Page 78 of Slash & Burn

Jill had mentioned something called an anxiety hangover once. I wasn’t sure what she meant, and maybe it wasn’t the same as the headache and nausea I felt when I woke up the next morning, but I imagined it was pretty close. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, but all the scars were on the inside.

When I’d woken up before her, I’d laid motionless. She was still draped over me, her soft breath against the back of my neck. Holding me as close as she could, unwilling to let me stay alone in the dark place I’d gotten used to.

I’d assumed I was going to my grave with that story, the shame and guilt I felt serving as a deserved penance for what I’d done out in that water. But the way Jill had looked at me, the way she’d refused to believe I was a monster . . . I’d borrow her conviction until I had some of my own, but it felt a little like being set free. And as much as I might still doubt I deserved that freedom, I wanted it.

I wanted it as much as I wanted her.

If I wasn’t going to my grave with that horrible truth in my head anymore, I sure as shit was going to it with the image of Jill riding my cock. Her sitting in my lap and grinding her pussy into me as she moaned my name. Yep, that was a permanent fixture in my memory bank from now on.

“Please tell me I didn’t talk in my sleep,” Jill’s soft, scratchy voice came over my shoulder, shoving my reverie aside.

I laughed. “Not that I heard.”

“Good. ‘Cause you do.”

I turned over, climbing on top of Jill before she could squirm away, a giggle rising out of her as I pinned her beneath me. “Oh yeah? What’d I say?” Given the disclosure she’d already heard after my nightmare, I didn’t think anything worse could have come out of my mouth.

“Well, you have very questionable taste in pizza toppings,” she said, biting her lip as she spun her lies. “Something about sardines.Ew.”

The light coming from the window danced in her eyes as much as her humor and I bent to nip at her ear. “You’re full of shit, gorgeous. I don’t even eat sardines.”

“Are you sure? Cause you really wanteda lotof them on your pizza last night.”

She saw me coming as I went to tickle her, pitching up and rolling out of my hold. I imagined having two older brothers probably helped her hone her evasion skills, but I marveled at her anyway when she bounced up off the bed and threw her hands up in triumph. She was still wearing my shirt and the sight of her in it did things to me. Things I’d never felt before, along with things we didn’t have time for.

Checking my phone, I sighed. “If we’re going to make it back in time, we better get going.”

She eyed me for a second, trying to read me. “We can do brunch with Joey and LeAnn another time. If you don’t feel like it?—”

Popping off the bed, I stalked toward her. “I’m fine.” I twisted a strand of her hair around my finger, my eyes on it instead of meeting her questioning gaze. “I’m not sure what to think about last night—the nightmare and everything, I mean,” I clarified quickly, catching her nod with understanding that I wasn’t conflicted aboutusat all.

“But I feel . . . better?” I looked at the ceiling trying to find the right words. “I mean, I think I can get past it. With time.”

Jill’s fingers traveled up my chest, her palm resting on my heart, drawing my eyes back down to her. “You will. You just have to let it happen.”

“I’ll try,” I told her, pressing her hand harder into me, as if I could take her warmth and sweetness and keep it there for when I needed it.

While I was checking us out, Jill went to drop her stuff in her car, but she wasn’t there when I went to find her. Looking around the motel, puddles dotting the parking lot and the gutters still dripping, I found her over by the garden that lined the path to the pool.

“Thinking about taking a dip?” I asked, startling her when I came up from behind.

“No, just admiring the flowers. They’ve got so many different kinds.”

I stood behind her, my arms circling her waist as I rested my chin on her shoulder. “Which is your favorite?”

She canted her head to the side, looking among the thick hedge of blooms. But then she shook her head. “I don’t know that I have one.”

Jill had a vegetable garden at her cottage with a few marigolds around, but it was nothing like this. Yet somehow looking at the overflowing color, the tall stalks rising up toward the sun like they were stretching for the light, it reminded me of her. Bright and strong, rooted and growing, all at once.

“You should pick a favorite,” I said, taking her hand when she turned back to the parking lot.

She chuckled, tilting her smiling face up to me. “Why?”

“‘Cause then I’ll know which ones to get you.”

I wasn’t kidding, but she erupted with laughter anyway. I doubted Asshole had ever gotten her flowers, and maybe no man ever had. But if there was ever a woman who deserved pretty, vibrant things around her, it was Jill.

I followed her back to Holden Cove and we were walking toward the diner when I got a text from Joey. I stopped short to read it.

---