Page 122 of The Faking Game

She nods, her hand still in mine. “I’ve never slept in the same bed as a guy before.”

Shit. Of course she hasn’t. “Consider it a lesson.”

“A lesson,” she says, and maybe it was the wrong thing to say, the wrong thing to offer, but then her smile widens. “Okay, that’s good. Distract me.”

“I can do that.” I brush her hair back. “Go get ready for bed. I won’t go anywhere.”

She narrows her eyes at me, and there’s a hint of playfulness there, beneath the emotions of the evening. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She disappears into her bathroom, throwing me one last look, like she needs to reassure herself that I really am staying.

I’m left standing in the room that’s been hers since she moved in. There’s a stack of books on the dresser and a set of clothes thrown over the back of an armchair. On the ground beneath the window, I catch two silver bowls. One with water and one with what looks like cat food.

The rage that works its way through me steals my breath.

That someone so good, andkind, who works so damn hard at pleasing everyone all the time, should be made to feel like this.

I hadn’t realized the stalker scared her this much. She kept it all bottled up, and she did such a beautiful job of hiding it that even I hadn’t seen the full extent of it until now.

Whoever it is, I’m going to make them pay. I’m going to spend nights,days, dreaming of how they’ll suffer for making a night she was excited about turn ugly. For every single one of her tears.

Water runs in the bathroom, and I force my breathing to calm. To lock the anger down. She needs a protector tonight, not yet another person to comfort.

Her bathroom door opens. “Oh. You really did stay in the exact same spot.”

“Promised you I would.”

She smiles a little, shy and tentative, and pads across the space barefoot. She’s in a camisole and a pair of shorts, and the makeup from the photoshoot is all washed away. It’s freckles and big green eyes and a mouth I love kissing.

“Do you need anything from your rooms?”

“Yeah. But I don’t want to leave you.” I hold out my hand. “Come with me?”

She digs her teeth into her lower lip. “Yes. Is that okay? I know I’m safe here, but still… tonight has…”

I tug on her hand, and she laughs a little. “Okay, so it’s fine.”

“Of course it’s fine.”

She examines my room while I brush my teeth and change out of my suit. The door to my closet is open, but she keeps her back turned the whole time. I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt and watch her look around.

She looks good in my bedroom. The words are on the tip of my tongue. To praise her for standing right there, waiting for me like I asked her to.

I take her hand instead. “Looked your fill?”

“Mhm. Your room is a mirror of mine.”

“It is. Let’s get you to bed, sweet girl.” The endearment slips out anyway, and her fingers flex around mine.

“Say that again,” she whispers.

I tug her close as we walk to her room. “Sweet girl? You did so well tonight. Getting angry. Crying. Showing me how you really feel.”

She draws a shaky breath. “You really don’t think less of me.”

“Of course I don’t. You’re brave.” I open the door to her room, and she walks in front of me to her bed.And you take care of everyone else all the time.

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