Page 108 of Shadow Dance

The last time I was in a new relationship I was a kid. I was with the same person for so long that I kind of lost my edge, if I ever really had one. Trust, reading between the lines, the dynamic of a new relationship is all foreign to me.

But if there’s any hope for Cruz and me, and I desperately want there to be, I have to be explicitly honest about my thoughts and misgivings. I have to be, because I want him to be that way with me. No lies.

“I was so young when I got with Callum. He said stuff, I believed him. He did things, and I trusted him. Until I didn’t, and by then it was too late.” I run my fingertips over his arm, trying to fit my words together in a way that makes sense. “You're nothing like him, obviously, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m starting from square one. It’s not your fault you began our relationship with lies, but it still went down like that. I think I’m still learning to trust you, and myself.”

“I get it.” He squeezes my thigh. “I’ve actually thought about that a lot.”

“Really?” I exhale, relieved.

“Of course, Maeve. This is why they tell you never to get involved with the people you’re investigating. There’s lots of lying. It’s messy.”

“It is messy. But it’s worth trying.”

“I think so, too.” Cruz presses a kiss to my throat that sends shivers through every inch of my body. “I love you, by the way.”

I wake up to a rainstorm,thunder growling softly in the distance. Yawning, I gaze at the weak, morning light coming in through the window. Weather like this has always made me feel cozy, safe, like nothing can get to me.

Cruz sleeps soundly beside me, his chest rising and falling with every breath. Resisting the urge to touch his pretty mouth or his soft, spiky hair, I clasp my hands instead, not wanting to disturb him. We’ve both been through things, and he deserves all the rest in the world. I snuggle down deeper beneath the covers, letting the soft hush of rainfall pull me back under.

When I wake up again, it’s on the tail of a bad dream. I didn’t take my meds last night because I forgot to bring them, not that we got all that much sleep anyway. Now, though, the all-too-familiar stains of dread and fear are creeping in. I force myself to breathe deeply and evenly, not wanting to freak Cruz out if he wakes up. It can be difficult to calm myself after these episodes, but I manage to do it, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth while I concentrate on unclenching my fists.

Slowly, the details of my nightmare dissipate with wakefulness. Instead of dwelling on the details, I slip out of bed and pull my t-shirt on. After using the bathroom, I tiptoe out to the kitchen to search out what I need to make breakfast. Luckily, Cruz has eggs, milk, cheese, bread, and butter, so I set about making omelets. I’m desperate for coffee, but I don’t know how to use the fancy espresso machine, so it’ll have to wait.

Soon I hear the soft, telltale click of the bathroom door. My heart leaps, knowing I’ll be seeing him soon.

“Must be a good morning,” he says, appearing at my side. He leans his hands on the counter, amused. “By the smile on your face, I mean.”

“It is.” Blushing, I fiddle with the omelet, lifting it a tiny bit to see if it’s ready for flipping.

He grins. I grin. It’s sappy and great and I’m happier than I’ve been in forever. “I figured I’d get a head start on breakfast … I remembered you liked my eggs,” I say tentatively, thinking of our little breakfasts back on the hill.

“I did. I do.” He stands behind me now, hands on my hips and then sliding beneath. “Back to dressing inappropriately for the cold …”

“You cannotbe serious,” I say with a snort. It’s probably in the seventies right now, and that’s because it’s raining. “Besides, I didn’t have anything else.”

“I like it.” He presses against me, showing me how much he likes it, and sweeps my hair to the side. My breath stutters, and I try to focus on the omelet, turning it before it overcooks.

He kisses the other side of my neck as he caresses my ass. “It’s nice, waking up to this.”

“To breakfast or my butt?”

He chuckles, and the vibrations give me goosebumps. “Both.”

“It is nice.” Though knowing that this won’t last forever makes my stomach clench. Pushing that thought away, I look over my shoulder and give him a little kiss. “Will you make the coffee? I can’t work that thing.”

“Yet. I’ll teach you.” Giving my ass cheeks one last squeeze, he drops my shirt and moves down the counter to the espresso machine.

“Definitely. I missed your coffee almost as much as I missed you.” I pour the second bowl of beaten eggs into the frying pan. This one will be mine. My mouth is already watering at the thought of how it'll taste, the melted cheese crispy in places.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks.

I nod, not in the mood to get into my nightmare. That was only one tiny part of what was otherwise a good night. “You?”

“Yup.”

“What’re your plans for today?”

“Whatever you want,” he says, making my heart skip a beat. “Unless you have plans?”

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