Page 58 of Knot Like Other Girls

Something shifts inside me, a hairline crack in the walls I've built around what's left of my heart. Walls built from rage, built over years of keeping everyone at arm's length.

The thought is fucking terrifying.

Because if she is different, that means I have something to lose. And I learned the hard way what happens when I try to hold onto beautiful things.

But as I watch Bella pack up the first aid kit, humming softly to herself like she didn't just spend the last ten minutes touching a monster's ruined flesh, I can't help but wonder.

What if, just this once, someone stayed?

"There," she says, closing the kit with a decisive click. "All patched up. Try not to pick any more fights with walls, okay?"

She smiles again.

How?

I find myself nodding, even though we both know it's a promise I probably can't keep. The rage is always there, simmering beneath my skin, waiting for a chance to break free. To remind me what I really am.

But next time I feel it building, I'll do something different.

I'll create something else for her. Something beautiful to balance out all the ugly I've dragged into her world.

The thought sneaks in before I can stop it, and I have to clench my jaw against the wave of hope and terror it brings me. Hope is dangerous. Hope is what got me through thirteen surgeries—most of them useless in the end—only to watch my mate walk away. Hope is what keeps me getting up every morning even though the mirror shows me the same nightmare.

"Thank you," I force out.

Her smile brightens, and for a moment it's like staring into the sun. Too bright, too pure for something like me to look at directly. "You're welcome, Cole."

She says my name so fondly. Like I'm just a man, scarred but still human. Still worth saving.

I want to say something else. Want to explain why I ran today, why I lashed out at Troy, why I can't seem to stop fucking everything up. But the words stick in my throat, tangled up with years of silence and shame.

So I just nod, pushing back from the table. Need to put some distance between us before I do something stupid. Like believe I deserve her kindness. Like think I could ever be anything but a broken soldier.

But as I turn to leave, her voice stops me.

"Cole?"

I freeze, not turning around. Not now, when everything feels too raw, too close to the surface. When I can still feel the ghost of her gentle touch on my ruined skin.

"I meant what I said," she continues softly. "About wanting to see more of your carvings. When you're ready."

When you're ready.

Not if.

Like she actually expects me to show her more. Like she wants to see the things these scarred hands can create instead of destroy.

I manage another jerky nod before escaping, my skin still tingling where she touched me. Her caramel coffee scent follows me down the hallway.

But for the first time since the grenade went off next to me that day, I find myself wanting to try. Wanting to be worthy of those gentle hands and that sweet, soft smile.

Wanting to be more than what I am.

CHAPTER 18

BELLA

Iwatch Cole disappear down the hallway, my hands still tingling from where they touched his scarred skin. My heart feels too big for my chest, like it might burst from the tenderness I feel. The way he let me help him, even though every line of his body screamed at him to run... it means something.

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