Page 78 of Her Dark Angel

Nash is kissing me once again.

And now my heart is beating erratically for an entirely different reason.

27

KINSLEY

Imelt into the kiss, allowing Nash to pull me out of the depths of Hell I was moments away from slipping into without a way of returning. Somehow, his touch has brought me back to the light, allowing me to breathe properly again.

My heart slams against my rib cage as Nash’s hand slides up to my cheek, holding me firmly in place as his lips move gently against mine, coaxing and soothing as he takes his time. It’s both tender and passionate.

After a moment, Nash pulls away and presses me to his chest, holding me firmly against his warm body. His voice sounding over the top of my head shocks me for a moment.

“Next time, lock the fucking door.”

I’m swept away from the room once Nash has slammed the door shut behind him. His arm is strong and warm around my waist as he guides me to his bedroom. It’s dark when we step inside, but light quickly illuminates the room when Nash flicks the switch on.

I gingerly walk toward his bed, settling down on the edge of it. My mind is still reeling from the panic attack. I hate myself for allowing something as small as witnessing people having sex to set me off as much as it did.

Lately, the memories have been harder to suppress and I’m unsure why. I need to do something to fix it because if I don’t, I fear the darkness may finally consume me.

“Are you okay, Kin?”

I lift my head to see Nash leaning against the closed door with his hands in his pockets. Inky curls fall over his eyes, but I still feel the intensity of them piercing my soul.

Inhaling a deep breath, I shrug. “Yes and no.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“Not really,” I admit. Exhaling slowly, I fiddle with the beaded bracelet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “I just… Sometimes it’s hard, you know. To face your demons every day with no end in sight as to when you’ll finally win the war. It’s exhausting.”

“I know how you feel, little devil.” Heavy footsteps sound in the room as Nash walks toward me. His heavy mass settles on the mattress beside me, his strong woodsy cologne clouding my senses. “I may not know the cause of the darkness swirling in your eyes, nor do you know mine, but I understand how difficult it is to battle such a force each day.”

I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. Nash’s words lay heavily on my shoulders. I have never met another person who understands my struggles while also fighting their own battle. It feels validating. To know that even though Nash doesn’t know the details of my past, he is still capable of a level of comfort and support no one else can provide me.

The fear of taking that next step with a man isn’t foreign to me, but it is difficult, especially with the demons constantly wanting to remind me of why I shouldn’t.

But with Nash… I want to take that next step. Why? I don’t know. Something about his presence, despite his intimidating exterior, makes me want to get closer to him. To feel protected, perhaps? To feel heard without having to say a word? Or maybe it’s because he understands me, and that’s not something I have found with a man before him.

Even when this all ends in a few of months, the knowledge of the comfort Nash provides me with will stick with me.

“If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on then that’s fine,” he says, his arm brushing against mine. “If you don’t want to leave this room for the rest of the night, then I’ll stay by your side, okay?”

I blink at Nash as my stomach does backflips. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He raises a brow at me. “Would you prefer I go back to being an asshole?”

Yes, because at least then it will stop the butterflies going fucking crazy in my stomach.

“I’m just not used to it,” I admit, not wanting to say the words I really want to. “You can stop pretending when we’re alone, you know. I’m sure it’s exhausting to keep up appearances, but no one is around, so you can tone it down.”

“Who says I’m pretending?”

My skin prickles hotly at his words, a wave of want crashing over me. No matter how many times I tell myself I need to stay away from Nash because he’s not good for me or my heart, I find myself unable to tear myself away, instead inching closer, like a moth drawn to a flame.

“Nash…” I breathe. My pulse thumps loudly in my throat as blood rushes in my ears. “We can’t do this.”

Nash leans so close I can smell the whiskey on his breath, sending chills across my body. He tilts his head to the side, his mismatched eyes roaming my face. “Why do you keep pushing me away, little devil?”

---