Page 33 of Lily

She shook her head.

“You’re crying.” He eased her pants back up and turned her around.

She pursed her lips, unable to express her feelings.

“Am I embarrassing you? I don’t want to make you feel like you don’t have choices.”

She shook her head. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He wiped her tears. He looked sick.

She needed to explain. “You’re so kind.”

He swallowed. “I’m just human. You’re used to monsters.”

“There are a lot of monsters in the world.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately. But I’m not one of them. I will never intentionally hurt you, sweetheart.” He held up the ointment. “Do you want to do the front? I’ll look away.”

She shook her head again. “You do it.” Her arms were shaking, but she lifted the sweatshirt and the T-shirt up to her neck, holding it out of the way.

Stefano set his forehead against hers before kissing the same spot. “You’re so brave.”

“I’m not. I was close to diving out the third-story window. I probably would have a dozen times by now if it hadn’t been too high for me to reach.”

He nodded as if he understood and wouldn’t judge her for her thoughts. “I’m glad that man lost his phone in the couch then. The world would be a horrible place without you in it.” He squatted in front of her and gently rubbed the ointment into the lines across her breasts before taking the shirt from her grip and lowering it.

“Thank you. That does feel better.”

“Anytime.” He handed her the coffee. “Drink this, and then you should nap while we wait for the groceries.”

They returned to the couch, where she sipped the coffee until it was almost gone. After he took the mug from her and set it on the coffee table, he patted his lap. “Lie down and put your head on my thighs.”

She curled up on her side next to him, relaxed her cheek against his lap, and released a long breath.

He pulled a quilt from the back of the couch and draped it over her. “Rest, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

She was so warm and comfortable that she easily fell asleep.

Chapter Twelve

“It feels weird watching you cook,” Roselia said that evening as she sat on the counter once again, watching Stefano expertly move around the kitchen. He was making chicken parmesan, and the scent of the sauce was making her mouth water.

He’d fed her more today than she’d eaten in a week. A huge breakfast, a monstrous sandwich for lunch, and now the aroma of Italian was making her stomach growl as if she’d skipped both previous meals.

Between those two meals, she’d slept most of the day curled up on the couch with her head on his lap. She didn’t think he’d slept at all and knew he hadn’t slept last night. He was bionic, apparently.

Every time she’d roused, she’d found him staring at her, stroking her hair. She could get used to this. How long could they hide here? She didn’t want to know the answer, so she didn’t ask. How much cash did he have? He didn’t seem stressed by this arrangement at all, as if they had all the time in the world to hide from that same world.

“Am I doing it right?” he teased as he added a bit more Caesar dressing to the salad and tossed it again.

She giggled and covered her mouth. The sound startled her.

He smiled at her. “I love that sound. I want to make you do it as often as possible.”

“I’m not sure how I’m even able to smile. If you’d asked me yesterday, I would’ve told you the world was doomed, and there was no hope for humanity, and I would never experience joy again.”

Stefano set the salad tongs down and stalked toward her. He always made her heart race when he did this. And he did it often as though he could only tolerate a few minutes at a time without touching her. She was good with that.

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