Page 24 of When You Saved Me

Telling Deacon I wanted to sleep next to him in his bed and actually sleeping next to Deacon in his bed were two wildly different things. When we were in the hallway, there had been safety despite the touch he held as he’d grasped my chin between his fingers.

Now, there were mere inches between our bodies, and we were both wearing very little clothing. My arms were ramrod straight at my sides above the covers. His room hadn’t been nearly as hot when I’d taken a shower and changed into my pajamas earlier. Something had changed when I climbed into his king-sized bed and felt the mattress dip to my left when he joined me.

I brought the back of my hand to my forehead to see if Iwas sweating, but my skin was dry as a bone.

Unable to stay still for long, I peered through the darkness at each one of my fingers to analyze my cuticles. Having been brought up as a lady, each finger was perfectly manicured, despite them often being covered in paint. Before long, I found myself staring at the ceiling tricking my mind into thinking the skip trowel texture was shaped into different animals.

Even that didn’t work in keeping my attention for long as Deacon lay beside me. I’d tried avoiding looking at him for as long as I could, but curiosity won as I slowly shifted onto my left side, acting like I was just trying to get comfortable.

When my head settled back on the pillow, I stilled. Deacon was staring straight at me.

“You fidget a lot,” he commented as I watched the way his lips moved with each word. They were the only soft things about him and my mind wandered to places it shouldn’t have.

When I didn’t respond, he asked, “Are you uncomfortable?”

I thought about it for a moment and realized the mattress was the perfect combination between soft and firm. The sheets were cool to the touch, but the weight of the comforter warded off the cold that no doubt seeped in from the window next to me.

“No,” I finally said. Then, I realized he might not have been talking about the mattress at all. I slid my hands between my knees and brought them toward my chest.

“I can go onto the couch,” he offered quietly.

My hand jutted out to stop him from going anywhere, but halfway to his forearm I stopped myself and slid my hand back between my thighs. “Please stay.”

He didn’t move to leave. We laid there together; our gazes fixed on one another until I finally felt brave enough to do what I’d wanted to from the moment I saw him.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?”

His eyes lingered on me for a few more moments before his neck turned and I found him staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but it seemed like his jaw was clenched, his body more still than it had been before I asked the question.

A long exhale moved past his lips when he turned toward me again. “I’ve seen a lot of fucked up things in my life, Charlie. Some things that are so horrible, I can’t find the words to describe them. But going back to that place where I found you...” His voice cracked and my heart thundered in my chest. “I’d rather live through all the other horrors I’ve had to face than go back there again.”

Tears sprung to my eyes at his candor. It was the first real thing he’d said to me since I arrived. Not words that were trying to mask the hidden truth.

What he’d just told me…

The parts I remembered about that day were nightmarish. But that was a small fraction of what he’d probably endured that day. I’d been one of the lucky ones. There were many people who hadn’t made it out in time.

I was thankful for the blanket as it hid the shiver cascading down my body as I took in the man before me.The sheer size of him dwarfed his side of the bed, but the pain in his eyes told me that he was fragile under that tough exterior. Something about that day had shaken him to his core. And if this man, who’d apparently seen unspeakable things in life, couldn’t talk about what happened that day, then I had to respect that.

After the fire, my parents had me see a psychologist to make sure I had support following the trauma. She’d told me that my resilience was beautiful, but that not everyone was gifted with the same ability to simply…move forward. There was no known reason for my strength. I wasn’t special. But some part of me was able to find joy in life again without much effort after the fire.

Others, I knew, weren’t as fortunate.

Seeing Deacon like this made me thankful for whatever part of my brain made me capable of walking away unscathed.

“Okay,” I whispered. Even though I didn’t get the answers I was looking for, the answer he gave me helped me understand him a little more.

And knowing just that small piece of him was enough to calm the torment of my need to know him.

A pacifying quiet settled between us, and I found myself drifting off to sleep under the steadiness of his gaze.

That night I dreamt of swirling snowflakes and strong arms that held me close.

Chapter 10

Deacon

Soft light swam behind my closed eyelids. I opened them and stretched my arms out wide to find the other half of my bed empty. Blinking away the sleep, I looked over to my right and my heart skipped a beat. Charlie wasn’t there.

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