Page 64 of Jersey

I freeze when her hand lifts up and presses softly under my eyes, the contact enough to have me swaying on my feet.

"You look tired," she whispers.

"I'm exhausted," I confess. "It's been a long couple of days."

We battled Adair just as the sun was peeking on the horizon, and with all the things that had to be done to wrap up the case, the sun was already setting. Despite it being early evening, the darkness taking over outside is almost enough to convince my brain that it's bedtime.

As if speaking of my own tiredness affects her in some way, she pulls her hand back, using it to cover her own yawn.

"You need some rest."

She dips her head in agreement."I tried to sleep earlier, but I just couldn't."

"Let's get you upstairs," I say, holding out my hand and ignoring the stares and uncomfortable silence from the others.

She doesn't hesitate to take it, and I can't help the thrill that races up my spine with the contact, knowing just how important it is.

As we begin to ascend the stairs, I can't help but wonder if Lark put her in my room. The idea that she's anywhere else but in my space makes my skin crawl, but instead of going toward my space at the top of the stairs, she guides me to a different area of the house.

I have no idea what she told Jericho and Lark or if she even had a conversation with Zara, Cora, or Aspen, but I know better than to think I can just get her into the room she has been provided and ignore the way I acted when I came into the house. Despite not thinking I owe anyone an explanation, I know one is going to be demanded of me, especially from Hemlock. As much as I'm not looking forward to it, I know it's better to get it over with.

This might be a lot easier to deal with if I actually understood it myself.

"I'm glad you're safe," she says, making me wonder if she'd cringe if I pulled off my shirt and let her see the bruises blooming on my skin from where my vest stopped the bullets meant to kill me.

Would she still feel safe around me if she knew just how dangerous our jobs were?

"I'm glad you're here," I whisper when she opens her bedroom door, chuckling a little when Kiva darts between our legs toward the dog bed situated on the far side of the room.

I know better than to think the little dog will actually sleep there. The night I spent in her bed, that damn dog was smack in the middle between us. When the dog shifted its weight, Caitlyn moved to accommodate it, not the other way around.

As much as I want to wrap my arms around her and just sink into the bed, holding her while we sleep, I reach down, giving her hand a little squeeze before taking a step back.

"Get some rest, baby," I whisper before releasing her hand.

She blinks up at me, her tongue skating out to dampen her lips. Although it makes me think that she's picturing kissing me, there's no way I could do that right now.

I still feel so fucking raw from not being there when she needed me the most, and I don't know that I could respect her boundaries if I got my mouth on her right now. The last thing I want is to be one more thing she has to work through in therapy.

"Will you be able to rest soon?" she asks, concern lacing her tone.

"Soon," I promise. "I have to debrief first."

I have to walk away before deciding that it's the best idea ever to follow her into the room she has been provided. It's all I really want to do honestly.

I race down the stairs, thinking that some distance between the two of us will let my head clear a little, but the space offers no relief.

I head into the kitchen, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and take a seat at the breakfast bar, waiting for what I know is about to come.

We won't debrief the Adair situation until the morning, but I know a conversation with Jericho is coming, and I might as well get the shit over with.

As if on cue, the man walks into the kitchen, his eyes on mine as if he's trying to read my mind.

"Listen," I begin, grinding my teeth when he holds his hand up to silence me.

Hisinability to even let me speak my piece feels disrespectful even though I don't know what I was planning on saying in the first place.

"Aspen told me weeks ago that I was wrong for putting restrictions on whatever it was that was going on between you and Dr. Rudd," he says before pulling in a long breath. "I think maybe she was right."

---