Since I’ve been stuck on the ugly side of life for way too long now, I’m ready for the beautiful side.
I reluctantly release his arm, listening to his muffled footsteps as he crosses the carpeted room. My eyes close of their own accord, my body and mind dead tired. I try to listen to Phoenix and Holden, until I can’t hear them anymore.
When I wake up,it’s still dark outside, and Phoenix is right in front of me. He must have left a light on somewhere because the room is softly illuminated, allowing me to see him. His closed eyes, his steadily moving rib cage. I gaze over our bodies, with me under the blanket and him on top of it, close enough to touch, yet so far away. Except for one part. Phoenix’s hand is resting on my hip as if he hoped his touch would keep my nightmares from returning.
Using this unexpected opportunity, I scan over his peaceful form, starting at the stubble on his chin. My hand aches to reach out and touch it, to find out if it’s still prickly, or if it has reached that level of softness yet. I want to brush my finger down his straight nose until I reach his full lips. They’re slightly parted, and I yearn to run my fingertips over them. Even more so, I want to kiss them. I want to kisshim.
My body hums at the memory of the two kisses we’ve shared. One passionate hate-kiss and a gentle we-just-escaped-death one. Both very different, both leading straight to this moment and the realization I’m attached to this man in ways that can never be undone.
There’s still so much unsaid between us, so much pain and loss we can only hope to overcome one day, but rightnow, one thing is undeniable: I can breathe easier when he’s nearby.
I also want to be stronger for him because he deserves it. He’s already lost so much, and it’s not his fault some psychopath decided to make me a target, inevitably dragging him down with me.
My eyes fixate on the bandage on Phoenix’s forehead.
Will this ever end? How many more people will die or get injured?
In a twisted way, the explosion made me realize something crucial: people get hurt no matter what. Either Freddy has escalated for some reason and doesn’t care anymore if anyone dies in his sick game, or this was his plan all along, and I was just stupid enough to believe he wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again if I did what he asked me to do.
I stare at Phoenix for a while longer, calmed enough by his close proximity to fall back asleep.
When I wakeup the next time, I’m alone in bed. Reaching out, I feel the warm sheets beside me. I blink, trying to adjust to the daylight streaming in through the windows. My gaze roams around the room until it settles on the bathroom door that’s slightly ajar.
As if I’d willed it, the door moves and Phoenix steps out with only a towel wrapped around his narrow hips.
Heat grows in my chest and works its way toward my neck and face.
His surprised gaze meets mine. “You’re awake.”
I swallow and watch him walk toward me. “Just woke up.”
He brushes a hand through his wet hair. “Sorry, I was hoping you wouldn’t wake up while I was in the shower.”
“It’s okay.” My voice is barely a whisper. I try to smile at him, but it feels more like a grimace, so I avert my gaze somewhere past him. Somewhere that isn’t his beautiful face, or his toned chest, or his nipple piercing that glints in the light, or his intriguing tattoos, or the ‘V’ shape of his hips. Anywhere but there.
“Are you hungry?”
I tune in to my body and nod. “Maybe a little?”
“Did you eat your dinner last night?”
I lose my focus and look back up at him. “My dinner?”
“Yeah, after we returned from the hospital, Huxley brought you something, right?”
My brain isn’t as fuzzy as before, but it still takes me a moment to remember what I did last night. “He did. I ate then texted Ruby, Mason, and Tyler, as well as my mom because surprise, she actually messaged to see if I was alive. I was planning on taking a bath, but I passed out before I could.”
I peek down at my clothes. That would explain the oversized shirt and loose sweatpants I was still wearing, the same ones Holden dropped off for me at the hospital.
Phoenix ignores my snide remarks and asks, “Do you want to take a bath right now?”
“A bath?” More heat creeps up my neck at his question, and I want to hide under the blanket.
He nods. “You said you wanted to take one last night but fell asleep.”
Stop being so weird. He didn’t ask if you wanted to take a bath with him. He probably just wants to be nice because you saved his life.
Wait. Never mind, you put him in prison, so does that make you even?