Page 26 of Shattered Hearts

“No, thank you. You can go. I’ll ask Gage to drive me home later. He won’t mind.”

“Very well. Happy New Year, Zarah.” Douglas lets warmth creep into his eyes, and he turns into my father figure rather than my driver.

I give him a tight hug. “Thanks, Douglas. You, too. You should celebrate the holiday.”

“I’ll ask if Mr. Maddox needs me, and if not, I think I will. Be safe.”

He sits behind the wheel, but he won’t leave until he knows I’m inside and Gage has me in his possession. I try to brush away the idea I’m like a baton in a relay race. Always being handed off to the next person because I can’t be trusted to take care of myself.

I should be grateful there are people in my life, so many people, who want to keep me safe. I don’t think I’d be alive right now, standing in Gage’s dark and freezing stairwell, if those people didn’t love me.

Ash would have had his way a long time ago.

I knock, and I hear Baby’s nails scratching against the floor as she trots across Gage’s kitchen. He answers the door, and God, he looks good. Jeans and a black sweater, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing his ink. His black hair gleams, still a bit damp from a recent shower, and he hasn’t shaved, his scruff growing out into a short beard.

He’s delicious, and he’s mine.

“Hi.”

“Hey yourself,” he says, standing aside and letting me in. His apartment smells like coffee.

I kick the snow off my boots and step inside. “Happy New Year.”

He hauls me into his arms and presses his lips to mine, not giving me a second to take my jacket off. “Happy New Year, Zarah.”

Heat gathers in my belly, tight and blazing hot, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

It’s embarrassing how much I need this man.

Gage doesn’t let me go, and we stand this way, not speaking. Well, he’s standing there. My feet are dangling a foot above the floor and I’m hanging on for dear life. This is my sanity, right here in this room, this is my safety, in his arms.

That thought clogs my throat with tears, and I sniffle into his sweater. I’m so dumb.

“Ah,” he says, nuzzling his nose against my cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

I’d like to believe him, but I can’t. How can I when I don’t know what my brain will be like day to day, hour to hour.

“I hope so.”

He sets me onto the floor, and I wiggle out of my jacket and unzip my boots.

“I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. Text Douglas and tell him you’re inside and okay.”

Happy to see Gage, I forgot about Douglas, and I grab my phone out of my purse. I shoot off a quick text that Gage is here and I’m fine. He sends me a thumbs up, and I tuck my phone away and shuffle into the kitchen, Baby sniffing at my jeans.

Gage hands me a mug fixed how I like it, and I sit at his table. The day stretches ahead of us. We planned on lunch. We could go shopping. I could show him the penthouse, though that probably wouldn’t interest him and it would feel like I’m bragging. Is it wrong to admit I want to stay here, in his apartment, and do nothing all day but be with him?

He catches on to my mood, and he sets his mug down and holds out his hand. “Come here.” He leads me to the bedroom. The bed’s made, and we lie on his comforter, him on his side, looking into my face. “What’s wrong?”

Tears run down my temples. “I’m so messed up. Gage, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Blowing out a breath, he wipes the tears off my face. “I know, baby.”

“I’m so scared.” I burrow into his chest, and he cuddles me to him, kissing my cheek. I press his hand to my side under my sweater. I need the skin-to-skin contact. I need his warmth.

Turning my head, I press my lips to his, snuggling against his body, trying to get as close as I can. I think of Zane and Stella, able to enjoy a simple act of intimacy, and I want that too. I’m ready for that. Gage has never given me any reason not to trust him. He’s never pushed my boundaries, never taken more than I could give. In fact, it’s always been the other way around. I would have given more, given him all that I could, but he never took it, knowing I wasn’t ready.

His hand runs up my ribs and covers my breast, and I resist letting out a sigh of relief. He’s not going to push me away. He’s not going to tell me to slow down.

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