Page 77 of Night Shift

I tightened my embrace around her, as if by sheer willpower alone I could shield her from the looming threat. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t enough. We were both caught in the crosshairs of forces beyond our control. And as the silence pressed down upon me, I couldn’t help but wonder—how long until our luck ran out?

I’d gotten myself all wound up again. Worrying wouldn’t help either of us. We both needed a shower and a couple of hours of sleep so we could figure out our next steps.

“Hey, Sam,” I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her freckled shoulder. “What do you say we go shower? We could both use it.”

Her blue eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head to look at me. A tired but satisfied smile graced her full lips. “That sounds lovely, Atticus.”

We untangled ourselves and made our way to the bathroom.

Soon, steam billowed out from the showerhead, and we stepped in, the hot water soaking into our spent, sated bodies.

“Here, let me wash your back,” Samantha offered, taking the loofah from my hand. I turned around, allowing her access, and relaxed under her tender scrubbing. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the connection we were building.

“Thank you, Sammich,” I whispered.

After rinsing off, I took the loofah back and lathered it up with her body wash. “Your turn.”

Starting with her shoulders and working my way down, I gently cleaned her. When I got to her breasts, I couldn’t resist teasing her nipples. This caused her to let out a soft moan, and she shot me a playful glare.

“Atticus, you’re incorrigible,” she scolded, but a slight grin betrayed her amusement.

“Guilty as charged, beautiful,” I replied, taking her in my arms and giving her a chaste kiss. We stayed in the shower for a few more minutes, rinsing off and enjoying the closeness.

Once we were both clean, we turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing towels to dry ourselves. I wrapped my arms around Samantha’s waist, pulling her close and stealing another kiss.

“Let’s get back to bed,” I suggested, the exhaustion finally catching up to me. “We need to grab a catnap if we have any hope of functioning.” She nodded, and we made our way back to the bedroom.

I closed the blinds to block out the morning sunlight as best as I could. We both needed rest. Climbing into bed, I pulled Samantha close. Her body fit perfectly against mine. Our breathing synchronized, and before long, we drifted off to sleep.

Chapter twenty-one

After a night of marathon sex that left every inch of my skin humming, Atticus and I barely managed to rinse off the evidence of our lust before collapsing back into bed. He was out like a light the second his head hit the pillow, snoring softly. Me? Not so much. I lay wide awake, tracing the lines and ridges of his face with the tip of my finger, marveling at the unexpected peacefulness written across his features.

“God, you’re something else, Atticus,” I whispered. He didn’t stir, lost in whatever dreams caught up with a man like him after a night like ours.

He looked different asleep—younger. All the hard edges softened, and the usual furrow between his brows smoothed out. I trailed my fingers over his strong jawline, his slightly crooked nose, and those lips that had left me breathless all night. I had a hard time believing that this was the same man I was so eager to annoy with my rule-breaking. Yesterday, I’d thought I had him pegged, but I hadn’t known anything about him really.

Our fight and subsequent hours of passion-fueled sex had given me insight into who the real man was. Yes, there were still some deeply emotional secrets locked away, but I was beginning to understand his love language. Most women who knew him probably assumed it was an acts of physical touch type. But no, much more than that defined his heart. He was an acts of service kind of man. To him, actions spoke louder than words, especially when it came to protecting those he cared about. And as hard as it was for me to fathom, he seemed to care for me. Why else would he have sprinted over to my apartment in the middle of the night when I was sure he could have been in the arms of one beautiful OB-GYN?

My hand wandered lower, exploring the contours of his body that had become so familiar yet remained endlessly fascinating. This was new, this feeling of tenderness that welled up inside me as I watched him sleep. For the first time, we were sharing a bed for more than just sex, and it felt…right.

It hit me then how deep I was falling into…whatever this was between us. I’d given myself over to him in ways I’d once sworn I never would, and it scared the crap out of me. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. He’d made it clear that relationships weren’t his thing, and yet, here we were, tangled up in each other’s arms. It was dangerous territory for both of us, given our pasts and our trust issues.

Letting someone hold your heart? That was risky business, and in my experience, it didn’t usually turn out well. And yet, here I was, contemplating doing just that with a man who’d never trusted his heart to a woman and had no intention of ever doing so. Except, there had been that slip-up—that “We can’t hide our relationship” comment. And he’d mentioned wanting to try an exclusive situation on a trial basis. It sounded a lot like a relationship to me. Something told me Dr. Atticus Thorin didn’t throw around those kinds of words often. And dammit, I wanted it just as much as I feared it.

My gaze lingered on his face, taking in the softness that sleep brought to his rugged features. “You make it hard to keep up my walls, Dr. Thorin,” I whispered.

Atticus and I were cut from the same cloth. We were survivors of childhoods that had taught us we could be hurt by those we loved. Yet here I was, watching him sleep, feeling a pull towards him that went beyond physical attraction.

I lay back down, resting my head on the pillow and keeping my attention focused on his peaceful face. This was a man who’d seen me at my most vulnerable, who’d held me as I came apart and then put me back together again, piece by piece.

My thoughts drifted to the little box I’d sneakily taken from his closet earlier. Guilt gnawed at me. I shouldn’t have taken it, but curiosity had gotten the better of me. Opening it would be crossing a line, and I realized that was a line I didn’t want to cross anymore. The last thing I wanted was to shatter the fragile trust we were building.

As I lay there curled up beside him, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to wake up like this every day. No fears, no walls, just the two of us. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to stay—not only in his bed but in his life.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Atticus stir until he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against his chest. His warmth enveloped me, his heartbeat thumping steadily under my ear. We breathed quietly for a few moments until a soft snore came from him, and I realized he hadn’t fully awoken. “Sam,” he mumbled in his sleep, his hold on me tightening. That one word, my name on his lips, even in sleep, was enough to make my heart do a stupid little flip. The truth was, this man was getting to me, breaking down walls I hadn’t ever thought I wanted to be torn down.

And just like that, with his steady heartbeat as my lullaby, I drifted off to sleep, a happy smile curving my lips. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe, truly safe.

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