her hands tucked under her cheek.
And finally, let her tears fall.