Page 36 of Covert
"You mean something to me," he says, his voice tense and constrained. Before I can ask what he means about that, he spins on his heel and stomps away.
I spend the next few hours tossing and turning. I have stories I play through my mind to distract me from things and hopefully help me sleep, but they keep being interrupted by moments with the boys today. Sexy moments. Tender moments.
And I have no idea what to do about any of them.
Chapter seventeen
Beckett
There's a light tap on my door.
I check my phone. It's three AM. Axel never sleeps, but he also never leaves his room. I'm sure Maddox is out cold, so there's a 50/50 chance it’s the woman of the household.
It's her second night here, and if I had to guess by the sounds I heard last night, she's in a relationship with Axel and Maddox in some form. So, I'm wondering why she's here, knocking on my door, instead of relaxing with them.
The watercolor of emotions I had at hearing her faint moans and mewls, and masculine grunts and whispered conversation was one I didn't expect.
Jealousy, want, longing, rage, hurt, lust, love.
Instead of inviting her in, I open the door and block the entrance with my body.
It's Nikki.
God, she's beautiful.
She's in her dress from earlier, but fuzzy socks and no shoes. I wish this were us on a daily basis. I wish I could wake up next to her and those fuzzy socks. I wish we could have just a normal relationship, where I could touch her and be touched by her. My bones practically ache with longing for a future I know we can't have. One that I don't deserve. One where all the broken parts of me are healed and I can be a normal fucking man for once.
She's looking surprisingly sheepish. There's a faint blush across her cheeks and nose, and her hands are behind her back.
"What's up?"
Our conversation two months ago still plays on a loop in my mind. She wasn't afraid of me. She didn't see me as the monster so many others had. She'd seen the man standing in front of her and wanted to help him. The man silently drowning. The man whose life had been reduced to controlled outings and avoiding women.
But she wouldn't let me avoid her. And she didn't judge me for my broken parts.
And then she stared me down and literally put her life in my hands. I'm not dumb. I know what can happen to girls when they're drunk and vulnerable. Shit, I know what can happen to girls when they're sober and alert. I am so physically bigger and stronger than her, I could hurt her, touch her, rape her, kill her, and she and I both know there would be nothing she could do about it.
And she trusted me anyway.
It moved me in a way I never expected. And that made a stupid, traitorous hope bloom in my belly. Like, maybe I could try with her. For her.
"So... I was thinking... and maybe this is stupid, and you tell me to fuck off..." She's staring at her feet, her toes scrunching and flexing in her socks. Finally, she looks up at me. "I was thinking maybe we could try to touch, in like small amounts? I'm not a threat to you, and we could take it at your pace. Just, like, little touches here and there? Until you feel more comfortable?"
I lean against the doorjamb. God, if it were only that simple. And then, I realize, maybe it is. She's standing in front of me now, with nowitnesses. I have no way to escape if she wants to push me back into my room and claim whatever she wanted to.
I ponder it for a bit before she hands me her worn composition notebook. "I... I don't want you to read this. But I want you to keep it as collateral. I have everything in here that would put me away for two lifetimes."
I stare down at the notebook, wondering what the hell this woman could have done to earn life sentences. What did she do? Not returning a library book? Lie on her taxes? I'm not sure whether I believed her or not.
But I really, really want to. If I knew I had some sort of back-up, some sort of reassurance, hard proof that she wouldn't hurt me, could I touch her? Could I let her touch me? I imagine running my hands over her body. She'd feel tiny in my hands. She'd feel soft in my hands.
I have to take the risk. If I were ever going to spend every waking minute of my life unafraid, I had to try.
I take a step back and wave her into my bedroom. Into the lion's den. I'm acutely aware of how vulnerable she is right now. She said she could kick my ass, but I overpower her by weight alone. There's only so much momentum flipping she could do against a guy like me.
But she passes me as she enters my room and curls up at the base of my bed with her legs folded.
With a more quizzical look, I place the notebook on my dresser.
