Page 148 of Hold Me Until Morning

On shaky knees, I pushed to standing and stretched out my hand. “Come inside. We need to get you cleaned up.”

Cody didn’t argue.

He stood.

Towering.

Menacing.

Protecting.

I could feel the haven of it as he loomed over me, and I turned and began to lead him inside. He followed behind, his boots thudding on the wooden porch, the race of his heart bashing against my spirit.

I slipped through the door, and he clicked it shut behind us, his action pointed as he turned the locks. Then we quietly moved through the house and into the bathroom within my bedroom.

“Sit.” I angled him for the toilet.

He somehow managed a smirk. “Bossy.”

Exasperated, I rolled my eyes, every molecule in my body haggard with the knowledge of what had happened. “You seem set on taking care of me. I think it’s only fair if I take care of you.”

“This isn’t a tit-for-tat thing, Hailey. You don’t owe me anything.”

I reached into the long cupboard beside the sink, pulled out a washcloth, and ran it under hot water. Then I edged back in his direction, the air heavy with implication. With this connection that crackled.

Both soothing and inciting.

My lungs filled with it, almost to the point of pain, like I might burst apart looking at him where he’d been battered because of me.

I gently reached out and pressed the cloth to the wound at the side of his head.

“Isn’t it, though?” My words were so quiet they barely broke above the hum that wisped through the small room. “Isn’t that what this is, Cody? Giving and taking? Receiving and sharing?”

A big hand clamped down on my hip, and he tipped his marred face up to mine.

I wanted to weep.

Wanted to hold the power to wipe it all away.

“You don’t get it, Hailey. Getting to be in your space is enough reward for me. Getting to stand for you is a prize. A fucking honor.”

Hesitating, his gaze dropped away for a beat, his expression filled with an old, old grief when he looked back at me.

“I haven’t always been the best man, Hailey. I’ve made bigger mistakes than you could know. I’ve always known I didn’t deserve happiness. Not the true kind, at least. But I’d had this sense coming for a long, long time that maybe…maybe I was meant for something different. For something more. And now I know I was meant for this.”

My brow furrowed. “We aren’t a moral obligation.”

“No, you’re not, Hailey.” He gathered up my free hand and splayed my palm over where the tattoo was seated in the middle of his chest. “I think you’re my heart’s obligation.”

I blinked, trying to process through what he was saying.

Part of me wanted to dive into the safety of it. Get lost in this incredibly kind man who seemed ready to surrender it all.

The other part urged me to run.

Terrified that falling into it would only be asking for more trouble.

Everything at risk. On the line.

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