Page 341 of Dark Love

The phone slips back into his pocket.

Shouldn’t he be almost deaf from working at a club and listening to insanely loud music all the time?

“The bathroom is through there.” He points to a door a few feet from where the bed is.

Those few feet could be a dozen miles as tired as I am. Can I do it? What do I do if my body is incapable of taking me where I need to go?

Baby steps.

Just take it one step at a time and see what you can do.

The first challenge is this lovely, warm but exceptionally heavy blanket. Will my jelly arms work this time? It’s been hours. How long does it take for this drug to get out of my system?

My bladder screams, leaving me no time to think about the problem. I reach for the blanket and hope for the best. “Why is this so heavy?” My hands work, but it’s a challenge lifting what should be easy.

“It’s a weighted blanket.” He reaches out and helps me lift it away, careful not to touch a single part of me. How can anyone think this man is bad?

The t-shirt is twisted all around my legs, exposing way more pasty white thigh than I’ve shown in years.

“Do you need me to carry you?”

I hope not. That would just be the icing on the cake. “I don’t think so.”

He stands up and steps back, giving me space, but close enough to reach me if I should fall.

Scooching over in a shirt without showing anything more than too much thigh—which is already too much thigh when standing next to a man who probably lives in the gym—is the first challenge. My body wobbles a bit, but it’s easy enough once my legs slip over the side of the bed and my toes touch the smooth, dark floor.

You’ve got this.

All you need to do is push up off the incredibly comfortable bed and stand up. You do this every single day.

One.

Two.

Three… The world spins and my head throbs.

“Got you.” Vex’s hands grip my shoulders. “You’re okay.”

“I’m not okay. This isn’t okay. This will never be okay.” Why did I just shout in the face of a man that’s trying to help me? “Sorry.”

“No. You’re right. Everything about this is wrong. The—”

“But I shouldn’t take my anger out on the person who’s trying to be kind to me. I’m sorry.”

Vex doesn’t respond.

Did I really expect him to? “Thank you. I think I can make it now.”

His hands slip away, and I feel their loss. Not because I waver on my feet, but because they settle something in me.

“Holler if you need help.”

That’s not going to happen. I’ll crawl out of the bathroom rather than have him come in.

Impossible. His bathroom is slicker than the bedroom. There’s a blend of glass, stone, and metal all in various shades of gray, so dark it’s almost black. The metallic tiles in his shower set the mood for the entire room.

It’s hard to believe someone actually lives in this space. It should be on the cover of some magazine.

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