Page 74 of Hidden But Not Safe

He was safe. It was just him and Meg.

He rolled off the bed, using the hall bathroom to shower again so he wouldn’t wake her. His legs felt like rubber when he returned. He rested on his uninjured side to stare at her, the image of her remaining in his mind long after his eyes slid closed.

Chapter 22

Naz woke up alone. The comforter next to him was cold to the touch, as if Meg had never been there. Hating the thought, he rolled out of bed.

He found her sitting on the couch in the living room, her fingers gripping the small giraffe from the quarter machine.

On the coffee table were the sticky notes, the creases a little less obvious, as if she’d tried to smooth them out. Two were her “thank-yous,” one was the lip marks, and one was her apology.

Naz hovered near the couch. Her gave remained fixed on the giraffe.

“Meg?” he asked.

She let out a choked sound, rolling the giraffe in her fingers. “I like the way you say my name.” She lifted her head and stared up at him. Her cheeks were damp, but her eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen them.

He perched beside her on the couch, wanting to draw her into his arms but also not wanting to look away from her eyes.

Meg’s laugh slid through him, somehow both easing and tightening the ache in his chest.

“I’m not wrong, am I?” she asked. “You must have bought this after I shared my favorite animal with you. Maybe even bought it for me?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you give it to me?”

Naz didn’t have an answer. He’d liked having the giraffe on him, having it and her notes. They’d felt like a weight in his pocket, even though they were as light as could be.

“It’s like you were carrying around a piece of me.” Meg took his hand, turning it so his palm was up before she placed the giraffe there, curling his fingers around it. “That makes me so fucking happy. You make me happy.” She scooted toward him, not letting go of his hand but leaning her forehead against his chest. “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

Heat filled him to bursting. He wrapped his other hand around her and dragged her onto his lap, wanting her as close as he could get her.

They sat like that as time ticked on, just enjoying each other’s presence.

If he could be with Meg, remain with her from now on, it would always be like this.

“I wasn’t snooping. Not that you’d care, but in case you wondered.” She snuggled her head into his neck, curling her arm around him. “These fucking clothes.” Her finger plucked at the light blue polo he’d put on after he’d made a mess of the white one the night before.

“You seemed uncomfortable in them last night, so I wanted to wash the blood out of your regular clothes. Checked the pockets first, since you always have your phone on you.”

Naz circled her back with his hand in a soothing motion. He wouldn’t mind if she had been snooping. Not when it led to this. Not even if it hadn’t.

Naz would forgive her anything.

She pulled back, trusting him to support her as she bent over to grab his phone. She handed it to him before shifting off his lap and back to the couch cushion.

“I want to talk.” She pointed toward the phone. “Really talk. After the warehouse—” She frowned down at her hands.

He wondered how badly he’d scared her.

Meg twisted her fingers. “I’ve shared some really fucked-up shit with you, things I’ve never shared with anyone, but I don’t really know you at all.” Her eyes lifted to trace his face. “This version of you—the one who would buy a cheap toy giraffe because I said I liked them, the one who makes me feel safe. That’s the one I’m used to. But yesterday, it felt like you weren’t there anymore.”

He shook his head.

Meg frowned. “So you were still there?”

His hand tightened on the giraffe. He forced it open, staring down at the bit of rubber that should have meant nothing. He leaned forward, placing it on the coffee table to free up his other hand.

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