Page 113 of Tamed By You

The rain hammers against the window, New York dark and gray, miserable, much like my mood. A bolt of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder, startles me. I sit in silence, only listening to the sounds of the storm in the dark, the city lights keeping my apartment a glow.

A faint knock echoes from my front door, and I jump up, knowing it’ll be Jack checking in on me again since he only lives on the floor below.

Opening the door, I go to speak and stop, shocked to see the person staring back at me, soaked to the bone, rain droplets trickling down her pale cheeks. She folds her arms around her, her body visibly shivering.

“Ali, what are you—”

“I, erm, went on a walk. I didn’t want to be alone, and I ended up here…” Her teeth chatter on the last word.

“Come here.” I take her hand, pulling her in, not caring that she’s soaking wet, not caring that I’m meant to be keeping my distance. My instincts kicking in, wanting to protect her, keep her warm.

“Baby, you’re freezing,” I whisper, holding her tightly to my body, my own clothes absorbing the rainwater from hers.

“Can I stay, just for a little bit?” she mumbles into my chest.

I pull back, lifting her face to mine. “Ali, you don’t have to ask. You can stay as long as you want.”

Stay with me forever.

She gives me a thankful smile and I take her hands. “Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”

I take her down the hall to my bedroom. Flicking on the bedside lamp, I point to the bathroom.

“Go take a shower, I’ll, umm, wait here and find you some clothes. Throw yours out here and I’ll dry them for you.” She nods and goes into my bathroom. I grab a sweater and the smallest pair of sweatpants I can find. I know they won’t fit her, but we’ll make it work till hers dry. I lay them out on the bed and head to my laundry room to throw her clothes in the dryer. I lean against the machine, giving myself a minute.

She came to me. She wants to be here.

It’s a small step, but a good one.

I head back to my bedroom, knocking on the door, still wanting to be respectful and give her space.

“Come in,” she calls. She’s dressed, my clothes drowning her small frame as she towel dries her hair.

“Sorry, they were the smallest clothes I could find.”

“It’s fine, thank you. Do you have a brush I could use?”

“Yeah, sure, come here,” I say, gesturing for her to follow me into the bathroom. The room is filled with steam. It’s warm, the scent of my body wash filling the air and a little part loves that she now smells of me.

I open the drawer, pulling out a brush. She reaches for it, and I gesture for her to stand in front of me.

“Let me,” I say softly. Her eyes meet mine and something unreadable flashes across them. “Let me take care of you, Ali Cat.”

She steps in front of me, and I begin to brush her long, blonde hair. Taking my time, careful not to tug too hard, working my way slowly through every strand. I look in the reflection of the large circular mirror that hangs above the basins. Her eyes are closed, her shoulders dropping a little with every stroke, she looks relaxed, and my stomach does a strange little flip knowing I’m making her feel this way.

“We should dry it. You don’t want to get cold,” I say opening the drawer and plugging in the hair dryer.

“You have a dryer?” she asks, a playfulness in her tone.

“Sure do. You don’t look like me without some good products and a hair tool.”

She laughs' light and airy, just like she used to, and it makes my heart do a little flutter.

“I was going to say, that body wash had a high-class smell, very fancy.”

“Only the best for us, Ali Cat.”

Us.

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