Page 62 of Rebel Hawke

“That’s pretty fucking hard.”

All the optimism has been zapped out of me by months of pain and being stuck in this purgatory.

Tears shimmer in her eyes, and she nods. “I know. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

“Shit.” I wince and rub at the back of my neck again. “Of course, you have.”

She undoubtedly spent months—maybe even longer—in some burn unit, having skin grafts, fighting infections and damaged lungs, trying just to live, and here I am, complaining about having to do some extra fucking work to try to heal myself.

I release a heavy breath and open my eyes to meet hers.

Wren so badly wants to fix things.

To fixme.

And I know how tenacious she can be.

Ifanyonecan help me, it would be this woman. The only one who has ever really touched my heart and who holds it now after one single night with her.

“You can’t tell anyone, Little Bird.”

She sighs. “Why not? Your family wants to help you. They all love you. My grandfather does, too. They’ll understand—”

“No, they won’t.” I shake my head and slam my fist against the closest locker. The sharp crack of metal reverberates through the room. “You don’t understand. This is all I’ve ever been good at. The only thing I’ve ever had. If I fail at this…” I swallow, the emotion threatening to choke me. “I don’t have anything to fall back on. I can’t go to work for the family. I can’t go sling drinksat the fucking clubs, wait tables at The Grind or one of the other restaurants, or hell, even fucking sell books with Jude. I can’t do it. I’m not cut out for any of that.”

“You can doanything, Atlas.”

“This isitfor me, Wren. If I can’t make this work…”

I let my words trail off because I don’t know what the answer or the continuation of that sentence is. But she steps forward and throws her arms around me, laying her cheek against my sweat-slicked chest.

“Shit, Wren, I’m disgusting right now.”

She presses her lips over my heart. “I don’t care. You need a hug.”

I chuckle and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her hair, the scent of almonds and cherry filling my lungs as I breathe her in. Having her up against me, offering herself so freely and openly, begging me to let her help, makes it physically impossible for me to say no.

“Okay.”

She tilts her face up toward me. “Okay, what?”

“I’ll work with you, do whatever you tell me…”

Her dark brows rise. “Anything?”

The way she asks makes my blood run cold. She’s already worried I won’t like something she’s going to suggest. That reservation runs through her typically open gaze and gives her away.

“Withinreason.” I tilt her face up to mine more. “Why?”

She twists her lips, clearly contemplating how to say whatever it is she’s holding back. “Because I don’t think you’re going to like my first rule.”

“There are rules?”

Her head bobs, her dark hair slipping from her shoulder, exposing the evidence of last night.

I dip my head and feather my lips over the spot, wanting so badly to bite and suck at her flesh again. “What’s that?”

She swallows so thickly I can hear it. “No sex.”

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