Page 56 of Her Dark Angel

Getting to my feet, I muster up whatever strength I have in my body and wrap my arms around Nash’s torso. With a loud grunt, I manage to get him into a seated position. Goddamn, how much does this man weigh? It feels like I’m trying to lift a car with my bare hands, not a human being.

I don’t know how, but I hoist Nash onto unsteady feet with my right arm holding his frame upright. Every muscle in my body burns as I drag him across the room and into the bathroom with great difficulty. I grit my teeth together as I flip the light switch on and walk over to the large white tiled shower in the far corner of the room. Luck is on my side when I spot the built-in bench.

“Come on,” I grunt as I drag Nash into the shower and settle him down on the tiled bench.

With a huff, I spin on my heels and turn the shower on. Hot water slams against my skin, warming me up instantly. After being tucked against Nash’s cold body, I welcome the searing heat from the water. I don’t even care I’m still fully clothed. I can worry about that once I know if Nash is okay or not.

Nash still has his eyes closed when I sit on the bench beside him. His large frame slumps to the side and his head falls into my lap. The water from the shower head sprays his torso, leaving his face untouched.

Peering down at him, I rest one hand on his bare shoulder and caress his cheek with the other. “Nash, you have to wake up. I need to know you’re okay. Please.”

He stirs slightly and my eyes widen in surprise. My heart slams against my chest as Nash groans quietly. As his eyes begin to flutter open, my hand finds his hair, pushing the wet strands away from his forehead.

Nash lifts his hand to his forehead and groans deeply, his brows creased in a frown. “God, my fucking head is killing me.”

For some odd reason, hearing his voice causes my throat to close up and I choke back a sob of relief. I want to punch him for making me worry like that, but I also want to kiss him for the sheer fact he’s alive and well.

I don’t do either of those.

Mismatched eyes find mine and all I can do is stare back at them as I run my hand through his wet curls, the strands gliding between my fingers effortlessly. As we sit in silence staring at each other, I see the pain and hurt simmering in the depths of his eyes.

In this moment, he’s not Nash Beck, the lead singer of Dark Angel who has a history of being a bad boy. No. He’s just Nash, a normal man struggling with his trauma and just barely getting by. I had been wondering who the real Nash Beck is, and now he’s staring back at me, laid bare and unfiltered.

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.

Nash swallows hard and blinks rapidly before palming at his eyes with his hands. “What’s going on, Kin? Why are we in the shower fully clothed?”

“Because I tried calling you multiple times and you wouldn’t answer,” I explain, trying to keep my voice even. “I came by to check on you and found you… passed out on the bed. I didn’t know if you were just drunk or—” I swallow hard, unable to say the words.

“Overdosing,” Nash finishes for me hoarsely, his eyes finding mine once again. He licks his chapped lips and shakes his head. “I’m okay, little devil. I promise. Just had a little bit too much to drink and passed out. I wasn’t trying to kill myself if that’s what you were worried about.”

I was worried, I want to tell him, but I don’t. “You can’t continue to do this to yourself, Nash. It’s not healthy or safe. What if one day you just never woke up and someone who loves you found you dead in the same position I found you? What then?”

Nash pushes himself into a seated position, the water from the shower still spraying over his torso and lower half as he runs a hand down his face. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You say that now, but if you keep going down the road you are, it might become a reality one day,” I counter, growing frustrated with his lack of care for the people in his life and how his actions affect them too. “Whatever you’re struggling with… you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

He turns his head slightly to look at me, his eyes slightly bloodshot. “Why are you really here, Kin?”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I’m left opening and closing my mouth like a goddamn fish desperate for some water as I try to form a sentence. Nash raises a questioning brow at me, his eyes shining with an all too familiar heat.

“I, um… wanted to make sure you were okay and ask why you left so suddenly after I bailed your ass out of jail this afternoon.”

A look of surprise passes through his eyes before they widen ever so slightly. “That’s why you came all the way here?”

I nod. “You can’t just kiss me and leave without an explanation, Nash. That’s not how it works.”

Nash rolls his eyes and leans back against the tiled wall. “As stubborn as ever, little devil. Can’t you just leave this alone?”

I turn my body to face his, desperately ignoring the way the water from the showerhead flows down the crevices of his hard torso, dipping below the fabric of his sweatpants, or the way his haunting eyes meet mine from behind the wet curls falling over his eyes.

Focus, Kinsley.

“No, I won’t. I deserve an explanation, Nash. What the hell is going on with you? First, you get yourself thrown into jail, and then you kiss me in my kitchen and leave without saying a word. It’s confusing, to say the least.”

Nash chuckles dryly. “You’re confused, little devil? I’m beyond fucking confused because I shouldn’t want to kiss you, but I do. You drive me fucking insane and push every one of my buttons, but it only makes me want you more. And that is what’s fucking confusing.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging on the roots roughly. “I left because I couldn’t fucking breathe around you and it felt like I was going to explode. So, I came home to do the one thing that helps ease my mind and whatever else I’m feeling.”

My heart stills in my chest as I blink slowly. He… wants me? Surely I misheard him or he’s confused because of the alcohol and drugs coursing through his system. There is just no way.

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