Page 57 of Stranded

I try to look over my shoulder and when I can’t turn anymore, Weston lifts his head, his eyes scanning my face, concern written all over his.

He slowly leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my cheek, making my breath hitch in surprise. My cheeks heat and my reaction makes his lips twitch in response.

I turn my head back to Kingsley and let it drop back down to his arm I’ve apparently been using as a pillow.

I blow out a breath as I try to remember what happened today. We were eating breakfast, then…Then what?I remember wanting to get away from them because I felt a panic attack coming on.

They asked me about my clothes.

Crap shells.That question had single-handedly unraveled me. I had run straight back to my hammock as I tried to stop myself from panicking. It took me a while, but I finally started to calm down, and that’s when the rain started. And not just rain, but thunder and lightning, and that brought back a different memory, one I’d sooner die than have to relive.

I wanted to get out of the rain and remembered thinking this was where I needed to go. But being inside here made the rain echo even louder. And although I was dry, the sounds drove me into a panic attack.

“Zee?” My eyes meet Kingsley’s again as he frowns down at me. “I know you don’t want to talk about anything, but you can, okay? We won’t judge you, I hope you know that? No matter what it is, we’ll be here for you.”

I shake my head, trying to stop the tears that want to shed from his sweet words. “It’s not that. It’s just that I don’twantto remember,” I say with a sniffle.

“Baby,” Weston says against my ear from behind me, his hand pressing into my stomach to hold me closer. “Holding it in isn’t doing you any good. You need to let it out so you can deal with it.”

“I can’t,” I sniffle, shaking my head. “Not now.”

“How about later, after the storm is gone and you’re feeling better?” he bargains. Part of me wants to argue, to tell him I never want to share my stories. But a bigger part of me knows he’s right. It’s been well over a decade and I still have nightmares, there’s no way that's healthy ornormal. I assumed I would have to live with nightmares for the rest of my life, but maybe there’s a better option.

“Okay,” I whisper, turning my head so my eyes meet his. “Later.”

He gives me a soft smile and kisses the edge of my forehead. “There’s my girl. So brave.”

I huff, turning back to Kingsley. “Yeah, right.”

“He’s right, you know?” Kingsley says, using his thumb to tilt my chin up so he can look me in the eyes.

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“Hardly,” I say, trying to turn away from his intense gaze.

“Sweetheart, you jumped on the back of a two hundred pound wild boar and killed it with one strike.”

“You swing from vines and climb trees without fear of falling,” Bower adds.

“And you’ve been surviving here for who knows how long all by yourself. You’re not just brave,” Weston says, his lips brushing the back of my neck as he speaks, “you’re fucking amazing. I’m in constant awe of you.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding at their words. “Even when I’m in here crying like an idiot?”

“Just because you get scared or upset doesn’t make you any less amazing,” Kingsley insists, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw.

My breath hitches at the intensity in his eyes. Is that really the way they see me?

A crash of thunder makes me jump, but Weston and Kingsley just hold me tighter.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you,” Kingsley murmurs, tucking my head beneath his chin. “You’re safe with us.”

His words wrap around me like a warm embrace, sinking deep into my bones, easing the tremble in my limbs. A shiver runs through me, not from fear, but from the way his voice coats every raw, aching part of me. Because, with them, I’ve finally found a place I feel safe, and I never want to let that go.

We lay there for hours while the storm rages outside. All three of them offering me words of reassurance that I’m safe, while taking turns holding me.Hugging me? Cuddling me?I’m not sure what this is called, but whatever it is, I love it. The longer they hold me, the more my body seems to relax. The surprising and confusing part is that none of them feel better than the others. My body seemed to respond to each of them equally, which is confusing and a little worrisome.

Am I only responding this way because I’m so starved of attention? Would I be this grateful with any random three men who could have washed up on my shore? The truth was that I didn’t think so. There is something so unique and special about all three of them that draws me in, wanting to know more.

Weston’s fingers gently massage the back of my head, pulling me out of my thoughts and into the present, and I snuggle further into his chest as the rain pelts down on the raft above us.

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